Welcome party

The man she brought was a wealthy man from ihiala, his both parents were dead, he was loose with his money, The perfect Man. His name was Ossy and his body was as huge as his voice. Nkem’s people were very welcoming. Her village was a tiny one in a small town. There must be a welcoming party before the official introduction, Four of their maidens have brought rich men for marriage. Jukwa was among the four maidens along with Aham and Udo. That night while they were preparing for the celebration of the next day, Udo said she hoped Nkem’s man won the search, Nkem said she liked Onyia, jukwa’s man, and Jukwa hissed at her. Nkem wasn’t always angry with Jukwa, but in the last maidens dance, Jukwa pushed her to the ground unintentionally and everyone knew Nkem would revenge before she forgave Jukwa. When Jukwa brought that fine young man home Nkem knew she had to hasten the welcome party, the welcome party had to be for at least four men and she knew Udo and Aham were already previously engaged. When she immediately brought home a man, nobody was surprised, she went to the shrine too often the last few months.

The day of the welcome party was as bright as the mood, palm wine was flowing like water, The women were serving ofe onugbu straight from the pot, the men were spraying money, each one seemed like they wanted to outspray the other. Nkem’s waist was whining too close to Onyia. When even the kids were tired of dancing, Achi, the oldest man in the community took his stand and hailed the kinsmen, they replied with equal enthusiasm. It was time for the search, Achi described the item to search for, a huge white pebble attached to a red thread tied on a tree. The men looked confused and excited and when they heard the sound of the gong, each ran into the forest, Nkem’s voice still rang in Onyia’s head,

“it’s always on any tree beside the iroko, when you find it remember I’m the one that told you where it is. Go towards the iroko”

And that was what he did. He ran  as fast as he could towards the iroko, he could hear the others too, the sound of leaves crunching and twigs breaking and when he got there, he saw that stupid man there, whose head was too small for his body. He was holding the pebble and smiling, his small face was booming with pride. Onyia laughed and hit him on his back and said “well done” even though he didn’t mean it. Jukwa would be displeased. But when they got out Jukwa hugged him and they went home, he was ready for anything. When the women saw Ossy with the pebble, they started singing and dancing, one woman threw a bead of cowries on his neck. He didn’t see Nkem until he got home.

“Nne, I won the search”

Nkem turned her back and continued playing with the beads in her hands, she seemed annoyed. When he came back from bathing, he lay beside her. He appreciated that they gave them the same room. He wasn’t sure why Nkem was not exactly elated about his win. Just then, Nkem turned to kiss him, she knew him too well and soon enough, he was hard as a rock, she climbed onto him, maybe she was excited and had been pretending, he thought. They went two rounds before Nkem went out to wash, that usually meant it was all over, he slept like a baby.

Nkem hissed that she had to be awaken, she didn’t even hear when Anyasi came in, he was trying to pull Ossy out the door, the line on Ossy’s neck was visible even in the dark, when he saw Nkem awake, he threw her a small item and said, “How will you say it happened”. Nkem kissed her teeth and laid back on the bed.

What annoyed her most about this is that out of all this meat, she had to eat the penis.

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie  writes on on why no one reads fiction in Nigeria

 (Saturday February 19 2005, The Guardian)

 

 

I went home to Nigeria shortly after my novel Purple Hibiscus was shortlisted for the Orange prize. I was in the national news. There were commentaries in the newspapers on how I had represented my country well, how I had become a role model for young people, how I

had done Nigerians proud. Yet if my novel had been first published in Nigeria, none of this would have happened. I would have had to self-publish. I would not have had an editor or publicity or marketing. The newspapers would have taken scant notice, if at all, perhaps running a summary on a review page. I would not have been entered for the Orange prize and, most of all, I would expect only family and friends to buy the novel because we are a country of people who do

not regard and do not read literature.

 

Many Nigerians say the reason for this is obvious: the economy. We are too poor to read. Literature is, after all, a middle-class preserve and since our middle class is being economically eroded, reading has been put aside for the pursuit of basic survival. University lecturers, for example, who were firmly middle- class 40 years ago, now straddle the line between middle and working-class conditions. They are often owed arrears of salaries and the salaries themselves are so insufficient that many turn to force-selling pamphlets to their students. In addition, electricity is erratic all over the country, fuel prices – and food prices – keep rising, running

water is a luxury and the roads are full of pot-holes. Life is precarious and harsh; it is reasonable then to expect that reading would become an irrelevance.

