Chapter 6: Clean Slate

Before I sleep, I fill bathtub, wan wash myself clean.

Na so I dey pour dettol join water, dey hope say pain go wash commot. For this kind night, bathroom dey echo memory pass church.

But as I pull cloth, the bruises for my body still dey show.

Purple mark for thigh, small scratch for neck—e dey look like say fight happen. I dey ask myself, 'Why I let am reach like this?'

Memory of last night just dey come—him hot body press my own, him breath for my ear, the way e hold me.

I dey remember the way e call me 'baby,' the way e dey beg me relax. E sweet and e pain at the same time.

I shake my head, try forget everything.

But memory no dey obey. Every drop of water wey touch my skin na reminder.

I carry the roughest towel, scrub my skin over and over, no stop till my body red finish.

I dey use sponge like say na razor. My hand dey pain, but my mind no gree stop.

I dey try, even though I no sabi how, to clean away the pain wey dey my mind.

I dey whisper prayer, dey sing small worship song for mouth, dey hope say God go collect my wahala. I dey search for peace for bottom of bathtub.

At the end, na pain no let me sleep that night.

I roll for bed, dey count ceiling fan blade. Even as NEPA take light, my pain still dey shine.

As I expect, Segun no send message again.

My phone dey silent, no buzz, no beep. The space loud, the absence heavy.

Our six years habit of saying goodnight since we get phone don break.

I dey remember how every night e go send 'goodnight, Sade.' Now, only silence dey greet me.

No wahala.

I talk am for mouth, dey convince myself. Na new chapter, Sade, carry go.

E suppose happen one day.

I dey reason say, nothing dey last forever. Even water for well fit dry.

Let me start to dey forget from tonight.

I dey force smile for mirror, dey hype myself: 'You be strong woman, Sade.'

Na near morning sleep carry me, tired and weak.

Body finally surrender, I fade enter dream, eyes red, chest hollow.

Early next morning, as I still dey half sleep, I feel person kiss my forehead for dream.

The kiss soft, familiar. I dey smile small, dey think say na angel, before reality land me.