Chapter 2: After Kenechukwu

After I divorce Kenechukwu Nnaji, everybody think say I go still dey hold am tight. Family, old church friends, even my mama for village dey send message: "Na so you go leave that fine bobo?" WhatsApp group just dey buzz my name like hot akara. But for inside, na my own peace I dey find—not all this public validation.

He announce our marriage when him career dey peak. Social media scatter—Channels TV, blogs, radio, everywhere carry our wedding. "Top Nollywood Star Marries Mysterious Beauty!" Some dey talk say I win lottery, others say na jazz. I dey scroll comments, some dey sweet, some dey bite, but na my own happiness I focus.

After we marry, his image change for better. Every time he win award, people dey mention me. Yoruba aunty for my compound always dey remind me, "Ifunanya, na you change dat boy life." Suya seller for junction dey hail, "Madam Kene, abeg bring luck come buy meat!" People even dey add my name for prayer point—make their own pikin get my "star."

But na me bring up divorce. Nobody expect am. Even Uju, my padi, just open mouth when I tell am. "Ifu, you dey craze?" But I no fit stay where love don dry finish.

Meanwhile, he don dey wait make I talk am since. Now I look back, I fit see say him heart don waka. Sometimes, person dey wait make you end am, so e go clear conscience. All those cold nights, late returns, e show.

Morayo, that actress for his new drama, start dey wear him shirts, dey use him phone case, dey do couple things with am for set... Gist dey fly: "Morayo and Kenechukwu don dey do like husband and wife o." PA dey laugh when she waka with him jacket. Hashtags like #MoraKene dey trend. Me, I dey look from far, heart dey squeeze like garri for nylon.

I still dey check calendar, dey wait for him to come home. Each time I call, na "I dey busy, babe" I go hear, then call go end. My heart dey break small small, but my hope dey scatter, I dey use prayer patch am.

Until one day, I jam Morayo for first class. Na God wan expose everything. As I siddon for seat 2A, Morayo waka enter, wig dey bounce, bag for hand. She spot me, smile like old friend.

"Aunty Ifunanya!" Her voice high. She lean close, perfume choke. Hostess dey watch us like two celebrity wives. She whisper, "I use his card for this flight." Her breath warm, message clear—she dey mark territory. My mind flash to all those late night work stories. E clear now.

She do am on purpose—make I no get doubt, so I go tire, pack my load, waka. Na sharp Naija girl move—no drag, just scatter softly.

Na the final push I need. Shame don do, pain don too much. I bone face, carry myself like dignified Igbo woman wey sabi her worth.

Just as she want, I pack out in less than thirty minutes. I no waste time—enter house, gather things, Ghana-Must-Go, waka. No cry, no shout. Even security man dey look, mouth open. For my mind, I just dey tell myself, "Ifu, no look back." Mama Blessing peep from balcony, dey whisper, "Na wah o, this kain thing fit happen to anybody."

I no want anything wey don dirty. Once wahala too much, better to throway am. I pack all his shirts, perfumes, even ring. I no carry any gift—memory wey dey pain no be souvenir.

Thank God, no pikin join. If child dey, e for hard. Mama later thank God, "At least you no carry small pikin suffer for their wahala."

Kenechukwu just lean for door, dey watch. He no talk much, just dey look like person dey watch last episode of soap. Face blank, eyes cold, like say stranger dey pack out.

He no even shake, just ask, "You still need anything again?"

Voice low, no feeling. My chest tight, but I no show am. For Igbo land, woman suppose strong—no beg, no show weakness.

"Your phone."

I talk am straight. No time for drama. My voice firm, face hard. I no let am see any tear.

He blink small, but hand steady as he unlock and give me phone. I see small regret for his eye, but pride no let am talk.

Those days, even when money no dey, na my chat always dey top for him phone. If person text, he go rush reply me. Sometimes, screenshot my message, use am as wallpaper. Na those small things dey sweet woman.

Now, I don waka go down. New chat don pin. Only message: 'Do Not Disturb.'

The message cut like knife. I drop phone, hand steady, face blank. If person dey look, dem go think say I be ice queen, but inside, I dey melt.

