Chapter 3: Enugu Rain, Hotel Secret

3

One time, dem send me and Mrs. Halima go 'East Project'.

Na project for Enugu. Company need people wey sabi ground, na so boss push me and Aunty Halima go together. My mind dey shake—who know wetin fit happen?

She complain all the way for plane—say boss tell am late, she no sleep, reach airport by five for 8 a.m. flight. In the rush, she forget her ID.

For airport, na wahala. She dey rant, dey blame boss for everything. Me I just dey follow her waka, dey form good boy.

Luckily, she get temporary ID for Ibadan Airport, make am enter flight. One airport staff wey know her from church help her package temporary pass. Na so God dey run things for people wey dey help themselves.

We land for Enugu, air dey fresh, red sand dey everywhere, keke napep dey honk like say na Lagos. We go meet client, finish project. Time don reach like four or five in the afternoon.

Work tire us—client sef na wahala person. We manage finish everything, dey look forward to rest for hotel.

For hotel, front desk strict—no gree make Mrs. Halima check in without proper ID. The airport pass no work, dem say make she go community police post get paper.

Hotel people dey form like say dem be SSS. Dem no wan hear story, say "madam, without paper, we no fit help you." Mrs. Halima nearly bite her tongue.

Mrs. Halima argue tire: "I no fit use this temporary ID? Or electronic one?"

Her voice dey rise, but hotel manager dey form stone. Even if she talk till tomorrow, dem no gree.

Front desk no shake. The woman for counter no even blink. Na their way—if you no get paper, forget am.

I try beg receptionist with small tip, but the woman no gree—her face strong like NLC strike. I try use my own ID book another room for her, dem no gree.

Dem check system, say name must match. I dey beg, dey try play smart, but no way.

Na that time client call us for dinner, so we go chop first.

Client na big man—order all the food for table. I dey try form gentle, but my mind dey worry for Mrs. Halima.

Middle of food, Mrs. Halima stand, toast everybody, say she go catch flight go house that night.

She raise glass, dey form calm. "I get family for Ibadan, I must go house tonight," she yarn. Everybody dey hail her, but I know say e no easy.

I help her carry suitcase, see her enter keke.

We drag bag reach outside, rain dey threaten. She enter keke napep, wave me, but I fit see say her mind dey heavy.

That night, I drink scatter with client, go chop puff-puff. For that Enugu, dem dey fry puff-puff for junction—sweet die. After two bottles, I just dey follow breeze.

Around midnight, I stagger come back hotel, wan sleep, phone ring—na Mrs. Halima. Phone dey vibrate for table, I see her name. "Which kind wahala be this?" I talk for myself.

She say she dey hotel entrance, make I come down.

Her voice low, dey beg. Even though I dey high small, I know say e get as e be.

My head still dey spin—she no suppose don go house?

I dey wonder how rain and flight matter take spoil her plan. This Naija weather fit disgrace person.

I come down, see Mrs. Halima for lobby, face don fall. I rush go meet am: "Wetin happen?"

As I reach, she sit down for corner, face look tired, eyes red. I fit smell rain for her cloth.

Mrs. Halima sigh: "All flight cancel because of rain. I no get choice, I run come find you."

Her sigh long. Rain dey beat roof like talking drum, thunder dey warn everybody. She dey look me like say I be last hope.

Me sef confuse. Without ID, she no fit check in.

I dey reason—if na my mama, she go say "carry your sister go inside, protect am." But this one na my oga for office. Confusion dey my face.

My mama always talk say, "No put mouth for woman matter wey pass your level." But see as I jam wahala now. Mrs. Halima just quiet for chair, then bite her lip, ask: "Kunle, your room na twin bed?"

She dey ask with hope, voice low. Rain dey beat window, the thing dey add drama.

I nod, look her, no sure.

I dey fear small—wetin if she no trust me? Wetin if office people hear?

She just grunt, siddon there, no talk.

She cross leg, dey look floor. Nobody dey talk. Even generator wey dey run before, don quiet.

I think small, talk: "Aunty Halima, make I give you my room, I go try book another one next door."

I dey try show say I get home training. Na Naija we dey—woman wey senior you, you suppose respect am.

She look me, eye soft small: "You sure?"

Her eye dey shine small. For once, she no dey form ice queen.

I talk: "I go try. If I no see, I go sleep for lobby or find place for security post."

I dey ready to rough am. Anything to make sure madam dey safe. My mama go proud.

So I carry her go my room, begin pack my load.

As I dey arrange bag, na so my mind dey run. I dey hope say no wahala go happen. I dey plan how I go explain if security ask me question.

