Chapter 8: Memories of First Love

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As I look Obiora, my mind just dey wander.

Images of the past raced through my mind—Obiora’s laughter, the way he used to chase chickens just to make me smile. As my grandma say, ‘If chicken dey run, na person dey chase am.’

The Obiora I know before no be like this.

He was gentle, kind—softer than yam pounded with love. Now, only hard edges remained.

He be like cool breeze and bright moon, face clean, look like person wey no get wahala for life.

He would hold my hand during night walks, humming old songs his mother sang. His voice soothed my fears back then.

Until he jam me.

Our worlds collided, two misfits finding home in each other.

That time, he return as hostage prince, nobody send am; me, I just land Palm Grove, nobody send me too.

We were both outsiders—he, the forgotten prince; me, the strange girl from the border. Our loneliness drew us close.

Two people wey nobody send, easy to become close.

We built our own world, hidden from palace rules and wagging tongues.

Sometimes, na just one spark dey start fire.

It was a small look, a smile. From that, wildfire.

That year, he dey careful with me, no even dare kiss.

He respected my space, always asking before touching. It made me trust him, made me bold.

He say, "Even though Palm Grove people dey free, this kind thing… e dey hard for woman."

He worried about my reputation, even as I laughed off the risk.

I look am, no understand.

I frowned, not used to his hesitation. I was used to getting what I wanted.

"Hard? E bad for woman to talk her mind? If I like, I want, I go take. If you no wan, I go find another."

My words made him blush, but I meant them. Life too short to wait for permission.

He panic: "Morayo!"

His eyes wide, his lips pursed. I nearly laughed.

I frown, cover my ears: "Why you dey shout? We both agree, na both of us want, wetin bad?"

I stuck out my tongue, playful as always. He sighed, running a hand over his hair.

"People go talk."

He glanced around, always afraid of eyes in the shadows.

"People don dey talk since you start with me. You think dem care if e really happen? If I fear talk, I for no even near you."

I shrugged, arms crossed, daring him to argue. Obiora shook his head, defeated by my boldness.

"You no care, but I gats responsible. For this kind matter, na woman dey suffer," Obiora talk serious, "woman first time dey important."

His voice softened, concern etched deep. He wanted to protect me, even from myself.

I no gree: "If you wan talk like that, no be only first time, every time dey important. Whether I gree, whether I happy, na that one matter."

I saw him pause, considering my words. My stubbornness matched his worry.

Obiora dumb for mouth, no fit talk back.

He opened and closed his mouth, no words coming. I felt a small victory.

He sigh, look me straight: "But Morayo, I hope you go give me real place for your life."

His eyes shone with hope, voice barely above a whisper.

"Well," I look away, "we go talk that one later."

I dodged the question, afraid to promise what I could not give.

He panic again: "Morayo!"

He grabbed my wrist, pulling me close. His fear was plain.

I tiptoe go near am: "Wetin, you wan marry me like that?"

My lips brushed his ear, teasing. The air thickened between us.

Obiora stand, eyes deep.

He took my face in his hands, voice trembling. The moon lit his features in silver.

"Yes," he admit, "I want am so till e dey craze me."

His honesty stunned me. I swallowed, unsure.

I shock for his honesty.

He had always worn his heart on his sleeve. Tonight, it beat in his open palm.

As I dey look, he hold me tight, his fingers pressing my neck.

I felt the pressure, not painful but grounding. I leaned into him, surrendering to the moment.

"…You go kill me finish."

He laughed, voice low, eyes shining with love.

I blink, no send: "True? Then I strong well."

My laughter bubbled out, bright and free. For a moment, we were just two young lovers again.

Under the palm trees, fronds just dey hang like rain.

The rustle of leaves, the scent of earth after rain—everything felt alive, crackling with promise.

Obiora turn, kiss me, so moved even his eyelashes dey shake.

His kiss was gentle, trembling. I held his face, letting the past and present blend.

"I go give you everything, just no find another."

His vow lingered in the air, a promise we both knew might never be kept. My heart ached with hope and fear.