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Heir of Lies: I Loved Abuja’s Fake Prince / Chapter 3: Memory, Guilt, and Abuja Rain
Heir of Lies: I Loved Abuja’s Fake Prince

Heir of Lies: I Loved Abuja’s Fake Prince

Author: Holly Harris


Chapter 3: Memory, Guilt, and Abuja Rain

I waka home like zombie.

Leg heavy, eyes no dey see road again. I waka pass familiar corner, but nothing look the same. Keke men for junction dey hail, but I no answer. My heart dey beat anyhow, my head dey blank.

The words I hear just dey ring for my head.

Everything dey replay, every word loud for my skull. Na so pain dey remind person say e still dey alive.

“That girl no get sense, she deserve am.”

I hear am clearly—my name for their mouth. E pain me, but I dey swallow am like bitterleaf.

“Three years ago, Oga Ifeanyi lose bet, pretend say he be male escort for karaoke.”

The night wey we meet, I think say na fate. But e be say na bet dem dey play. My heart dey bleed, I dey curse myself.

“The women before her know say na game—na only she believe.”

Dem dey talk say I be mugu, say others sabi the game. Only me carry love for head like gala seller for traffic.

Too naïve.

True. I believe pass as I suppose. I trust too fast, think say my own go different.

No know say that ankara jacket with holes na latest designer.

I dey pity am for nothing. The holes for him jacket, I think say na poverty. I no know say na fashion, na designer. My eye dey pain me.

No know say the silver chain watch wey e wear anyhow na Richard Mille worth millions.

I dey clean the watch for am, dey save for repair. No know say e fit buy me two house for Gwarimpa. Na this life we dey so.

Just because he talk say e papa dey gamble, mama dey sick, I think say I see my own story inside am.

I connect my struggle with him own. The way he talk, I feel am for body. Now, I dey reason say maybe na script e dey read.

See that fine face like Nollywood actor, my heart just dey melt.

Every time he smile, I dey forget my sorrow. My belly dey sweet, my body dey pepper. I be like JJC for love.

But I no know say he dey reason everything.

All this time, na calculation he dey do. Ifeanyi sharp pass, but I dull, I fall for am.

Chai, see as I dey fall mugu. Who send me?

My own voice dey mock me, my heart dey ask me question wey I no fit answer. I dey laugh myself inside rain, cloth still dey drip.

I use my whole heart dey try change am.

I tell myself say love fit heal, say if I try, he go change. I dey pray for am, dey encourage am, even dey fast join.

Even help am find better work.

I dey drag am for interview, dey write CV, even beg my colleague for hospital say make dem help am.

As research assistant, I dey collect small salary, but I fit use two thousand buy correct suit for am.

My salary no big, but I dey squeeze for pocket, buy suit for am for market. I wan see am shine, make e feel important.

But for myself, I wear the same ankara jacket for three years.

I dey patch my own, sew am, iron am sharp. People dey tease me, but I no send. Na him happiness I dey reason.

He go always narrow eyes, smile anyhow.

Every time I do something, he go dey look me with those sly eyes, lips curved like say e dey plan something.

“Pretty madam dey treat me well, I go repay you.”

He go talk am like say e mean am. I go smile, my heart go dey jump. Na so I believe say better day dey come.

He go talk like that, then hug me, dey clingy.

His hugs dey tight, like say he dey hide from the world. Sometimes e go rest head for my lap, dey beg make I rub him hair. I go laugh, dey play with him ear.

Twenty years old boy, first time taste forbidden fruit, no wan stop again.

When we start, na pure craze. The rush, the laughter, the chase—e dey sweet. I dey teach am how to love, e dey teach me how to risk.

The wall for the old flat thin. The more I try hide my voice, the more stubborn he go be.

Neighbours dey knock wall, but Ifeanyi no dey send. I dey blush, dey beg am, he go just dey smile that sly smile.

Every time, I go dey beg softly before he go leave me.

I go whisper, voice low, “Abeg, Ifeanyi, stop.” But he dey laugh, dey hold me tight. Na play for am, but for me, na love.

He fine, sabi form, sabi cook.

If e no dey sweep room, e dey fry egg, arrange table. Sometimes he go play Afrobeats, dey dance with me for parlour. I think say na this be love.

I really think say we go last forever.

I dey dream wedding, dey picture children. I for swear say na only death go fit separate us.

I even carry two extra jobs save for ring, plan to propose.

Night nurse duty, weekend pharmacy, still dey write research. All because I want buy ring, surprise am. I dey hustle, dey hope.

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