Chapter 5: Gifts and Guilt

After that day, something just break between me and Kunle. I dey try talk to myself, but na lie. We no mention Sade again, na silence dey between us. The way e dey treat me sef, e come dey spoil me pass before, dey carry me go auction. Anything wey my eye look, e go buy, no argue. One time, I dey look one painting, before I reach house, courier man don deliver am.

I no fit remember who talk am first—maybe Naija blog or street gist—but e true: Kunle dey settle all him babe well, no matter how the thing end. If na money, you go see alert; if na connection, doors go open. E be like person wey dey pay off guilt.

Night before his birthday, two envelope land my table—house document and car papers. My hand dey shake, sweat dey my palm, as if dem just announce lottery for my head. I call am, voice dey shake, heart dey drum like talking drum.

He pick quick, sound like person wey just wake: "Na your birthday, you dey give me this kind big gift, you no feel say you dey lose?"

He laugh, calm: "Lose ke? I like you, I wan treat you well." His laughter dey light, but e heavy for my chest.

E be like joke for love, but na real thing for am.

I hold my hand, try hide my tears. I talk: "All these things too much o, e be like bride price."

He quiet for long, na that kind silence wey no get solution. Tears just dey drop, I no fit hold am. My heart dey tight.

Last last, he reply, voice soft, like person wey dey beg spirit: "Amaka. No think too much. Sleep, I go pick you tomorrow night."

Should I believe am? Maybe na love. Or maybe, e dey use all these things hold me, to avoid wahala when break up come. My mind dey scatter.