Chapter 3: Comments and Confusion

2

I spend the whole afternoon dey arrange my thoughts.

I no even fit chop. I dey pace up and down like person wey miss transport fare. My mind dey jam question like radio station wey dem no tune well.

Na that time I come realise say the world wey I dey, na inside one wish-fulfillment, counterattack novel.

I just dey laugh myself. E be like say na film trick. Na so my life don turn plot twist for social media.

Halima na the main guy, me na the wicked supporting character wey go dey do evil, and last-last, na the second female lead go lock me for basement till I kpai.

Na who write this kind script? I never see my own life reach like this before. If dem dey do Big Brother, dem for even pity me.

No wonder anybody wey near Halima just dey like magnet, as if the whole world dey revolve around am.

Everything just dey follow her like fly wey see sugar. Even my own shadow dey follow Halima pass me.

Today na wah.

If wahala dey market, today na market day.

After I baff finish that night, I check my phone to relax—na so I see hate comments everywhere.

My phone nearly fall for ground. E be like say dem send memo round: "Drag Kunle today."

All my WhatsApp, na so dem bombard am; everybody dey support main guy Halima.

From old classmates to people wey I no even save number, na so message dey enter like election result.

My childhood sweetheart, Amaka, send me message for WhatsApp:

[Kunle, no think say I no sabi—you dey use all these bad moves just to make me leave Halima and run come back to you.]

[Heh, all this wahala just to see me. No wahala, you win. Friday afternoon, same spot.]

E weak me. Na so old gist dey return like bad spirit. I just look phone, hiss.

I no answer, just block am, lock my phone.

If e no be for privacy, by now I for delete WhatsApp.

Comments just scatter everywhere:

[I no dey support am, but this guy own wickedness get reason. Na big man pikin, sharp guy, then overnight, e papa, mama, babe, friends, all just face another guy. Who no go vex?]

[Fine boy, get money—why e go dey lose to the main guy wey no even sabi use computer well? This story no balance...]

[If na me be the author, I go slap the crazy babe once, the crazy guy twice, then lock wicked supporting character and yandere second female lead for basement. Dem go born eight pikin. How e go be?]

All this talk fit make person get headache. E no go better for wicked scriptwriters.

"..."

Abeg, I no dey for that kind wahala.

I just carry myself go lie down. If dem dey share drama, I don get enough.

After I calm down, I wan sleep—just remove my boxers—na so bedroom door open.

My mind quick reset. I fit swear say I lock this door o.

Ifeoma eye just scan me from head reach down.

She no talk, she just dey watch like say she dey do market survey.

I rush wear my bathrobe.

As a Naija man, I no dey used to woman wey go just burst enter room. I sef shame catch me. I just dey fumble with the rope of the bathrobe.

"Sorry, you forget lock door."

Her voice steady, but her eyes dey catch every movement. Na so woman dey act when she dey hide wetin dey her mind.

Ifeoma dey look me, small black scales dey show for her skin.

Under the light wey dey blink from the corridor, I see say her skin dey shine small-small. Those scales na the kind wey dem dey talk for old women tori.

Everybody dey fear her like she be mammy water, or maybe one of those night spirits wey old women dey warn about. If succubus dey aroused, she no fit hide her real form...

I no fit lie, I shock small. I never see am reach this level before. My belle just dey twist.

I wan talk, "Comot," but I see comments:

[Kunle, abeg treat your wife, Ifeoma, well! If you run your mouth now, you go suffer for basement later—your mouth no go rest.]

Na this time I realize say, ehn, no be every fight you suppose fight. Sometimes, to keep house peaceful, just cool temper.

As I see the comments, I quickly change mouth, give Ifeoma weak smile.

The smile no reach my eye, but at least, e better than fight.

"No wahala, wif—"

As I wan finish, mouth dey dry. Na so I dey tongue-tied like JAMB candidate for oral exam.

Ifeoma, wey don dey turn to go, stop, her eyes dark, dey wait for me to talk finish.

She no dey rush, but I feel say na test. If I mis-yarn now, e go hard to repair.

Chai, see as all those 'wife' comments for the comments section don enter my head. Now I dey slip too...

I dey laugh for my mind. Social media wahala, e no dey finish. Dem don almost brainwash me.

[You dey kill us! Just call her 'wife'—she go give you everything. Who main guy help?]

This life no balance. Person no fit know which side better.

The comments dey argue two sides.

Everybody dey talk their own. My head dey split.

I raise eyebrow, wan test which side true, so I just play along:

I decide to play the game. Na only experiment go fit solve the equation.