 

Yet books sell well in Nigeria. In all the bookshops I have visited, the shelves are overwhelmingly stocked with Christian and business self-help books, God’s

Plan for You, The Richest Man in Babylon. This suggests, then, that our economy has not prevented us from reading; it has only prevented us from reading literature. The real reason for this may not be the economy itself, however, but what we have turned to in response to the economy: a scarcity-driven brand of religion where pastors in sleek churches assure you

that God wants you to have that new Mercedes-Benz.

 

Islam, a stronger force in Nigeria than Christianity, has had its own scarcity-driven mutations, but

Christian religiosity exploded in the early 1990s, when Nigeria was passed from one dictator to the other, amid the trauma of an annulled democratic election. Things had never been so bad and, in the face of a brutal government and an effete civil society, Nigerians turned to a new brand of Christianity. It was vibrant; it was intensely focused on material progress, with pastors quoting scripture that portrayed wealth as a spiritual virtue; and it was loud. People were required to talk up God all the time. Government officials were required to be publicly holy, as if this would assuage their corruption. So my former state governor, who did not pay teachers’ salaries, held public prayer meetings every week. Fraudsters gave interviews where they

attributed their wealth to God. Our remarkably unpopular president said he was chosen by God.

Religion has become our answer to a failed economy; “My God is a rich God” and “Only God can save Nigeria” are popular expressions.

 

Christian and business self-help books sell, then, because they sustain the status quo: the former affirm that God wants you to make money while the latter teach you how to go about it. They are disquieting in their obviousness and seem informed by a rudimentary

utilitarianism: what practical and immediate 

benefit will I get from this book? Even the fiction

and poetry used as textbooks are approached in the

same way: students read them alongside pamphlets such

as  Sample Questions and Answers and they are only a

means of making up the required subjects for O-levels.

There is no room for real literature and perhaps this

is why there seems to be no room for subtlety in

Nigerian public life. Because we are not literary, we

are too literal. Because our religiosity is

individualistic, we have neglected social

consciousness.

 

And we have lost a sense of nuance, from the brashly self-aggrandising public letters our president writes to his detractors to the way a university student told me: “The title of your book is confusing. A book with that title should be about a flower.”

 

Of course religion cannot be the only reason we do not read literature; there are other reasons as complex as our society. But religion is central. If our economy were to improve dramatically, our focus on scarcity would reduce, and so would our participation in the

God-give-me-money religion of desperation. The monopoly of religious and business books would be broken and publishers would take on fiction. At present, they are willing to publish and re-publish only literature used as textbooks since the market exists by necessity. General fiction has to fall back on vanity publishing – as I would have had to for  Purple Hibiscus – because it constitutes a high-risk venture. Foreign-published books don’t fare much better. In Bookworm, a highbrow Lagos bookshop, there were novels by Moses Isegawa, Ian McEwan, Arundhati Roy. The owner was about to have a give-away sale when I visited. “Nobody buys them,” she said. The fiction titles that sell to her upwardly mobile clientele are those by John Grisham; even the elite does not read serious literature. She did hope to sell a fair amount of the Nigerian edition of  Purple Hibiscus, just published by Farafina in Lagos. My publisher, Muhtar Bakare, a former banker, an idealist, a believer in literature, is selling each copy for 500 naira in a

country where glossy monthly magazines cost 1,000 naira. It is his gamble on reviving literature. We are not a nation of people who do not care for literature, he thinks, but one of enervated literary enthusiasts waiting to be jolted into reading again. Until our economy improves, his approach will be to make literature so affordable that the middle-class will

buy it in addition to books like  The Jesus Path to Making Millions .

 

The other day, at the Nigerian Television Authority studio where I did an interview, a woman in her early 20s came up to me and said, “Oh, you’re Chimamanda. I really liked your book but I didn’t like the ending. I have never finished a novel before. Now I want to read

another novel.”

My father.

i had just come back from school and was trying a conference call with a couple of my friends but the sound of dora the explorer blaring from the tv downstairs was unbearable and ran down the stairs to tell my mum to tune it down but as usual she started to sing along to act like she didn’t hear just then the episode ended and i jumped for joy.

“Guess whats next”,she suddenly shouted back.

“Barney!”,my two siblings mama and fayo who were 5 and 3 exclaimed.

“Arrgh!”,and just i was about to protest the gate opened and my dads mercedes cruised in.