Mrs. Halima, dey worry small, say: "You drink plenty, and rain dey fall. Abeg, drink tea before you go."

She dey care, even for stress. That kind gesture dey touch me. For Naija, tea fit cure hangover, so I no argue.

E make sense, so I brew the tea wey client give me, sit down with Mrs. Halima, dey sip am.

The aroma sweet, ginger dey inside. As rain dey fall, tea dey enter body well. We both just quiet, dey sip, dey hear thunder.

Mrs. Halima start to talk work, then family. As she dey talk, she use back of hand clean eye—clear say she get wahala with husband.

Her voice dey shake small. She dey yarn as if she dey talk to old friend. She dey try hide pain, but I fit notice.

I talk: "Aunty Halima, your husband na oga for listed company. Na big thing."

I dey try lighten mood, make she smile small. But e be like say I remind am of her problem.

Mrs. Halima face change: "Na one of the founders, but na the lazy one."

Her voice cut. She shake head, dey look window. I just quiet—no wan make matter worse.

I don drink too much—my belle dey turn, head dey heavy. I slump for chair, dey hear her like lullaby, sleep carry me. After that, I no remember anything.

Na so my own end. I try listen, but before I know, sleep don kidnap me. Rain dey fall, thunder dey bless everywhere. Peace enter my soul.

Morning, I wake up, see Aunty Halima dey my side for bed.

I open eye, first thing I see na her face. Light from window dey shine on her, hair scatter small, she resemble actress for film.

She lie for her side, dey look me, hair cover half her face, she fine well.

She dey smile small. Her eye calm, not like before. For that moment, world dey peaceful.

Our eye jam, nobody talk for small time.

We dey look each other, na silence fill the room. I dey try remember if I do anyhow, but brain blank.

Finally, Mrs. Halima threaten: "Kunle, if you talk wetin happen last night, I go tear your mouth."

She talk am with that her mama voice—serious but playful. I quick clear throat, dey form innocent.

I reply quick: "I no fit talk am. I no dey craze."

I dey swear for myself, make she know say I no be talkative.

Mrs. Halima hiss: "You dey tell Morayo everything. You no fit keep mouth."

Her hiss na warning, but her face dey shine small. I dey happy say she dey joke.

Even though na twin bed, the bed dem close, e come dey awkward.

We dey lie down like pikin wey sleep for grandma house—everybody dey pretend say nothing happen.

I joke: "Sister, I behave well last night?"

I dey test water, see if I go chop slap. My heart dey beat.

Mrs. Halima roll eye: "You sleep like goat. Snore scatter, I no fit sleep."

She throw pillow give me. Her mouth sharp, but I know say e no pain her reach.

I tease: "You dey guard me, na why you no sleep."

I dey smile, dey hope say she go smile back.

Mrs. Halima glare: "Kunle, I warn you—maybe I too lazy go police post for paper, but if I need carry you go chief’s court, I no go think twice."

Her threat sharp. For my village, if chief summon you, your leg go shake. I just shift, dey avoid eye contact.

I shift from her sharp sharp.

I find another pillow, dey play. I dey try act busy, so she go leave my matter.

Mrs. Halima smile small, then wave me come: "Come, tell me true—me and Morayo, una just colleagues?"

Her smile soft. She dey look me like big sister dey look stubborn pikin.

I raise hand swear: "Nothing dey between me and Sister Morayo. Na she help me get work, nothing more. Just work matter."

I dey swear with all my mind. For Yoruba, once person raise hand, na true talk.

Mrs. Halima look me, half believe: "Sure?"

She dey size me up. Her eyebrow dey up, but her mouth dey curve small.

I nod: "I swear. If I dey lie, thunder go fire me."

I add small fear, make she trust me well. For Naija, thunder swear na the highest.

Mrs. Halima face relax. She look me, ask: "Kunle, for university, how many babes you get?"

She wan check my CV, dey see if I be player. I just weak.

I sigh: "Not even one. Four years undergrad, three years postgrad, all waste."

I dey form saint, but truth be say, I just no get luck with babes.

Mrs. Halima laugh: "Abeg, who go believe that one?"

Her laugh sweet, reach my bone. I join laugh, everywhere just soft.

That morning, we gist for bed small, chop rice together, then go house.

We pack bag, dey joke as we dey ready. She even dey tease me, "Kunle, you go marry sharp sharp o." We chop rice, drink tea, then head back Ibadan as rain don stop.

But as I dey pack my bag, I know say this secret go follow us reach Ibadan—and maybe e no go ever end.