Chapter 2: Heartbreak, Exposure, and Cold Reality

When Farouk sneak enter, I close eye, pretend say I dey sleep. He just lie down gently, wrap me for arm.

His body dey hot small. The way he breathe steady, I know say e try calm himself. For Naija, na rare thing for man to beg woman, but today, he really try.

Last last, he give me one soft goodnight kiss for forehead, then sleep well as he dey hold me.

The kiss soft, but e no enter my body. E just be like cold breeze.

But me, sleep no even near my eye.

My brain dey run marathon. I dey count ceiling board, dey hear generator sound for distance. Na so heartbreak dey be.

I free myself from his hand, waka go study, open red wine, begin drink am anyhow.

I pour the wine like say na palmwine, but the bitterness pass my pain. The first sip burn my throat, but I no stop. I just dey pour the wine like say na water. Na so Naija woman dey drown sorrow.

Because I old pass am, because I easy, na so dem see me finish, use me practice?

The pain dey cut me. In this place, woman wey dey love small boy dey get insult. But na today I feel am deep.

Amina, how you let your life reach this level?

I dey talk to myself. My papa voice dey my ear: 'Amina, shine your eye.' But eye don blind.

Tears blur my eye. I no even know how much I drink. As I stagger go bathroom, I fall for ground.

My hip jam cold tile—if no be God, I for break bone. My body just give way. I hear the sound as my hip meet tile. For our side, person fit break bone if e no careful. I just dey pray make nothing spoil.

Farouk wake up, no see me for bed, him eye sharp immediately.

The way e rush come out, e no even wear slippers. If na before, I go laugh, but now, I just dey look.

“Sister, why you no call me when you wake?”

His voice dey shake. Maybe small guilt dey bite am.

As he smell alcohol, he jump get up.

The smell strong. For our place, woman no dey drink anyhow, especially when wahala dey house.

“Chai! Amina, you dey craze? You dey drink when you dey your period?”

He only dey call my full name when he vex well. But I no even want answer, just dey slur, push am.

I just dey form big girl, but inside me, na small pikin dey cry.

“No touch me.”

My voice weak, but I no gree make am hold me. If na before, I for hold am beg for comfort.

He touch my forehead, see say e hot, so he calm down.

His palm cold for my skin. For that moment, e act like person wey still care.

“Abeg no do like this. Make we go chemist.”

The word 'chemist' make my brain clear small. For Naija, once body dey hot, na chemist be first option before hospital.

My body weak, mind dey turn. As I hear ‘chemist’, I quick sober small.

The thought of injection dey fear me. But I no get strength to fight.

“No need chemist. If I rest, I go fine. Abeg leave me.”

I beg am, my voice low, but I sabi say e no go listen.

He just laugh, vex, carry me with coat, drive straight go health centre, register, draw blood—everything sharp.

Na so e dey always do—if I stubborn, he go force me. For our side, woman wey get man wey dey care dey lucky. But today, e no sweet me.

Before I know, nurse don dey call my number.

The waiting room cold. The wall paint dey peel, smell of disinfectant full everywhere. I dey try gather myself.

“Patient 17, Amina, abeg come inside.”

Nurse voice dey loud, everybody for waiting room hear.

“Number 17, Amina, you dey?”

Dem call my name like say I win lottery. Everybody dey look my face.

The broadcast dey call my name steady.

I feel like make ground open swallow me. Shame dey my face. I just dey drag leg.

Farouk half beg, half force me reach door. I dey drag leg, no wan enter.

His hand hold my elbow soft soft. Even though I vex, small part of me still remember when e dey pet me like baby.

As we dey struggle, one lively voice just enter.

Na high heel dey announce her before she enter. She wear mini-skirt, eyelash long like broom, perfume strong reach next street. The perfume strong—designer something.

“Brother Farouk, una…”

The voice high, girlish. I know am before I even see the face. Na Morayo, the 'real babe'.

As Farouk hear the voice, he quick leave me, rush go meet the girl, dey check her up and down.

He forget me sharp, as if I be ghost. The way e dey look Morayo, e fit melt sugar.