We jumped up and watched through the living room window and i went to open the door and gave him a peck on his dirty cheek.he gave a half smile as fayo and mama jumped on him and covered his face with kisses. he laughed to put them down, mum had been staring from a distance and i knew she noticed that something was wrong, i noticed it too, finally she came over and gave him a deep hug then she instructed me to set the table for dinner while she followed him upstairs. Been me i waited till i heard the door to their room shut and i tiptoed up the stairs and put my ear to the door.

My eyes widened with disbelief when the conversation got deeper and he finally said what i feared the story was leading to.

“so i killed him,i killed him but i swear i didn’t mean it, it just…”,my mum was getting up and the sound of the movement startled me and i quickly ran down the stairs.

The men that came two hours later didn’t really surprise me, they weren’t cops but that didn’t surprise me either. I locked my siblings up in their room and pretended not to see that they dragged him by his belt.

I never made that conference call, mama and fayo are the same age i was when we last saw our father.

We have a Step-father.

Chapter 4.

Loosing myself…the end of nothing!!

When a text came in my phone that I had passed my unified tertiary matriculation exam, I couldn’t even smile. The thought of my dad in the hospital looking as feeble as ever broke my heart. I had seen him the previous day, I was sure he tried his best to look strong but even then I barely could recognize him. His hands looked shriveled and all his veins stuck out, I had looked at the drip all through not just because I couldn’t bear to look at his face but because I was begging every drop to save his life. He looked very pale. His colour had somewhat faded. I couldn’t unsee him like that, the image of him struggling to laugh and breathe at the same time clouded my mind. My throat was aching with tears unshed. At least I could cry openly. Once when bobo came in to comfort me, I shook him away, I felt so guilty, even more guilty that they were comforting me for the wrong things. I had stopped picking lanre’s calls a long time ago, he was the cause of the major part of my problem, I didn’t want this, I didn’t want to be a mother at this age. Abortion was ringing in my head. It was the only option. There was no way I was going to keep this pregnancy, and there was definitely no way I was going to tell my parents. The thought of running away had totally erased from my head. Where was I going to run to?. Into the hands of men who are ready to rape me till I died?. A familiar urge came to me. I rushed to the bathroom. After I cleaned myself up, I cried some more, my eyes were usually bulgy these days and I couldn’t remember when last I looked at the mirror but today as I stood in front on my mirror, I realized dat I had increased in size. I fell to my bed and cried. It was no surprise that mum didn’t notice. She didn’t even have time for herself, she was either gathering money for hospital bills or in the hospital with dad. Somehow I wished she noticed, I wished she would call me one day and ask “are u pregnant?”. At least that way I would be sure that she knew that I was capable of having sex. I couldn’t even bring myself to see dad at the hospital. I always wished I could turn back the hands of time but I never wished for it as strongly as now.

I looked at my watch.

17:45, 24th of July.

I heard a knock, a soft knock on the door.

“Yes?”

It was ekene, my nerdy brother.

“Would you like to eat something?”

“No”

“I’m bringing something anyway”, he said smilingly.

He shut the door. How could he even smile, with all these things goi… I stopped myself, I realized that the only thing he should be worried about was my dad. I was in this alone, nobody knew about it, and nobody was going to know.

I heard a knock again.

“Come in”

He knocked again.

“Come in!”

“It isn’t much but it’s still food”, he said as he came in with a tray of food, two sachets of pure water.

“We’re going to eat together, it’s been so long”.

It was fried plantain and egg, most of the plantain were burnt.

“Guess who fried the plantain?”, he asked.

“Bobo”, I answered almost immediately.

He laughed, a hearty laughter. I couldn’t help but join him.

He continued laughing when he realized he made me laugh.

We laughed for sometime. Then we continued eating. It was when we stopped laughing that I actually realized that it had been so long that I had laughed. So long that the echoes of my laughter in my head seemed so strange. Even my voice seemed strange. It sounded deeper, croaky, like I had just woken up from sleep.

“You seem withdrawn nowadays,you’re always not yourself”.

“It’s because of dad”.

“That’s a lie”

“How do you know?”

“Because u answered too fast, is your jamb result out?”

“No, not yet”

The plantain in my fork fell off.

“Hmm”, he replied.

“I’m very sure results are out, go check yours”, he continued.

“Ok”, I simply said, I wasn’t in the mood to talk much, I wondered why the food was taking so long to finish.

“I’m full”, I finally exclaimed, taking a sachet of water.

