Chapter 2: Marking No Be Love

Ikenna enter heat again.

For the dim room, the air thick with scent, e just dey swirl everywhere, dey try mix with my own. Generator noise dey hum for compound, but inside this room, na only our breath dey loud. The wall paint dey peel small-small from old humidity. My body dey sweat for places I no even sabi, as his presence dey press on me like old Ankara wrapper. This scent war, na only we dey fight am—no be small wahala.

But still e no do am, he press me tight, sharp teeth pierce my neck again.

His breath hot for my skin, teeth dey shake my body, as if na so dem dey write history for bone and blood. I fit hear my own heartbeat loud for my ear, thump-thump like drum for new yam festival.

The tenth mark.

My head dey turn, pain dey burn my neck again.

Sweat dey drip from my forehead, I feel like say na iron dey pass through my veins. Even my spirit wan commot from body, but I gree hold on because na my cross be this.

I no fit bear am anymore, I try turn my head small to dodge am.

Tears threaten to fall, but I hold am back—make I no look weak finish. My hand dey shake, leg dey soft like soaked garri. This kind pain, e no be for small pikin.

Man wey dey inside heat dey vex easily. As he notice say I dey resist, he just hold me tighter.

His arms dey like chain for my waist, pressing me as if he wan mould me inside him own shadow. The weight of his need dey almost suffocate me, but my body still dey obey.

Him fingertips dey rub my neck, him voice dey beg:

"No go, abeg... my wife."

His words soft, but the plea dey shake me, as if my leaving go scatter his world. For that moment, I see small fear for his eyes, wetin I never see since I know am.

Him nose brush my neck, dey breathe in deep, dey kiss, dey long for me:

"Just small scent again... wife, abeg, give me your scent."

His mouth dey hot, like pepper soup, as he press lips for my skin. I almost pity am, but na me dey suffer pass.

But he no know say, just to help am pass this heat, my own scent nearly finish.

My chest dey tight, as if my spirit dey fade. I wan shout say, 'I don tire!' but na only sigh come out. The room dey spin, everything just dey move for my front like people for Oshodi market.

Tears dey my eye, everywhere dey blur, na so I see lines of comments dey float for air:

[This thing funny, the supporting wife and main man scent no just match. Even one hundred marks no fit help.]

[No wahala, our real wife and am na one hundred percent match.]

[Just dey wait, once real wife show, small scent go cool the main man down, hehe.]

[When the extra wife go commot? Our real wife na the true match for the main man.]

The words dey sharp for my eye, like blade. Dem no even send my pain, just dey analyze me like I be meat for butchers table. For my mind, I dey beg make this thing end. But comments no dey gree rest, dem dey fly everywhere like mosquitoes for rainy season.

As I see all these talk, I freeze.

Because truly, my compatibility with Ikenna low no be small…

My chest fall, my spirit just dey weak. Even as his arms dey hold me, I feel empty—like say I dey live for another person shadow. Na only God fit understand wetin dey inside my heart.

My mind wander go that time wey I marry Ikenna years back.

I remember that day clear. My mama sew new wrapper, my papa even dance small. Neighbours dey spray us with white rice and small money, as tradition demand. But inside my heart, na only hope dey push me.

Before I even turn omega, I don dey love am for three years.

Everytime I see am for church or family meeting, my heart dey beat double. Even his wahala face dey sweet me, because I know say e get soft side. I dey count the days make my own time reach.

After I finally differentiate, I hear say Okafor family dey find wife for am, and the main thing na scent compatibility.

Aunty Sade come my mama shop, gossip full her mouth. "You don hear? Okafor family dey test scent—dem say na only person wey match go fit marry Ikenna!" My heart jump, but I gree try.

So I submit my scent sample, hope full my body, dey wait result.

I rub my wrist for the small cloth, heart dey beat like drum. When I submit am, I say prayer inside, beg God make this small chance shine for me.

When result come, our compatibility just 9%.

When nurse call me, her face just dey serious. "My dear, you try, but na only 9%." As I hold the paper, my hand dey tremble.

Wetyn 9% mean?

Even ordinary Beta go get at least 30% compatibility with am.

I think say I get chance, but even Betas pass me. I wonder if na my destiny to dey watch from corner.

Doctor talk say if I stay with am, e go hard well well to get belle.

He talk am plain, no sugar. "My sister, make you no vex. This kind match, e rare. You fit try, but e go hard." My heart break small.

He hold the report, talk: "Strange, I never see scents wey no just match like this before."

His eyes dey pity me, but that one no help my wahala. The air for clinic cold, but my body dey hot with shame.

Cold just catch me, I dey look that small paper, my hope just die.

My legs dey shake, na only God hold me make I no fall. I wan cry, but tears stubborn for my eye.

But Ikenna, as usual, no show face. He just collect the report, look that line, no shake.

Him face no dey ever change, like man wey don see everything. He just nod, no drama, as if the report no mean anything.

After small time, he just laugh. "Na you."

His voice dry, but somehow sure. The laugh small, but e carry weight. Like say na me be the answer for question wey no get solution.

I look up, shock, before I realize say na me he dey talk to.

I open mouth, words no gree come out. My spirit even float, dey wonder if I dey dream.

Ikenna eye cold, dey check me:

"Even better than Beta. No wahala. You no go give me stress."

His eyes like cold water, but his words somehow get small comfort. I know say I be option, but at least, he choose me.

For am, this marriage na just to satisfy family. Me, I be tool to calm them.

Na so dem dey do for some big families: arrange matter, make dem look correct for outside. Me, I gree—at least I go get peace.

So, for three years after we marry, I just behave, no cross line.

I dey keep my lane, dey cook, dey clean, dey answer wife like say na government work. Even when love dey bite me, I swallow am like bitterleaf soup.

Now, my husband, lost for him heat, dey hold me, dey beg:

"Why e be say, no matter how I try, I no fit mark you finish?"

His voice crack small, as if pain dey hide under. The question dey hang for room, heavy like old family secret.

"Wife, just small scent again... abeg, wife..."

I fit feel his struggle, like person wey dey swim inside muddy river. My heart wan melt, but my body too tire.