Chapter 1: Instagram Wahala

I stumble on one street interview by one blogger wey dey run Time Capsule, that street interview page.

As I dey scroll through Instagram that evening, one of those Lagos street interview pages just pop up for my feed, with their signature yellow microphone and small swagger. You sabi those people wey dey catch folks for Allen Junction, dey ask random question. I just click am for cruise, no expect say my own matter go land inside.

"What would you like to say to yourself five years ago?"

For the video, Morayo dey hold her young boyfriend hand tight.

Na so I see am—Morayo, my own Morayo, hand locked with one fresh boy wey haircut still dey shine like new note. My chest just shift one kind as I watch them for that Lagos street.

Her voice dey shake small, that Morayo way—she no dey loud when she happy, na that soft, playful kind. If you look well, you go see how she squeeze Tunde hand, as if she dey collect strength from am.

"I wish the Morayo from five years ago could have met Tunde earlier."

The boy beside her just dey shine teeth, repeat after her.

"Me too."

Tunde just dey show himself, like say na jackpot he win. Na so e dey always do, make people see say Morayo dey shine for his side.

You go see emojis everywhere. Commenters dey call them #couplegoals, some dey even tag their babe: 'See as Morayo dey cherish her man, God when?'

Na only me for that whole online world sabi the real gist. Five years ago, na that same day wey me and Morayo tie knot for registry, family and friends full compound, jollof rice dey fly up and down.

As I dey watch am, I fit swear Morayo no even remember say na that exact day, five years back, she dey shine face for me for that wedding photo wey still dey my wall.

Until a week later.

That same blogger, Time Capsule, drop another street interview video.

If you see my face for the video, you go know say matter don reach chest. My eyes no dey play, voice dry as sandpaper.

"If possible, Kunle, no marry Morayo. You go regret am."

This time, Morayo see am. The comment section scatter, people dey argue who be the ex, who be the new catch. But I sabi say Morayo herself see am—my words reach her.

For the first time, my pain no fit hide—Lagos go hear am.