Chapter 1: The Divorce Paper

Olawale’s canary dey vex again.

Even as my mind dey scatter, I still hear the fowl for back compound dey shout like say e vex for the whole world. Na so wahala dey start sometimes, just with small palava. The air for parlour still dey hot—like quarrel just waka pass. The smell of fried fish from neighbor compound still dey hang for air, but for my chest, na only cold dey.

He just waka come give me the divorce paper. “Sign am. Na just for show, to calm that small girl.”

The paper cold for my hand, e heavy like stone. I no even fit look the signature line well, my chest dey tight like say something hold am. But for Olawale face, na nothing. Him voice dey flat, like person wey dey order garri for bukka.

I look the paper, then look Olawale face. My hand dey shake small. I remember how my mama go say, "Think am well, Ozioma. Marriage no be beans." But my mind blank. I hold my wrapper tight, nod my head.

The wrapper na my last armor. I grip am sotey my knuckles white like fresh coconut meat, long sotey if breeze blow, e fit scratch person. E get as my back sweat, but I still dey form strong. For our culture, woman suppose dey gentle—no be fight everywhere. I remember wetin my mama talk: "No go disgrace yourself for outside, no matter wetin."

No talk, I just sign my name.

My biro shake small, but my hand steady reach. E pain me say, as I dey sign, na my own handwriting dey tell story wey my mouth no fit talk. The paper no even tremble, I just dey try swallow the lump for my throat.

As I dey go, I hear him friends dey gist, dey laugh, “Aunty too dey gentle, abi? If you tell am make she go collect certificate, she no go even talk one word, abi?”

One of them, that Chuks wey sabi yabb people, add: "Na the kind wife wey mama go dey pray for. She go just dey, no wahala, no noise. Omo, this kain peace sef fit tire person."

Just then, I hear neighbor radio dey play Fuji song, the beat dey enter my bone, cut the mockery small, but e no stop the pain.

Olawale light cigarette, smile. “You wan bet?”

He puff smoke, mouth bend like person wey dey calculate how to win awoof. The way e shake lighter for hand, e be like say e dey decide who go chop slap next.

Dem bet say one month later, for Marriage Registry, I go cry like pikin, but still do wetin dem tell me.

Dem dey hail am, one dey slap his leg: "Abeg, make I put 2k on top. If aunty change mouth, na me go wash your car for one week."

Change marriage certificate to divorce certificate.

Omo, how life fit just waka from white rice to burnt jollof in one day. I dey look the certificate, e heavy for my mind like na title deed for family land.

I hold my phone, quiet.

I still dey hold am for pocket, dey press am small small, like say if I squeeze am enough, answers go fall out. My thumb dey shake, but I no let anybody see.

Just reply the message wey land just now:

[Why you no just marry me, e no go better?]

For this Lagos wey everywhere dey rush, people go just dey throw suggestion like gala for traffic. But this one sting me. I no even know how to process am.

“Okay.”

I no fit add emoji, I no fit talk joke. My chest just dey heavy. Na only that word I fit manage. E be like say something dey draw the reply from my soul.

1.

[?]

As if the person dey sidon ontop my shoulder, message bounce back immediately. I no even fit look am well. E shock me.

Reply land sharp sharp.

My hand dey cold. E be like say I dey outside myself, dey look as my life dey waka its own journey. I no too sabi how to respond.

I off my phone.

For Naija, sometimes, silence na your only answer. I let the phone die. My spirit just want peace for one corner.

Inside, laughter and noise still dey.

Even though I close door, the sound still enter my ear. One person dey play small portable speaker, dem dey gist dey yabb. E be like say na party and I be the only guest wey dem forget to serve rice.

“Ehen, if aunty really dey obey like this, na me go buy drink next month.”

Another one shout: "Na Star I go buy, abeg. No give me that one wey dey make person shit like firewood."

“Three months,” Olawale talk.

He rub chin like chief, dey set new rules for bet as if na him dey control time. Everybody hail am. I hear glass knock table.

“Na deal, na deal.”

Wetin person no go hear for Lagos? Deals everywhere, as if na only money matter. Sometimes, I wonder if na my own happiness dem dey bet.

Laughter full everywhere.

Dem dey roll for chair, dey slap table. Nobody dey pity me. Nobody even look my face. Na so e dey be when you be background character for your own life.

I rush comot.

I no even fit breathe. The corridor choke, everywhere dey squeeze me. I fit hear my own heart dey knock like generator for fasting.

Na when I waka leave office, sun just blind my eye,

the tears start to drop.

For this Naija sun, tears dey dry quick, but e still burn well well. People dey waka pass, some dey look me, but nobody stop. Woman cry for Lagos? E no be news. The world just dey move.

Sun dey burn my back, but inside, cold still dey.