“Wetin happen? Why you dey alone? Who allow you wear small cloth?”

His tone change. From sweet to protective—like elder brother or lover. I dey wonder which one e be.

Morayo pout mouth, cover face, stamp foot.

She dey do like small pikin wey dem deny biscuit. Her lipstick even stain finger.

“Na hormone wahala. Doctor talk say make I find boyfriend, everything go set, unlike some people…”

She look me from head to toe, eyebrow high. I feel small, like say I dey wear second-hand.

As she talk, she look me somehow. Farouk just knack her head small.

He smile, dey try form big brother, but I fit see say him eye dey shine.

“Wetin you dey think? She be my worker.”

He remove him coat, put am for her seat, then carry my own coat, cover her leg.

As Amina feel the harmattan breeze bite her arm, she remember how Farouk once use that coat cover her when cold dey catch am. Now, na Morayo dey enjoy the warmth. The thing pain me. My only coat na wetin I dey use manage this harmattan.

“No wear skirt wey pass knee again, you hear?”

He dey warn am, as if e get right. But me, he dey always push make I wear short cloth.

Morayo form vex.

She cross arm, hiss small. 'I no send you' dey her face.

“I just wan show small sexy. No be all boys dey like am?”

Her voice sweet, like TV presenter. But the pride dey her chest.

“Who tell you that rubbish? Wetin be sexy there? No let anybody see. I go carry you house.”

For Morayo, he dey form holy pass. For me, na different matter. The unfairness dey pain me.

From beginning to end, Farouk no even look my side.

I dey invisible. Just like broom for corner—only useful when person need am.

As I dey hear their talk, I just realize how I fool myself. Farouk always want make I dress sexy for party, even if I no dey comfortable.

All the old memories dey play for my head. How e go hype me for Instagram, dey show me off to friends. But deep inside, e never proud of me.

But he talk say na to make people envy am.

He like when people dey talk. But na only me dey pay the price.

But for the girl wey he love, he no wan make anybody see am at all.

For Morayo, he dey cover leg, dey hide am from world. For me, na open market.

Maybe na so e be—plaything and goddess get difference.

My chest dey heavy. I fit feel the difference like hot water.

I just purse my lips, waka enter nurse office. The nurse look my result, frown.

The nurse fat small, glasses dey her face. She read result, shake head. Her voice soft, but no pity inside.

“You get polycystic ovary syndrome. E go hard to carry belle natural. Now you don reach four weeks. You wan keep am or remove?”

The words slap me. PCOS—na big grammar, but I understand. For here, woman wey no fit born dey get wahala. My mind just dey race.

“Anything you decide, do am quick.”

I just nod. My voice dry. For my mind, I dey pray make God show me road.

As I come out, everywhere just black for my eye, I nearly faint. One nurse help me.

The corridor cold. Nurse grab my arm, give me water. 'Take am easy, sister,' she whisper. But easy no dey.

Because my body no too strong, health centre say make family person stay with me. I think am well, I no get choice, I call Farouk.

My pride no gree, but health centre law na law. Family must dey.

I call am tire, no answer. Last last, phone off.

The beep tire me. Even if I try again, e no go answer. I fit see am dey laugh with Morayo now.

After I rest for hours, dem allow me go house.

The sun don dey go down. Street dey empty. Okada no too plenty because of fuel wahala. I trek small.

Harmattan breeze dey blow, my body dey pain. My only coat, Farouk don carry give Morayo.

The cold chop my skin. I dey hug myself. My hand dey shake.

As I dey go house, na only nurse words dey my head. Whatever I wan do, I must do am quick.

The voice dey echo—'four weeks, decide quick.' My chest dey tight.

Two days—e suppose quick reach.

I count the hours, dey plan my escape. Makurdi dey call me.

As I open door—

The key dey heavy for my hand. I dey brace myself for anything.

Inside, everywhere dey laugh.

Na music dey play low, bottle of Orijin dey table, people dey toast.

“Kiss, kiss!”

Morayo dey push enter Farouk arm, her face dey shy, love dey shine for their eye.

Her giggle loud. She dey blush, dey form small girl. Farouk just dey smile like person wey win bet.

