Chapter 3: Betrayal Cut Deep, But I No Gree

Lin Shola no gree commot no matter wetin I talk.

She just siddon for bed, cross leg, dey look me. Even security dem dey fear to enter. I no blame dem, wahala dey room.

I no get choice, call security make dem carry her commot.

I dial Chief Sani, head of estate security. I talk sharp sharp: "Come this side, bring two men." Within minutes, dem knock for door, wear uniform, face serious.

Chuka show him teeth, for the struggle for my phone, na so he bite me.

The bite heavy, blood flow. Security shout, "Madam!" One try hold Chuka, but e dodge like small rat.

My finger tear, blood dey flow.

I wrap am for wrapper, sweat full body. My eye dey pepper me, but I no gree cry. E no go better for this wahala day.

As I dey feel the pain, na so comments float for my eye:

[Even now, the supporting female still no fit abandon the male lead.]

[Who go believe say the male lead go ignore the rich and fine supporting female, dey follow only the nanny wey she hire for am?]

[Na because the male lead sabi—true true, the female lead na the real heiress of the Okoye family, lost and raised for outside.]

[Later, the female lead go return to the rich family, sack the supporting female, then collect the male lead. The face-slapping big heroine plot dey sweet no be small!]

……

The comments just dey dance for my head, like Alujo drummers wey no wan stop.

After I read the comments,

I realize say na inside sweet romance novel I dey, with all those “swapped heiress” gist, plus beastmen join.

I remember those tales my cousin dey follow for Facebook, all those 'Rich girl, poor background, true love' matter. Now, e be like say na my life turn Nollywood script.

Chuka na the male lead, Lin Shola na the female lead.

And me—na the wicked supporting female wey dey disturb heroine, later go collect punishment.

Just like all those Sunday Telenovela for AIT. The wicked stepmother must suffer last last. I dey see the handwriting for wall.

Wetin I do wrong?

Just sack the female lead, disturb their love small.

For my mind, I dey reason: If na my own house, my own pet, my own money, I no fit get small peace? E dey pain me.

How e take end? Dem go sack me, suppress me, make I die for another person land.

Na so so dem dey do for story—make person suffer on top small offense.

That punishment no fit the crime at all.

For real life, dem go just settle, shake hand. But for this my own, wahala must grow.

I wan ask the author question.

If to say I fit drag am, I for just vex go drop comment: 'Biko, madam author, wetin I do you?' But who dey hear me?

I be small-town pikin wey hustle, skip class, nearly twenty years of school, get three PhDs, even my oga like me for work, na so I take reach middle manager for Okoye Group.

I remember the midnight candle, the years of borrowing handout, the nights of eating pure water and garri. Na hustle bring me here, not luck.

And just because I sack nanny, I come turn target for rich heiress revenge?

I gats reason am. Because for Naija, dem go say: 'No let person use your head do mugu.'

I no gree.

I fold hand, raise chin. For this life, I no fit dey beg on top my own wahala.

I no see say I do anything wrong.

I look myself for mirror. Na so I dey reason: Who go see my side of story?

My finger still dey pour blood.

I squeeze am, dey press tissue. I dey hear pulse for my ear, like drum.

Chuka bite me well.

For my mind, I dey reason: This one pass ordinary pet—e don turn to enemy inside house.

That time wey Chuka almost land for beastman shelter, na me spend big money carry am come out.

I remember the form, the line, the wahala—nobody gree help me. Na so I squeeze last card, bring am home. Still, na so so wahala.

He no even remember that kindness.

Na so dem dey do for this world. You go help person, e go forget. Old people dey say, 'If you do good, no expect thank you.'

Finger pain reach my chest—e pain die.

I hug arm, hiss. I dey feel as if dem pour hot pepper for my heart.

I look Lin Shola, still dey form righteous.

She just dey stand, dey look me, head high, like say she win court case.

Chuka no even send me.

E dey wipe eye, dey follow Shola dey go. Me, I dey like tree wey breeze blow pass.

I vex die.