We get divorce agreement. Sit down with lawyer, sign paper, no long talk. My papa call, "You sure you wan do am?" I answer, "Yes, papa." Voice strong, but na for my own sake.

He give me everything—money, property, even endorsement. He just say, "Let me go, Ifu." E pain, but I no argue.

He talk say e truly love Morayo. Eye soft, "Na Morayo my heart dey." I nod, carry bag, waka.

We sign confidentiality agreement. The day I left, I think say na the end. No social media, no press release. I off phone. As I close gate, I tell myself, "This one don end."

Until he call again. One month never pass, my phone ring—na him. My hand dey shake as I pick.

"Let’s meet."

Voice steady, no emotion. I dey wonder—wetin remain to talk?

Area never even settle last gist, another drama dey come. "We no fit let fans think you cheat. The show still need to air." I fit sense say e no be about us, but public story. Image na everything for him work. I gree meet.

I arrive early, as usual. Lounge dey buzz, staff dey waka. My mind dey wander, but body dey strong.

For lounge, I overhear Kenechukwu manager dey try convince am. Manager loud, I shrink for seat, dey hear. "After divorce, you still hot cake. But her, na gist she go be, people go laugh." E pain me, but I bone.

"She no fit let go." Manager dey paint me like desperate. My jaw tight, but I still dey act like I no hear.

"Just trick her, tell am say you wan go reality show together." I dey reason—so dem dey use person for entertainment. Mind dey boil, I no talk.

"Let her think hope still dey, so she go try please you. In the end, audience go think she desperate, you go keep your fine-boy image." Na movie script dem dey plan.

Manager nudge am, "Guy, you dey hear me so?" E dey act like small thing, but I sabi say e serious.

"Believe am, just signal her small, she go run come like grateful puppy." Manager laugh. But I dey tell myself—no be me dem go use.

Inside meeting room, aircon dey blow, but room hot with tension. I sit opposite am, hand steady. I dey look him face for guilt behind smile.

Kenechukwu dey fiddle phone. Thumb dey scroll, eyes no meet mine. Na so big boys dey do.

He just talk few words, mind don make decision.

"No wahala," I answer. Shock flash for him face. For my mind, I dey plan my own move.

"I go for the show." Voice steady. If I fit face this drama, nothing fit shake me.

He look me eye, pause: "So you really... still dey obsessed with me?" Na test, dey wait for weakness. I lower eyes, play role. Naija sabi package face.

Inside, I dey laugh. E never know say table fit turn. I dey remind myself—keep cool, dem go soon see real colour.

I lower lashes, hide fire. "Yes." I force word, no emotion. Mind already dey waka.

"Kenechukwu, hope still dey?" Voice shaky on purpose. Let am believe I still dey under control. Small acting fit win big battle.

Eyes cold, he turn away, voice low, "We go see how you behave." Like judge. No wahala.

"But," he add, "the script for this show no be wetin you think." I nod, act fear. Inside, I ready. No script fit hold my story.

This divorce reality show go make waves. Even my cousin dey look forward, dey beg for gist. The show go scatter social media.

E go air same time as Morayo and him new drama. Na double wahala. Gist go full everywhere—people no go know where to face. I dey prepare for the storm.

To hype on-screen chemistry with Morayo—na marketing. Everybody sabi say controversy dey sell. The show dress like therapy, but na views dem dey chase. Everybody dey wait for wahala.

Morayo and am go share room. Producers dey arrange am so audience go see "real" chemistry. Na their style.

Me and Morayo husband go share room. Na the twist wey go confuse everybody. Comments go dey, "Why dem mix am like that?" My mind dey strong, ready for anything.

That Emeka, wey blow at nineteen, win all awards, retire quick marry. People still dey talk about his first blockbuster. Even barber for street dey use him face as poster. Legend for Nollywood.

Dem always compare the two—Emeka get fame fast, Kenechukwu dey chase. E pain am deep.

He get fame because him face resemble Emeka. Producers dey call am "Emeka-lite." Even fans dey mix their pictures.

Rumour say after marriage, Morayo and Emeka dey live different cities. Naija gist full everywhere. Some say contract marriage. Nobody really sabi the truth.

She love am but no fit reach am. Industry yarn say she dey chase am, but Emeka just dey him lane.