As I enter, everybody face just change.

Na so everywhere freeze. The air dey tight like puff-puff for fridge.

Farouk eye flash small, he pull me go side, wan explain.

He dey sweat small. I fit smell his fear.

“Sister, no be wetin you see. Na game we dey play—I dey help Morayo.”

His voice dey beg. I just dey look am, my mind blank.

I just nod weakly. I no fit know truth or lie again. I too tired, I just wan sleep.

I dey walk pass am, but my leg heavy. For my mind, I dey shout, but mouth lock.

As I wan enter, he stop me again, think small, then add:

He scratch head, voice low. I sabi say e dey try cover shame.

“Nobody sabi say we dey date. I tell dem say you be my hourly maid, just drop things then go.”

As he talk, as if he fear say I no go gree, he rush add,

His eye dey beg, but I see calculation for face.

“Dem dey talk too much. If dem hear, dem go tell family. When time reach, we go announce. I don book guest house for you.”

Na so life dey be. Person go dey form madam, next minute na guest house e dey enter.

I look up at am, pain dey my heart. So na now he wan pursue me? He no fit wait reach tomorrow?

My chest dey rise, fall. If not for pride, I for beg. But today, I just dey carry myself.

As I enter, I see say within one afternoon, all my things for house don clear, like say dem plan am, dey wait for person to return.

Na so dem dey do for this place. Once dem ready to throway you, dem no waste time.

No wahala, e even better for me.

I even dey thank God say I no see more shame. I fit carry my load waka, nobody go drag me.

I wan grab my documents go, but Morayo no gree. She stick tongue out playfully.

She dey form pikin, but her eye dey wicked. I dey wonder how Farouk no dey see am.

“Sister Amina, why you come? You miss work today, but I no go minus your pay. Just help us make hangover pepper soup.”

Her voice dey sweet, but na insult dey inside. I dey wonder when I turn housegirl for my own house.

I look back, shock, just meet Farouk pleading eyes.

He dey signal me, as if make I just help am cover shame.

“Morayo no sabi cook, she dey spoiled. I go count am as overtime for you.”

He dey beg with eyes, but for my mind, I don dey plan my exit.

Forget it. I close my eye—just for memory of that young man wey once show me love.

I fit smell pepper, onion. I no even know how I take enter kitchen. Maybe na reflex.

After he push me enter kitchen, I hear noise from next room.

The laugh dey loud, wall dey vibrate. I dey wish say my ear fit close.

Morayo dey complain.

Her voice high, like small goat wey dem dey chase.

“Why she go get overtime pay? She no even work today.”

Na money matter dey sweet her. For this side, everybody dey find way to chop.

Farouk dey pet her low low.

His voice soft, like person dey pet baby. If na me, e for shout.

“Small housekeeper, I know say na you sabi money pass. Sister Amina cheap pass anybody.”

Na so? The insult enter my ear. I just dey boil.

“You too dey worry, who be your housekeeper? Hey, leave me joor!”

Dem dey play like say nobody dey house. After small time, e be like say dem wan pass boundary. Farouk voice come low:

His voice drop. E dey try reason with am. But for me, e never reason anything.

“No, Morayo, nothing dey house. I no fit touch you—e no good for girls.”

So na for her, protection matter. For me, anything goes. My heart just dey break small small.

As I hear am, my head blank.

I dey numb. Everything just dey spin.

So he know. He know say no protection bad for girl. Then who I be? Just thirty-something woman wey dem dey use for practice?

For Naija, dem dey say 'When market spoil, dem go use am practice.' But I be human being, no be goods.

Dem play finish, come out. Morayo, with winner face, come kitchen.

She dey bounce, her face dey shine. Pride dey her walk.

“Sister Amina, make I carry am. Make I do am.”

Her tone sharp, like say she dey do me favour.

She whisper for my ear:

The whisper cold, full of venom. I never hear person insult me like that before.

“Old cargo, you dey peep? If you dey lonely, go find stick, abeg. You still get mind come here?”

I nearly drop knife. For our place, na small girl dey call elder 'old cargo'.