“Ok, me too”, he said.

I was happy with his reply, he packed up the tray and left.

My phone was vibrating. I realized I was sitting on it.

Mum

“Hello”

Mum never asked hello?

She always said hello, she sounded calm.

“Yes mum?”

She asked how I was, how everyone was and asked me to give the phone to ekene, his phone was switched off, I opened my door and shouted “kene!”. The house seemed quiet.

“Yeees?”, he suddenly shouted running up the stairs.

“What’s wrong?”,he asked.

“Mum is on the phone”,he was panting like he had been running,he collected the phone from me and we entered my room.

They talked for about thirty minutes where ekene said things like “I think we should go with the doctor” and “yea, next week”.

I think they were deciding surgery date for my dad at the hospital.

He gave me the phone. He looked expressionless. He closed the door softly behind him without saying a word.

Why was everyone trying to make less noise.

I unlocked my phone and started to play a candy game while listening to songs on my phone. I put my volume on the highest, I expected one of my brothers to open the door and say “shush”. Nobody came.

20:16, 24th of July

I fell asleep.

2:03, 25th of July.

The time when witches and vampires roamed the earth. I had always hated waking up by this time, a childhood friend had told me that if u did u had a connection with the underworld.

I cried.

I was scared.

And it wasn’t because of witches or vampires.

I didn’t know when I slept off but the day seemed bright when I woke up.

9:24, 25th of July.

I realized how quiet the house was. I opened my door and Walked down the hall and down the stairs.

All my brothers were at the dinning table, in the kitchen, they seemed tense.

It had been long I saw jojo..he was tapping his feet on the ground as usual, his face seemed more mature, thinner.

They didn’t look up as I walked in.

“Jo boy what’s up?”, I said breaking the silence( apart from the feet tapping sound ).

He looked up and put up his hand in response with a half smile on his face.

Do they know?

Have they found out?

I touched my stomach, was it visible?.

Then jojo said, “I hate waiting, I hate it, let’s just all go to the hospital”

“Ok”, bobo whispered.

They all stood up slowly jojo, bobo and then ekene.

Then it hit me, today was dad’s surgery day.

I felt like hitting my head.

“Are u coming?”, I heard bobo whisper to me.

I shook my head.

I watched them leave.

I had other plans.

I went back to my room, i felt my head turning hot.

I went back up to my room, laid on my bed.

13:58, 25th of July.

Ouch!. My head hurt. When I looked at my watch i was shocked. I reached for my phone from under the pillow.

8 missed calls.

28 texts messages.

All the calls I missed where from Lanre, I opened my inbox, 17 texts from Lanre the last one was “Please just talk to me”. I didn’t bother to open it, others were from school friends both excited and sad from utme results, a few from the network service and then one from mum.

Remember to pray for your dad. Hope you’re ok.

I cried.

Went down to the kitchen. It was surprisingly spotless. I opened the fridge and took a cucumber, washed it and ate but I hadn’t taken more than three bites before I quit. I popped a cube of sugar in mouth, went to the sitting room and put on the tv.

Cable subscription had expired.

Sigh.

I looked around and felt hopelessly bored.

I tried not to think of what must be going on in the hospital but I couldn’t help myself.

Soon I was screaming and tearing the hair off my head. I didn’t know what possessed me then, I just knew I wasn’t thinking straight, I headed straight to the kitchen and picked up a knife, the new one mum bought the precious month and went up to my room. I wasn’t thinking, I was acting faster than I was thinking. I felt more energetic than I had ever felt. Is this what possession felt like?.

Before I could even make out anything, I had shoved the knife into me three times with all the strength I had , the kind of strength I use to cross the finish line of the 200 meter race I represented the school in, the kind of strength I had used to punch temi in the face after her and her friends beat me to near unconsciousness. In fact it was nothing compared to those. I lay there for forever. It felt unreal, I felt dizzy.

Then I heard the gate open. Immediately I heard the sound of the metal gate, all the pain came in a rush, it was like tiny needles, and it felt somewhat cold, I pulled out the knife and I could feel the blood pump out of me. It wasn’t gushing like a tap, it was pumping out. The pain was indescribable. I heard the door open and some screaming. Thank God someone had found me.

