Chapter 2: When Femi’s Name Burst Everything

For that class reunion five years ago, me and Ngozi never break up that time.

The air for that day still fresh for my mind—the way people laugh, gist, dey do like say na old times. I still remember how the DJ dey play Timaya, everybody dey dance except me wey just dey watch Ngozi.

That day na just the day after I propose to Ngozi.

My hand still dey shake small from the ring wahala of the day before. She show the ring to everybody, smile like person wey win jackpot. My head dey swell, I dey reason say maybe finally, my own don better.

She drink sotay she scatter for table, dey talk anyhow.

Bottles pile up for our side. The more she drink, the more her mouth dey loose. I just dey pray make e no pass boundary.

Everybody dey use her catch cruise.

Dem no even pity me, dey throw mouth like say na their babe dey fall hand. I just dey hold my smile tight like belt.

"I never see Ngozi drunk like this before. Oya, talk true, una quarrel?"

Somebody shout that one from the back, people begin dey turn their neck, dey wait for drama.

"Abeg, Tunde dey pamper am too much. He no fit even argue with Ngozi."

That one pain me small, but I just bone, form say I no hear.

"True talk, Tunde wait seven years before Ngozi gree marry am. She just too happy, na why she drink like this."

I tire for all their talk.

The talk dey heavy for my ear. I just dey force smile, make dem no know say my mind dey shake.

"Abeg, make una leave me." I smile, collect the wine from Ngozi hand. "The wedding go soon reach. Plenty work dey ahead. Today na small enjoyment, make she relax."

I try shift attention, make wahala no escalate. My voice steady, but inside my chest dey drum.

"Aww, see love."

E come be like say everybody dey do chorus. Even people wey no know the story dey join dey hail.

"Ehen, true love dey o."

"Ngozi really get sense—she no lose at all."

Everybody dey look us like say na film we dey act.

I look Ngozi, wey just dey sleep for table, then remove my jacket, cover her body.

As I cover her, I remember when I first buy that jacket for Lagos Island, thinking say one day e go serve her. She murmur small, settle like baby. Na so I just dey pity am, dey wish say I fit carry her wahala with style.

Just like dem talk, me and Ngozi don dey together for seven years, our relationship dey almost reach the finish line.

The road long, e rough, but I dey tell myself say e go worth am last-last. All the small small fight, all the make-up calls, all the surprise gifts. Seven years no be beans.

I pinch her cheek small. "You don drink scatter, abeg wake up, make we dey go house."

Her skin soft under my hand. I use that small gesture try remind her say person dey her side, say I dey carry her matter for mind.

Ngozi mumble, rub my hand like pikin. "Femi, abeg stop..."

Her voice soft, almost like whisper. E cut me for inside, cold pass December rain.

Femi...

Femi Adeyemi.

Na Ngozi ex-boyfriend name be that.

That name heavy for my ear, like thunder wey strike for harmattan. My heart skip beat. I pause, dey reason say maybe I mishear. But the way people dey look, I know say dem hear am too. The way she hold my hand, the way she sigh, I know say na truth.