"Who are you?" The other girl was tall, beautiful and light skinned. She wore a red halter neck top and skinny blue jeans. Her hair was perfectly styled and she had no blemish on her skin. She sat poised on the settee, a soft orange drink in her hands, sipping quietly as she read the Vogue magazine on her laps. She looked up in surprise at the question, her face hardened at the rude and abrupt tone.
"I could ask you the same thing, who are you?" she frowned her lovely face, keeping her drink aside to face her unwelcome companion.
The first girl laughed in derision, dropping her bright pink bag on the side table and taking a fighting stance.
"Considering that I asked you first, let me show you manners. I am Victoria, Ade's girlfriend. So, who are you, again?"
The other girl raised her brow, "am Liz, Ade's fiancee."
"Says who?" Victoria shouted.
"Says Ade, the day he gave me this beautiful ring." she shoved her left hand in Victoria's face, to better show her the gleaming ring.
She took a deep breath, waited a beat before turning back to Victoria who was frowning in confusion. "I don't know what games Ade has been playing with you but am his fiancee, our wedding is in four months time. Before you get a broken heart, just leave." Liz said calmly, a plea in her eyes.
Victoria sat down heavily, like one confused. She looked up at Liz, saying in a small voice "Am carrying his child."
"What!!?"
They sat together, each mind running in circles.
The door creaked open and Ade walked in. Liz ran to him, holding his shirt and crying into his shoulders.
"Why did you do this to me Ade," she kept saying over and over.
Victoria held back, looking at Ade strangely.
"It's not what you think Liz, I can explain."
"Explain what?" Liz exploded. "Explain how you've been keeping another girl? All this time I've been away, I felt I had a faithful man, waiting for my return. I should have known..."
"Listen to me Liz...." Ade interrupted.
"No I won't, there's nothing you can say, no excuse, no explanation. I shouldn't even be surprised. You're a typical man."
She grabbed her bag, making to leave. Ade held her arms and pulled her into his shoulders, she struggled weakly, quieting down into small sobs. Victoria still had not said a word, staring at him.
He sat Liz down gently, then stood up and went inside. Victoria sat down, her face puzzled. It was Ade, yet it wasn't him. Something about him was not right. As she sat contemplating this, he came back into the living room, clutching a picture frame. He went to Liz and showed her the picture. Victoria peeped from her seat.
It was Ade, there were two of them, smiling and waving blue convocation caps into the air.
"That's Adewole, my twin brother, and your boyfriend." he said to Victoria.
"What are you saying Maadam? That I should kill my own father?" Angela was incredulous. Maadam had no idea what she was asking her to do. "I just lost my mother because of you, and now you want me to kill my own father." she laughed bitterly. Maadam was quietly watching her, waiting for an answer, so she turned to give her one.
"I'll think about it."
"You have three days."
Angela woke up. She stood and paced around the room, watching her father as he slept ignorantly. Already her mind was made up. She grabbed her back pack and wore her black canvas. She took the padlock and locked it from the outside. That would delay her father until she got far enough.
Walking into the night, she went straight to the forest, unafraid. She wandered for two days, eating the fruits the forest provided. She only had to survive this for one more day, she thought as she propped herself on a tree trunk and prepared to sleep, until she heard the footsteps. They were approaching her. She grimaced in distaste, Maadam had found her.
She stood up and waited until she saw the young girl walking towards her wearing a pretty white nightgown. She looked like she had just come out of a big mansion. The girl was beautiful and had long black hair.
"Hello Angela, am Maria." The girl said.
"What do you want?"
"Maadam wants to know when and how you'll do the job." Maria replied.
"Are you her servant?"
"No, am her assistant, her best student. You're not the only Kondra you know." Maria smiled cheekily. "Stop asking me questions and give me an answer, you've made me traipse this forest looking for you. I have other things to do."
Angela sat down, unfazed. "I can't do it. That's my final answer."
Maria laughed. "I knew you would say that. I was actually hoping you'd say that. Here's a gift from Maadam."
Angela looked up in time to see the knife poised to strike. She dived and narrowly missed the cut. Maria grunted, she seemed to be enjoying this. She grabbed Angela's hair and pulled her up.
" You little, insolent fool. You think you're the first Kondra asked to kill her father? You should be happy that you were selected. Am going to enjoy this, almost as much as I enjoyed killing my own father."
Angela closed her eyes, welcoming her death. She opened them when she felt Maria's hands release her hair. She turned, watching a red spot appear and grow over Maria's chest until she fell to the ground. The knife in Maria's back glinted in the dark.
She looked up and saw her father running towards her. She ran into his arms, relieved.