But it wasn’t my room door that opened. It was downstairs, there was crying, I could hear my mothers voice distinctively. It didn’t take me a second to realize that my dad was dead, I started to feel stupid and started to cry loudly, but every movement even in my face ached, I had tried to look over and see the extent of my injuries but I couldn’t. I just lay there and shut my eyes. I felt myself drift. I couldn’t feel any blood coming out again but I knew it probably was. I didn’t see any bright light or a narrow road, In fact I didn’t expect to see one, but I didn’t see demons or a wide road either. I didn’t see anything, it felt worse that I was kept on suspense until I died finally. I felt a noise beside me, sounded like gunshots , I could still hear the crying, all the noise I heard was amplified and It was coming closer, I realized the noise I heard wasn’t beside me, it was a knock on my door, someone was probably coming to tell me the news, my head felt light. Very light.

I kept myself focused, it was like I was loosing myself, I concentrated on the noise.

My eyes were still shut tight.

I heard the knob open.

A scream.

It was my mums voice.

Or was it aunt Lara?

I never found out.
Dear readers,

Phoebe was never pregnant but she never found out.

Chapter 3

Facing fears. I remembered reading a book about a girl that thought she was pregnant and later found out it was appendicitis. It gave me hope. Mum had already started to notice my fatigue. I continued my pretense but I knew I couldn’t keep it up any longer. I decided I was going to take a test.

How?

I had no clue on how to check whether I was pregnant or not.

Was I supposed to go to the hospital?.

I knew people took home tests but how was I meant to do it?

What was I supposed to get to do it?

Was it expensive?

Could I get it in a supermarket?

I wasn’t ready to go and disgrace myself or have people looking at me with huge eyeballs and eyelids raised.

What book was that anyway?

I thought of telling Lanre. 

I wished this was all a dream, after all it seemed like one. The power went out. I sighed.

I went to my window and looked out, my view was of a store opposite our house and a little part of the street, the store was locked. 

7:54pm

Lanre had called me every other day, I never picked. I wasn’t ready to tell him. I wasn’t sure how his reaction was going to be. I was never going to tell, I was scared that he was going to deny responsibility and I was even more scared that he was going to accept it, it would ruin him, I thought about his parents, his ever smiling mum and his ever-frowning dad that was never around, how they would react, how they would look at me, I was already imagining it and I felt myself melt.

I went to go have my bath, I almost slipped, I wished I did.

I think I heard my door open then, I waited and listened.

Nothing.

I thought again.

Maybe I would have a miscarriage.

Miscarriage!.

That was true, I could get a miscarriage.

I heard the door shut,I listened again and heard nothing.

Maybe my mind was playing with me. In the middle of my bath I heard a noise in my room, I quickly came out of the bath all soapy with my eyes closed and bolted the door. As I was stepping back in I hit my right leg on the edge of the bath, I raised it higher and stepped in. The leg hurt and I cursed slightly. 

I came out of the bathroom moments later shivering, I didn’t dry myself because I always waited for the water to dry on it’s own. My large blue towel was tried around my chest. I opened my wardrobe and searched for my nightgown, it was almost as if someone was watching me but when I looked round the bedroom I was certain there was no one even though it was too dark to see clearly. I searched but I couldn’t find the night wear. I went over to my bed and felt for my phone but I couldn’t find it. I reached out under my bed to check if my black torch was still there, I found it almost immediately, turned it on and gasped.

 Right next to my bookshelf I saw shoes and a leg and I traced it upwards and met a full human body resting on the shelf, he was few inches shorter than it and even though it was dark I could see that he was staring at me.

I gasped. 

The torch fell off my hand and I heard it break. It was dark again.

I was startled when the figure bent with his hands on his knees and started to laugh. It was then I started to recognize him.

“U mean u didn’t see me all this while?”, he asked.

“No!”, I whispered, “what are u doing here?”.

“But u looked straight at me immediately u came out”.

“I did?”

“Yea!”

“Shush, keep ur voice down, why didn’t u move though”.

“Of course I did, I even motioned for u to keep calm”.

“I don’t believe u”.

“I’m not arguing”.

“So, why and how did u get here?”

“I’ve been standing outside the gate waiting for someone to leave it open for a sec and then I sneaked in”,he paused and then said”I missed you”.

I just stared at him 

“Say something”

“I have nothing to say”

“Ok”

He had already walked up to me while we were talking and I could feel his breath up in my face. He smelled of alcohol.

“Did u drink”

“I took a few, I’m not drunk though”

“Ok”, I started to bend to pick up pieces of the cheap plastic torch. I reached around to search for the lens.

