Chapter 3: Rainy Fate and Lagos Men

I rub my eyes. All those small small words disappear.

I blink, look around, check say na only me dey hear all these voices. Maybe na lack of sleep, or na juju dey do me?

Omo, na sleep dey worry me, I dey hallucinate.

I tell myself say no be jazz, na just all-night wahala dey make my head touch. Lagos stress and body pain fit cause anything.

I try calm down, bring out my phone, message Obiora:

[Hey babe, you remember when you talk say you no go ever fall for me, even if you jump from building?]

[Na so me too, hehe.]

[No fear, I no go tell people say you dey hang pepper for tree.]

[Even if you no perfect, at least you dey try.]

[This time for real, I dey go—8am flight, 12pm male model.]

[No miss me too much o.]

I send am. Delivered.

I stare the screen, heartbeat dey skip. You know when you send that kind risky text, you go dey calculate how e go land.

Ten minutes later, Obiora reply:

[Don’t. Let. Me. Catch. You.]

Just three words, but e heavy like Olumo rock. My mind dey play Obiora face, teeth dey grind like say e dey chew stone.

I fit hear am dey grind teeth for my mind.

True true, na wahala I dey find, but I no send.

But abeg, I don dey waka already.

I just shoulder my bag, give myself mind. "Na today, na today," I yarn myself, as I push trolley reach terminal.

Na so my phone ping!

That vibration scare me small, but I check quick. E fit be family or worse, Obiora own.

His secretary text: [Miss Ifeoma, wahala dey o! As you send that message, Oga Obiora dey share screen. Whole company see am. He don dey find you now now.]

See as I open mouth. This kain drama na only for Nollywood dem dey do am. I dey imagine all those HR people dey hide laugh for boardroom.

[No wahala, I dey go abroad soon,] I reply, no even shake, scan code book massage.

No shame, I just dey reason my own life. I book full-body massage, tell myself say stress no go kill me. If wahala go land, make I enjoy small.

I just dey relax, eyes closed, when airport PA shout: “Because of weather, Flight XXX don cancel.”

I shock. That announcement loud like Sunday morning bell for village. Na so I sit up, check around, people dey complain.

That one sound familiar…

I get one kain déjà vu. No be only me, other passengers dey vex, dey call relatives.

I check my ticket. Chai! Na my flight dem cancel.

If you see the way I sigh, you go know say no be today juju start.

I rush call my papa, maybe e fit change weather. As dem dey talk, no be every masquerade fit dance for every festival.

As big succubus, small tail flick, weather dey change.

I dey hope say papa go just blow breeze, everywhere go dry, plane go fly. After all, power dey body.

Two minutes later, papa reply: Too far, I no fit help.

See as I weak. Even papa power no reach this side. I look heaven, tell myself say maybe na destiny dey block me.

Na so I know say wahala don land.

I gree, na time to accept fate. When the gods say 'no', you no fit force am.

After all my sharp moves, na fate come dey play me now.

This life sha—after you finish to plan, one small thing fit scatter everything. Lagos never change.

Bullet comments begin fall like rain:

[Plot twist! Our Obiora na succubus too, e fit control weather.]

[If Ifeoma no send that message, e for still get small chance. Now e don finish. Second male lead dey sharpen knife.]

[Who talk say this story dry? E hot! Angry sex dey sweet pass. If na me, I go just hold second male lead leg. No matter how fine main girl be, she no fit pass pure succubus.]

[Abeg shift, make una let supporting babe breathe. Ifeoma, go buy chips chop. E no go help, but at least e sweet.]

If na my own ancestors dey type, dem for tell me say, "Better stay one place, Ifeoma."

Thanks, you thunder-struck angel.

I whisper am for under my breath. Sometimes, spiritual wahala na only to teach you lesson.

Outside, thunder and lightning dey shake everywhere.

The whole place just dark, everybody dey run enter shelter. Rain begin fall, and I dey reason say Obiora hand dey inside.

If those comments true, I no fit match Obiora level.

My mind dey play different scenes, my chest dey tight. I dey ask myself, "You sure say you get sense?"

If fight no go work, hide.

Sharp girl, survival first. I hide tail under jacket, hold bag tight.

Ten days, half month—e go tire na.

I convince myself say if I hide well, Obiora go forget me. But I dey deceive myself.

No even wan think am, I grab my bag run.

No time for second thoughts. Na now or never.

But I under-rate Obiora.

You know say Lagos men no dey carry last? Na so e be.

As I reach terminal exit, bodyguards full everywhere.

Big, dark, dem no dey smile. If you see the way dem stand, you go think say na president dey come.

For middle, with dark shade, BOSS aura everywhere: Obiora.

He stand like king for middle of his boys. Shade dey cover eyes, but the way e cross leg, you go know say e no come play.

“Run now, why you stop?”

“No wan miss your twelve o’clock male model, abi?”

Obiora voice deep, e carry wahala. Even security dey look me with side-eye. I try hold my own.

Still wear black suit from morning, collar loose, tie bend, eyes dey my body with half-smile.

E get one bad-boy swag, e dey bite bottom lip small. Na so girls for airport dey peep—dem no know say na pure madness dey inside.

My leg nearly fail, but I squeeze smile: “Who dey run? My brother just born my grandma, I need go house check am.”

I even add small hand gesture. Make dem think say na real family emergency.

[Bullet comment: Babe, your brother born your grandma? Supporting babe, no do pass yourself.]

True! Even me shock at my own lie. That one na real freestyle.

I try waka commot.

I take small step, dey hope say dem go shift for me.

Suddenly, ground disappear from my feet.

Before I fit blink, Obiora don grab me like sack of rice. E carry me put for shoulder, I dey see back of e head. People dey clap, one mama even shout, “Na so love dey do?” Me, I dey shame.

Obiora just grab my collar, carry me for shoulder. “No rush.”

He dey waka slow, make sure everybody see say na me be him own. E pride no get part two.

Maybe you no dey rush, but me I dey!

I dey struggle. “Leave me! This na law-abiding country, wetin you dey do?!”

I dey wave leg, dey punch back, but e no dey move.

“Wetin you think?”

He smirk, throw me inside car, lips close to my ear, whisper something wey make me wan vanish.

I never see person wey dey confident like this. E hot pass pepper.

“Simple—I wan do you.”

That one enter my ear, land for bone. My spirit commot body come back again.