"Ifeoma, you feel say my body fine?"

As the question land, she pause. Her voice low, she no look my eye directly.

"E normal," she talk, her eyes down, I no fit read am.

But the way she talk am, e be like say she dey hide small smile. My mind dey play me, abi she dey shy?

She shift leg, dey scratch floor with her toe, like small pikin wey dem catch for kitchen.

[Second female lead dey form! No wonder after all these years, male supporting character still dey think of childhood sweetheart.]

Dem dey use us catch cruise.

I no gree, I waka near, dey tease am: "You no even look. How you go sabi?"

My voice dey playful, like small pikin wey dey beg for gala for traffic. E get as e be.

"No need to look." Ifeoma voice cold, but her finger dey shake, knuckle don red, almost tear her trouser.

I notice say her hand dey grip her cloth tight, vein dey show. Small time, I fit see tear for her eye. My heart soft small.

Since when I no notice? She even dey cute when she dey shy.

Normally, I go just waka commot, but this time, I look am well. All the sharp edges for her face don smooth small.

I see say her collar rough, I reach out to arrange am.

No wahala, I just stretch hand, try fix her shirt, the way my mama dey do for me before I go church.

My hand dey tremble. I dey fear say if I touch am, she fit break. But my body no gree me stop.

"No touch me." Her voice cold, but e get small soft for inside.

She talk am, but her body dey betray her. Na so woman dey do for this Lagos—face strong, heart soft.

Still dey form hard guy.

I freeze, remember the comments argument.

My hand hang for air. I no fit move. E get as e dey do me. My mind dey process all the comments—love, hate, everything dey jam for inside.

True. For three years, I never show Ifeoma any kindness, but Halima dey always treat her soft, like small sun, dey make her dey open up.

Even me dey surprise say I dey reason all this deep matter now. Na so person dey wise up when heat catch am.

No wonder Ifeoma dey vex for me.

E pain me small. Maybe I no dey try enough. Maybe all this my wahala na my own hand cause am.

I laugh myself, withdraw my hand for air. "Abeg, close door as you dey go. I wan sleep."

I no wan force anything. I just talk am, dey hope say e go help clear the air.

She close door, but instead make she go, she begin waka come my side, step by step.

Her leg slow, but steady. E be like say she dey gather courage. My mind dey reason, "Wetin she dey plan?"

Her breath dey hot, her eyes red as she dey try hold herself.

E be like say fire dey burn for inside her. Her chest dey rise and fall. For the first time, I dey see her as woman wey get blood dey flow, not just CEO robot.

Na so I dey reason, this one pass Harmattan fever—e be like say na real animal heat.

Na that time I notice say something dey wrong. "Ifeoma, wetin happen? Fever dey catch you?"

I touch her forehead small, e dey hot like person wey run marathon for sun.

Comments:

[Technically, na heat dey catch her... No, second female lead, abeg no fall finish! This guy just dey use you play, and you don dey excited so till you enter heat early.]

Dem dey talk say na only animal dey get heat, but this one na real human wahala.

"Heat?" I mumble.

I dey confuse. All my life, I never hear say woman fit dey get this kind wahala for house.

Three years of marriage—I never know say Ifeoma dey get heat.

Na real shocker. All this while, I dey think say na just mood swing.

Comments:

[Male supporting character no sabi, e think say second female lead be saint. Abeg, she be succubus, and your body na correct package—number one for this story.]

[For all the heat before, Ifeoma go dey thief your boxers, go hide for herself, no wan make you see am.]

[Now wey you talk am, those poor clothes—na so second female lead dey soak dem with her feelings...]

I dey imagine all the times wey my singlet dey miss. E be like say my guy for street dey collect am, no know say na madam dey corner.

I just dey look the comments like say na filter dey my face.

I shake head. Life no balance at all.

So na because she dey on heat she no wan make I touch her just now?

I dey reason am, dey pity her small. E mean say all this time, she dey fight her own battle too.

Ifeoma no fit bear again, she rub her face for my neck.

Her skin dey pale, but red dey flush her face, her eyes dey lost, all that her coldness don melt.

Her breath dey hot for my skin. I fit smell the coconut oil wey she use rub body. My heart beat dey quicken.

All this time, I dey focus on fight with Halima and how to win back Amaka, I no even look Ifeoma well.

E pain me. I just dey pursue shadow, dey forget wetin dey my front. Typical Naija man wahala.

I no know say she fit fine reach this level—face fine pass all those Nollywood actresses for TV.

If dem dey do beauty contest for this estate, she go carry first without sweat.