He bent and picked it just near his feet and when I stood up to take it from him he drew closer to me. I had already seen this coming, what I hadn’t seen was my heart beating as hard as ever. He kissed me and put his left hand on my waist, he lifted his right hand up to where my chest where I had tied a knot with my towel. I stopped him. I held my two hands firmly to the knot. He had stopped kissing me and when he tried again I turned to the side of my face. 

“Go home.”, I said.

He chuckled and then kissed me on my cheek. He then reached under my towel and placed his hands on my butt.

I reached out and took his hands off.

“Why are you doing this”,he said 

Was he crying?, he sounded like he was crying.

“You know I love you more than any..”, his voice broke.

Oh no!..he was crying. 

“I’m sorry”, I said reaching out to his cheeks. 

He held me tightly and continued sobbing.

Then he kissed me. I didn’t withdraw.

He pulled out the knot and moved backward leading me to my bed.

He fell backwards and my towel dropped. 

The moment I was completely naked I started to feel stupid. 

“Get out”, I said softly.

“Huh?”.

His hands were already on my breasts circling my nipples.

He kissed me on my neck again and for a moment there I felt like letting him.

I jumped out of bed and picked up my towel. 

I can’t believe this, what was I doing?, how did I gather so much courage.

“Lanre get out”, I said firmly. 

“What?!”, he was still laying with his elbows supporting him and he looked up with questioning brows on his face.

It was then I noticed that he had open his trouser zip and his penis was sticking out, i felt disgusted.

“Go home or I’ll call my brothers, they won’t find it funny so get out”, my voice was wavering, along with my courage. 

I pointed towards my door.

“You’re such a bitch, why are u making this so difficult, you know u want this, come on”.

I couldn’t believe my ears for a minute. Was he drunk?.

“The only thing I want is for you to get out”.

“You want other guys but you don’t want me”.

“What are u saying, you’re the only guy I’ve slept with and you know it”

He laughed.

“Some hoes don’t just admit that they are hoes”

He’s playing with my mind, why was I even arguing?

He had stood up but still wasn’t zipped. 

“Get out”, I raised my voice a little higher. 

He looked at me for a moment and walked towards the door. 

“Bitch”, he said and left. 

I stood there for about twenty minutes recounting what had just happened. I couldn’t believe I had enough courage to get him out. I wondered how he would leave. Whether any of my brothers would catch him.

I had the urge to pray. I went on my knees and then I remembered what happened on that fateful day. God was definitely angry with me. I was scared. My mind had automatically started to talk to God. I forced myself to push the thought away. I tried to concentrate on something else.

I fell on my bed and cried.

Chapter 2

Lagoon jumper.   My heart flew out of my chest when mum came back from the gym three mornings after that day and told me how iya tobi had withdrawn her child from unilag and put him in a private school whose name she couldn’t remember. And how she had recommended that private university for me. 

“Which iya tobi?”, I asked cutting in.

“Which other iya tobi do you know?”.

“Answering a question with a question”,I said accusingly.

She bent her head slightly, eyed me and then said,

“Your friends mum”, she said.

“Which friend?”

She looked at me again and she replied.

“Lanre”

“How did she do all these things when she’s dying in the hospital”.

“Do you even know who I’m talking about?”

“Forget it”, I muttered.

My mum started to say something but my mind had started to wander off.

Lanres mum wasn’t sick.

He lied to me.

Why?,I asked myself.

I avoided admitting the obvious.

When my parents left for work that day I took my time to think about what happened that day.

It was the first time I actually allowed myself to think about that day.

Lanre’s lie had sparked a suspicion.

Then a word came to my mind.

Protection.

I could hear my heart pounding in my chest.

I felt my head turn hot.

I touched my tummy.

It felt the same..

I picked up my phone.

4 missed calls.

Lanre.

Did he just realize it too?.

I dropped it and picked it up again.

I dialed Lanre.

The caller tunes was saying something about having all it takes to be better.

“Hello?”,his voice always seemed clearer on phone.

I thought about the first time he talked to me,the little version of him, how he had started telling me stories about his big brother the moment mum left us to play together and how he…

“Helloo?,he said again bringing me back to earth. It was then I realized that he had been saying hello for some time now.

“Stupid network”, he said and then hung up.

I slapped myself.

I dialed again

This time I talked first.

“Hey,whatsup?”,I said trying to sound neutral.

“I’m fine,how are u?”.

He stressed the”how are u”.