"You would have told me Angela, you didn't have to run away." Papa scolded her gently. He shook his head. "I wonder how you survived in this forest alone."
"You know am a big girl now, Papa."
He laughed heartily and lifted her backpack. "Let's go. There's a car waiting on the other side of the road."
"Where are we going Papa?"
"To the village my dear, you have a lot to learn."
They didn't see Maria as she lifted her hand and threw the knife she still grasped. All they heard was the soft thud as it landed and entered into her father's neck.
Papa didn't give her time to ask the questions that flooded. His seeming lethargy deserted him and he sprang into action. "I'll answer all your questions. Just go to your room and pack a few essentials in your back pack. We have to leave before the Police gets here." He put his arm on her little shoulders and gently pushed her to her room. She tried not to stare at her mother's corpse just lying there, by the staircase. Tears sprang to her eyes as she packed but she brushed them away.
Her world had just come crashing down and there was so much uncertainty. But one thing she knew for certain; her life would never be the same again.
As they got into the car and sped out into the night, she kept taking side glances at her father. He seemed like a stranger to her now. He had always been a very quiet man, one who said little but always lurked in the background like an ever present shadow.
The car came to a stop and they alighted.
"Leave your back pack in the car. We won't be here for long." he instructed.
They walked into the crude building. White plastic chairs were everywhere, with a few persons in white gowns and yellow sashes belted at their waists. They all held huge Bibles under their armpits and were murmuring words she couldn't understand, some moving in a morbid fashion as one having convulsions. They all stared at her as she passed and she put her head down to avoid their eyes.
A lady wearing a red sash indicated for them to sit as she went into a small office by the side. Soon after, a tall robust man with thick beards came out of the office, the woman following behind with her hands demurely behind her back like a loyal servant. The man walked with a quiet confidence that came from years of being in authority, his purple sash giving him a grand look.
He walked to her father, murmured a few words into his ears and then turned sharply to look at her. She shrank back in fright. His eyes were dark, boring into her soul like he wanted to search out all her secrets. He put out his left hand and the lady behind him produced a bell and handed it to him.
He then shouted a few words and rang the bell incessantly as his followers in white started singing and clapping loudly. He jumped up and down around the hall like one possessed until he stopped in front of her, holding out his bell. She stood uncertain. Then he laughed.
He drew circles round her head with the bell then stopped suddenly. He walked abruptly back into his office. Her father stood up and motioned for her to follow. They went into his office decorated with a table and two plastic chairs. He placed the bell on the table beside some big books and sat down. Her father took the other seat and waited.
He cleared his throat.
"You will take her to the Mango river at Obiro. Wash her every morning for seven days. Feed her only raw eggs and mineral. Then her maadam will appear anytime you want her to."
"Thank you father" papa replied, bowing his head in respect and led her out to the car.
They drove for a few miles until she turned to him abruptly and asked " will you now tell me why you killed mama?"
He took a deep breath and stopped the car.
"I have known right from birth that you were a Kondra. I am a Kandra, a male intercessor. It was my destiny to produce one Kondra from my lineage, for which reason I married your mother. Your mother had no idea who I was.
But I had to kill her Angela, it is a law. A Kondra or kandra must eliminate their mates when a child is born. The mate's death purifies the child Kondra.
Please forgive me, but you have a destiny much more important and we must leave here now."
"So my mother is only good as a childbearer? What kind of law would murder an innocent woman?" she shouted.
"Listen Angela, you don't understand anything. You will know very soon."
She sat quietly and absorbed this. There was no explanation, no reason, no logic that would justify her mother's death. She swallowed the bitterness in her heart and asked "Why did you call the damona?"
Papa laughed bitterly. "Am not a murderer Angela. I've never been one. I didn't have it in me to do it. I needed his influence."
He turned to look at her. "Can we go now?"
She nodded slowly.
They drove into the Obioro area where papa led her to a small room with no windows. At night, it got stuffy but she didn't complain. The mosquitoes were not helping either. She didn't speak much, neither did her father. She was not allowed to leave the room, staying alone whenever her father went to buy supplies. She hated her diet of raw eggs but she drank it dutifully, using the mineral to wash the raw taste away.
The seventh day broke in anticipation. They went to the bank of the river. She washed herself and they stood in the water, waiting.
The water started bubbling a few minutes later, rising until her Maadam emerged slowly from the water. She would have turned and run if her father had not been behind her. She couldn't bring herself to touch her, to know if the flesh was real or an illusion. Dressed in white robes and long flowing hair, her maadam was striking.
"What do you want?" Maadam asked her father.
"To know her first assignment."
"Wait for a few days, i'll let you know."
Papa turned her around and they walked away. She knew if she turned back she wouldn't see anything.
Maadam came to her that night.
