Divorced for Show, Bet for Love / Chapter 3: Registry and Block Button
Divorced for Show, Bet for Love

Divorced for Show, Bet for Love

Author: Nancy Stevenson


Chapter 3: Registry and Block Button

That afternoon, Olawale really carry me go Marriage Registry.

I dress simple. No make-up, no earring. Na just me and my shadow. The Registry crowd dey restless, as if everybody dey run from something.

All the way, him mood dey sweet.

He dey whistle one useless tune. I dey beside am, quiet. He dey do like say e dey go buy suya for junction, not end marriage.

Dey ask me where I wan go for our three years anniversary.

I surprise. My mind dey wonder if na joke or if I don miss something. But I just look window, dey count pedestrian wey dey dodge okada.

Me and Olawale grow up together; this na our third year as husband and wife.

Our story long. People for church dey always talk say we be example. E pain me say na like this e go end.

“How about Paris?”

As if say money no be problem. Him voice sweet, but e dey float for air. I no fit answer. I just dey hold my purse.

“You don dey talk say you wan go Paris feed pigeon since you be small pikin.”

Na true. That time, I dey dream of Eiffel Tower, of things wey books dey show. Na Olawale first promise me that dream. I dey look the road, dey remember the small girl wey believe for fairy tales.

He come down, open car door, help me unbuckle seatbelt.

Na the kind gesture wey used to sweet me before. Now, e just dey mechanical, like say na script him dey read.

“Tsk, why you dey cry?”

E shock me. I no know say tears dey fall.

He frown, use him finger clean my eye.

For that one second, na old Olawale show. Him finger soft. E dey rub my cheek small, but before I fit hold the moment, e vanish.

“I tell you say na just acting. Na small bird she be. I just dey wait to see when she go finally humble.”

Him voice dey full of pride. E be like person wey dey bet for horse race. I just nod. For my heart, na silence dey answer am.

As he dey talk, something fall from him pocket.

I hear am drop, my mind sharp. Na those small details dey show person true color.

Pack of condom.

The packet bright, e fall for chair. E be like say e dey mock me. I look away.

Olawale cough small, touch him nose.

E dey hide shame, but I see am. For Yoruba man to cough like that, e mean say e no expect wahala.

No talk anything.

Na the first time I see Olawale tongue-tied. Normally, him go form joke, but this time, he just swallow.

Carry me enter Marriage Registry.

I follow quietly. Registry cold, with AC wey dey blow pass sense. E get that smell of paper and people's nervous sweat.

Everything go well.

Registry clerk na one aunty with big glasses. She tie Ankara tight, face squeeze like person wey dem cheat for market. She just dey look us with that eye of "wetin bring una two here today?"

I get wahala to talk (aphasia).

I dey try manage myself. My chest dey squeeze, but I dey hope say voice go come when I need am.

Many times, I no fit talk when I see stranger.

My tongue dey fail me. Sometimes, I dey wonder if I be spirit for human body.

But I fit nod or shake head.

Thank God for body language. I dey thank my mama for teach me eye signal.

“Na voluntary divorce be this?”

The registry aunty voice sharp, like person wey dey hurry go market.

“Yes.”

Olawale quick answer, but I just nod. My head dey bow. I dey count the number of tiles for ground.

I nod.

“Una relationship don spoil?”

The aunty press. She wan sure say na wetin we really want.

“Yes.”

Olawale still dey answer. I just dey nod like agama lizard. My mind dey run. I dey beg my leg make e no shake.

I nod.

“One month cooling period. Come back after one month.”

E mean say, for Naija, even divorce get waiting list. I dey count days inside my mind. One month, ehn.

Olawale collect receipt.

He dey smile like say na bet he win. E pain me.

Before we waka go, he snap picture, bend head, send message.

I see am for corner of eye. Him dey quick with phone. E no even look me face. My heart dey bite me small small.

My own message come too.

My phone vibrate. I check, na same wahala.

As always, from Amaka.

I roll my eye. This girl get time. She no dey tire?

Olawale send her the picture of the receipt, add:

[Satisfied? Go baff, wait for me tonight.]

Him tone dey show say na game. I no even know whether to vex or laugh.

I tap her profile picture, block her.

Sharp sharp, block button sweet me pass cold Fanta for hot afternoon. My mind just free. If to say I dey drink garri, na now the sugar go dissolve.

As I finish, ticket confirmation text enter.

I almost drop phone. The timing sweet like film trick. Na new chapter be this.

Same time, WhatsApp message:

[Ticket don buy. One month from now.]

The world dey move, even if my own dey scatter. I just dey thank God say I fit move too.

[See you for Paris.]

For small moment, my mind fly. I imagine myself for another place, another life. Even if na just one breath.

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