He probably just realized it too. He sounded tense.

“I’m ok…why?”,I asked.

“Nothing”.

I think he sighed.

” I love you”,he added.

“Me too”,I said.

“Say it”.

“What?”.

“Say it, say it out”.

“Say what out?”,I asked feigning ignorance.

“Say you love me”,he said sounding desperate.

I didn’t know whether I was in love with him,but I did love him, after all he was my best friend, so I said it anyway.

“I love you”.

I think he sighed again.

There was an awkward silence for sometime then I said.

“I’ll talk to you later”

“Ok, take care”.

I hung up.

Your last call cost #160.43 and account balance is…

I hissed.

I was amused.

Amused that I had said “I love you” to a guy.

I said it again to my self. It sounded funny.

I smiled.

It was exactly two weeks after that day,on Thursday 3rd of July, that I started vomiting, that morning I felt so weak that I thought I would faint, I tried my best to look me. Nobody noticed except kamso,my elder brother, he said it casually, I was grateful mum didn’t notice.

“You look sick”,he had said.

“Are u sure you slept well?”

“Yup”, I said trying to sound gay.

When they all left, mummy, daddy, jojo, ekene and bobo.

I went to my room.

Knelt down and cried.

I was confused.

I cried and cried till my eyes were swollen and red.

I thought about my parents, thought about how people would think that mum had failed in bringing up her only girl. Just one girl. Unlike other mums, mum had taught me every bit of the “birds and the bees” talk. She had never been shy about it.

“I trust you,you won’t disgrace me”, I remember her say.

The “I trust you” rang in my head several times.

I felt like I was in a movie. 

I felt myself watching myself.

I cried some more.

I thought about what to do.

I thought about telling Lanre.

I couldn’t bring myself to tell him.

I didn’t know why.

I thought about telling mum and dad.

I was going to tell them, I decided.

I wondered what they would think and how they would react.

I remembered to cry again.

I decided that I was going to read their reaction.

If they were angry I was going to run away.

If they were disappointed, i was going to kill myself.

I thought about the end of me, just slipping out of this earth.

I thought about heaven and hell. If I died that way I was surely going to hell if it really existed.

If they were both angry and dissapointed, I’ll probably runaway and jump in a lagoon.

I laughed at the thought.

I cried some more and slept off.

I woke up later that afternoon. 

My eyes were glued with eye dirt.

I pried them open.

The beginning of the end

Chapter 1; I don’t know if seeing Rachael on my way to lanre’s house was a bad omen already. I tried waving but she turned her head away, her little brother excitedly shouted my name in his babyish manner”bibi…bibi!!!”. I smiled at him and then I think I heard Rachael tell him shut up…I smiled even more. I couldn’t believe that she could hold a grudge for over a month, I felt like slapping her.

I walked fast so they won’t have to slow down because of me. My mind wandered to Lanre. The other day I felt quite uncomfortable talking to him. And I couldn’t get my mind off him all weekend.Habit led me to push the huge black gate with semi abstract drawings open. He was always alone at this time of the day until about 11pm when his parents got back. Before I could get to the door of the house. He was out,

“Babe what’s up”, 

He said leading me inside the house. He never called me my name, he said he didn’t understand why phoebe was pronounced fibi. He was topless and wearing sweatpants at the bottom. I always admired his abs.

He led me upstairs, there was something about him today, he wasn’t his usual chatty self. When we got to his room I sat on his bed while he went to remove a cd from his DVD player. Then he stood one hand akimbo and the other with the remote changing the channel to African magic where they were doing a movie titled “mirror boy”. I watched him come to sit on the bed and stare at the tv blankly. 

“Is anything wrong?”, I asked. 

No reply. 

I asked again. 

Same. 

“Lanre!”, i said touching him on his leg, the sweatpants felt thick. 

“What?!”..he said almost in a gasp. “Nothing”, I said. 

He hissed. 

The kind of hiss that you do when someone is trying to wake u up from sleep or when u’re bored or when u’re trying to grumble or when u’re tired. I stared at him,moved close to him and asked loudly looking at him,

“Lanre what’s wrong”. 

He looked at me,he stared and stared. I could see tears welling up his eyes, “it’s my mum”, he said,” she’s not going to make it”

“What’s wrong with your mum?” 

“I don’t know”, he said now crying,”the doctor said she’s not going to make it “.