My eye wide. So she know everything.

So, na me be gist for town. My secret, my pain—e dey open for all.

As I dey think, she just pour hot pepper soup for my arm. The sharp smell of uziza and scent leaf fill my nose as the pepper scatter, my hand dey burn like I touch hot stove. The pain make me drop am.

The pepper burn scatter. My hand red, water dey my eye. Plate land ground—kpra!

Crash—the bowl break. Morayo shout.

Her scream loud, everybody rush come see wetin happen. I dey hold my hand, dey fight tears.

“Sister Amina, why you drop am?”

Her tone sharp, like say na me spoil her party. For this place, small thing fit cause big wahala.

Farouk rush enter, carry her hide behind, glare at me.

He dey protect am, dey eye me like enemy. The betrayal dey bite me.

“I tell you say Morayo no do anything. You insist make she carry am. You no get hand?”

So now, na me cause everything. For this life, woman fit suffer for another person mistake.

He vex, eye red, as if na me do bad thing. But na me burn, and Morayo dey cry for back.

Her tears fake, but Farouk no see am. Na me dey carry wahala.

“Brother Farouk, leave am, na my fault. I hear say old women dey act like mother-in-law.”

The insult no end. She dey push my patience reach wall.

Farouk look me, face show warning.

His lips thin, eyes dey flash. Like say e fit slap me.

“Sister Amina, know your place.”

So I be outsider now. I just sigh. For here, woman wey no get power na dust.

Na so? I look am, he no fit meet my eye.

His eye dey ground. I sabi say e dey shame, but e no go ever talk am.

“Apologize to Morayo, and everything end today.”

The words dey heavy. So na apology go wipe all my pain? I no fit.

Why I go apologize? My mind clean for this relationship.

For our side, apology na big thing. Person no dey give am anyhow. Me, I no get strength for fake 'sorry'.

I no wan drag matter. I carry my bag go. If I no go health centre, my hand fit spoil.

I dey limp, pain dey bite me, but pride dey push me.

“I talk make you apologize to Morayo, you no hear?”

He grab my burnt hand, push am for Morayo front. My belle hit corner, pain catch me.

The pain sharp, my eyes dark small. Na God save me say I no faint.

Morayo pretend stop am.

Her voice sweet, but na lie dey inside.

“Leave am, leave am. Hiss, nothing dey, my hand just red small.”

She dey form pity. Her eye dey shine with wicked joy.

“How e go be nothing? Make we go health centre first, settle am later.”

He carry her, no look back. I dey alone.

Farouk carry Morayo rush out, still cover her leg with coat.

The cold bite me. My own coat, my own love, now dey another person body.

As dem leave, na only him guys remain. The one wey dey talk rubbish for group come near me.

His cologne strong, his smile wicked. I dey fear, but I stand.

“Sister Amina, abi? Farouk talk say you dey lonely. He no fit satisfy you again. Make we try?”

His hand dey my waist. My stomach turn. Na so dem dey do woman wey dem don use finish.

“Your legs dey burst brain.”

Insult, plain and sharp. I no gree give am face.

I grit my teeth, stand, spit for him face.

My spit land well. He shock, step back. For our place, spit na big insult.

“If you no commot, I go call vigilante.”

My voice loud. Everybody hear. If anything happen, vigilante go show.

He vex, grab my neck hard.

His grip strong. I dey choke. For Naija, woman suppose scream, but my voice low.

“Why you dey form holy? We don see your sexy pictures.”

His voice rough, breath dey smell alcohol. I dey fear, but I no show am.

He kick me two times, vent him anger.

The pain sharp, my body weak. But my mind dey fight. For this place, woman must survive.

When I sure say all of them don go, my body just fall for ground, I calmly dial 112.

My finger dey shake, but I press number. I dey pray make dem pick. For Naija, ambulance no too fast, but hope dey.

“Emergency? I think say I dey miscarry.”

My voice low, but strong. I dey fight for myself. For the first time, I know say, even if love wound person, self-love fit save life. As I hold phone for hand, blood dey drip, but I swear—nobody go use me do practice again. If love no kill me, I go survive.