My chest dey burn, eyes dey hot, but I just bone.

I no fit dey beg these two wey dey treat me like housegirl.

I swallow spit, clear throat, gather small dignity wey remain. If e too pain, I fit go cry for bathroom. But here, I go stand strong.

Before, I no get anything.

If e come be say I no get again, no wahala.

Na just one life—I ready.

I reason say, if I go back to how I start, na nothing new. From zero to something, back to zero. I fit still start again.

Forget all those spoilers.

Na to drive this so-called female lead comot dey my mind.

I plan quick action—call agency, arrange file, move sharp. I go show say no be everybody fit use me do yeye.

Lin Shola dey proud.

She cross arm, chin high, dey look me like queen wey no dey fear anybody.

“You wan drive me? No wahala.”

“But I go carry Chuka follow body.”

Her voice sharp. I dey see pride wey dey shine for her face. E be like say she dey dare me.

The comments dey hype:

[The female lead too get mind—even as she no get anything, she still wan carry her man go…]

[If supporting female no gree, make she wait for Okoye family wahala!]

For my mind, I dey roll eye. E be like say dem dey watch telenovela. Everybody get opinion.

Lin Shola move come front as she talk.

She take one step, body straight. Even her slippers dey clap for floor.

The comments dey shout: [E go set!]

Set, ko. Set, ni.

I whisper for my mind: Set na for generator, no be for this life.

Dem talk say if love pass through wahala, e go sweet. Make I add more wahala for them.

If na wahala dem want, I get basket full. Make dem collect.

I hiss:

“Chuka na me buy am with three hundred thousand.”

“He get my surname, dey chop my food, dey use my things—I don raise am for three years.”

“Lin Shola, you wan chop free thing?”

My eyes sharp, voice no dey soft at all. I dey let her know say for Lagos, nothing dey free.

Lin Shola face change colour—red, white, green. I just dey look.

E be like rainbow dey shine for her face. I dey enjoy the sight small.

Last last, she talk:

“I go pay you back.”

Her voice low, but she still dey strong. She dey squeeze small purse for hand, knuckles white.

I look her from head to toe, then look Chuka wey dey hold her hand like say na him last hope.

I dey wonder which kind plan dem dey plan. Who go dash them three hundred thousand for Lagos?

I hiss again:

“Chuka na ajebo—anything wey he dey use, chop, wear, na better thing.”

“How you wan take feed am? How you wan pay me back?”

I remember how much I dey spend for Chuka food—organic meat, special fish, imported shampoo. Na so I dey laugh for my mind.

The comments dey shout:

[Supporting female, no look down on people—our female lead go soon return to Okoye family!]

[Once female lead reach her real family, she go just use one finger finish supporting female!]

I roll my eye, hiss. For Naija, e dey easy to talk, but action hard pass.

I look Chuka, wey dey repeat, “I wan follow Shola-anti,” then I call agency.

My hand dey shake, but I call sharp sharp. Agency lady talk say dem go send staff soon.

Dem carry Lin Shola go, everywhere come calm.

Security lead her out. She turn back, wave small for Chuka, tears for eye. Room quiet like say NEPA just take light.

If no be for Chuka, that yeye fox, wey dey cry near me:

“I wan follow Shola-anti.”

“Even if you keep me, you no fit keep my heart.”

“I hate you, Pei Zainab.”

E dey sob, voice crack. For small moment, e pain me. But I no show am.

Even as he dey cry, Chuka still fine.

Na true. Even as eye red, fur rough, him face still dey like better pet.

But that feeling wey I get when I first see am—say I go carry am house, take care of am—e don die.

That old ginger, that hope, e don disappear. Like rain wey finish, sun come out.

Now, na only disgust remain.

I shake head, reason say na so life be. Sometimes, your own love go turn to pepper for your eye.

I just talk “okay” and waka comot.

The words cut me, but I lock face, waka comot. For corridor, my legs dey heavy, but I no stop. I swear, e no go better for this kind heartbreak.

No look back, just close door, go bathroom wash hand, hold myself.