I didn’t want to ask too many questions. I had never seen a boy cry. Not even my nerdy brother studying medicine and surgery at university of ilorin. Not even James; the smallest and most bullied guy in my set. I didn’t know what to do. I put his head on my chest, stroking his full soft hair, I repeated “it’s ok” and “it’s going to be fine”. 

A short while later he placed his lips on mine and we ended up in a passionate kiss which I decided to put my all in at least as a consolation. Then he grabbed my breasts slowly, squeezed them lightly and continuously. My heart skipped a bit. I felt my nipples stiffen.

Pleasure.

I moaned.

It encouraged him of course, and he squeezed them even more. He pulled off my shirt and my bra. He slowly touched my bare breast. Waves of shock ran through my spine. This felt good. Then he carefully massaged them. The both of them.

I laid my hands on his chest.

I wanted to feel his body, his hard body. I moved my hand to his back and drew him closer to me. 

He removed my hand and using his hand as a cuff, he held me to the bed and slowly brought his lips to my nipples and bit them slightly. I felt like screaming. 

I wanted him to let go of my hands.

I felt like scratching something, like digging deep into his flesh. I pulled free and held his back again. I could feel sweat on his back, something I hadn’t noticed before. 

He pulled off his sweatpants, he was wearing nothing beneath. I felt his hardness. At that point I was desperate to guide his penis into me but he jerked away and instead put his face in me. I was shocked. I felt like pulling his head out but I wanted this. It felt better than using my hands or a pillow. I felt myself move forward and backward in a slow rhythm. I put my legs on his back and was about slipping into this world of fantasy wen he came out and quickly lifted my left leg…and using his hand as an aid he drove in. I was speechless. I didn’t even have a chance to resist . To decide that I wanted to remain a virgin. I let out a silent scream. It felt like I was being stabbed. I was thinking of anything more painful. Each time he pushed in and pulled out I had died and risen. Tears welled up in my eyes. I started to mutter “stop…stop”. But he didn’t listen, I kept sinking my hips into the bed but it wasn’t helping. I realized I was pushing him away, he didn’t even seem to notice my presence. Few moments later, he started to go fast. I just did what I did when I was admitted in the hospital for pneumonia and I had to receive painful injections, I just lay there and let the work be done.i didn’t scream. I didn’t cry, because I knew it was going to pass. Soon enough he let out a shout in his deep voice.

It sounded like a shout of relief.

I felt a hot liquid flow in me.

He then fell to my side on the bed.

He was smiling and touching his hair.

“Babe,you’re the best,I swear”. I didn’t move a muscle. Tears were already dried on my cheeks. He lay on his chest, put his palm on my right breasts caressing it slowly and soon I heard him snoring. I didn’t move. I still forced myself not to think about what happened now. I felt my throat 

tighten. I still felt as if he was still inside me. I shut my eyes close tightly, fighting back tears.

Why was I even crying?

He was my best friend.

He has always been there for me.

 The next time I opened my eyes I saw him coming out of his bathroom. I had slept off. It was a little dark outside.He was saying something…

“Huh?”, I asked.

“Was asking if you’ll have your bath”

“Oh…ok”

It was then I became conscious of my nakedness, I picked the towel on the bed and quietly strolled to the bathroom. I felt his gaze on me. I locked the door when I entered. Even then, I forced myself not to think. I stepped in the bath and put on” the shower. When I came out, the bed sheets were gone, he wasn’t in the room. I hurriedly dressed up and then I looked at the watch on his table.

7:39.

I ran downstairs,at the edge of the stairs we almost bumped into each other. “Heyy…easy,are u going home now?”

“Yea”,I said

“Uhm ok let me grab a shirt and walk you”. He was wearing different sweat pants.

I wanted to say no but I didn’t.

He came almost immediately with a shirt that he slipped on with ease.

It was a white t-shirt with little stars on the front.

We walked quietly down the road until I got to my house. Then he bent down to kiss me,I moved my face away.

“Are u crazy?”

He laughed and said “I love you”.

My heart skipped a bit.

I didn’t know what to say so I just smiled and looked nervously around. He smiled and started to walk back.

i watched him walk back, he turned to look at me a number of times and almost hit a fat woman coming in the opposite direction. She eyed him. I pushed open my gate smiling then I stopped myself abruptly. I wasn’t sure whether to be happy or sad.

Hey guys,

I must be the laziest writer in the world, your encouragement will go a long way in helping me finish this story and a lot of stories in my head that I’ll like to share.

Lots of love.