"Kondra, now you have been purified, you must begin your training."
Angela stared at her with suspicion, "so you knew about my mother's death and you didn't tell me?" the familiar bitterness filled her heart again.
" yes, your mother was a necessary sacrifice."
She frowned in anger. Didn't anybody understand? That was her mother, her mother they had murdered in cold blood. They all acted like she hadn't even being a human being, like she had been nothing, to be forgotten easily. How could she just forget her? Her sorrow threatened to fill her heart. She swallowed it down.
"What do you want me to do?"
Maadam smiled, her eyes hard and cold.
"You will kill your father."
Angela had always seen them, things she couldn't explain, things no one else could see. The first time she had seen one of the creatures hanging on the roof of a building, she ran to tell her mother. 'It's only a dream' her mother had said. But it wasn't a dream. Nobody believed her, they warned her heatedly to stop talking about it. 'Such things are not for kids to talk about' they would say. So she kept it to herself now. It didn't matter how horrible or how kind a creature would seem, it didn't matter what they were doing, she kept silent. They saw her, some even tried to speak to her but she could never hear them.
She called the creatures with white apparels 'faeries' for lack of a better word. The ones with horns and black scales for skin she called 'damona'. For the first ten years of her life, she never understood why only her could see them, until her eleventh birthday when her 'Maadam' visited her in a dream.
Her Maadam was a beautiful and delicate woman with a kind, gentle smile. She always wore a white apparel. She was the one who told Angela that she was a 'Kondra', the one who intercedes. Maadam visited her every Saturday night without fail, always kind and willing to answer all Angela's questions. She was the one who explained to her that a damona influences situations negatively while faeries did so positively.
She had seen them in action, watching as a damona perched on a woman who was arguing loudly on the streets until it erupted into a violent fight. She watched as the woman had bit the other until blood gushed out.
It was a bright Tuesday morning when she saw a damona hanging on the roof of her house. This could not be good. She ran inside the house, calling out her mother anxiously.
"mama, there's something on our roof, we must leave this house, a bad thing is about to happen."
Mama looked at her in surprise.
"Go slowly, what's on the roof?"
"You never believe me when I tell you anything, mama, we must all leave this house." She was crying.
Mama slapped her across the face. "Stop all this nonsense and get to school. Am tired of your tattle tales." She grabbed her arms and dragged her forcibly to the car, throwing her in and slamming the door. Angela was restless in school. She knew the damona was there for a reason, she just didn't know what.
She was in a state of anxiousness until school hours were over and the driver took her home. She ran inside the house, searching for any sign of trouble. There was none. She was perplexed. Her father came home in the evening from work, no sign of trouble there.
She felt uneasy. The damona had been there for a reason. Or had she imagined it? If only it was a Saturday, then she could ask maadam. That would have to wait she thought as she prepared for bed. It wasn't until later that night when she heard a sound. It came again. And again.
She rushed outside her room. There, at the top of the stairs, her dad was having an argument with her mother. It was starting. She went outside through the back door of the kitchen. Sure enough, the damona was hanging on their roof. It looked at her darkly. Frightened, she went back inside. The argument was getting louder. As long as the damona was there, it would only end in violence.
"Mama, papa!" she screamed. They turned to look at her. " Stop arguing please, please I beg you."
"Go back to your room." Her mother shouted harshly. They wouldn't listen. She ran outside again, and shouted at the damona "Get away from here."
The damona gave her a look of contempt. She picked up some stones and threw at him. The stones passed through him and landed noisily on the roof. This was not helping.
Another loud sound sent her scurrying inside just in time to see the slap that sent her mother tumbling down the stairs. She landed like a heap at the base of the stairs and lay still. Angela ran to her and held her head up, trying to stem the blood running down her nose with her hands. Still, she made no movement. Her father walked past and headed into the kitchen, barely glancing at the motionless woman on the floor.
She didn't know how long she stayed there, it could have been hours or mere minutes but she knew the moment her mother drew her last breath, her body became cold and rigid. Still Angela did not leave her side. When at last she stood up, her mother's face was soaked with her tears.
She walked slowly, like one in a trance into the kitchen. Her father was there, nursing a bottle of beer at the counter, staring into the night through the window at the sink.
He turned to look at her, a bleak expression on his face.
"I know you saw it. I know you saw the damona. Am the one who called it here."
It all started innocently. Christopher, a struggling young man, had gone to the backyard of the compound to bring in the clothes he had washed that morning. It was a public compound, with houses as old as the ancient times, with no hope of improvement. The lines were directly behind his neighbour's flat. The sharp smell of urine hit his nostrils as he walked towards the line, a result of the kids who preferred to pee outside than miss any play time. As he bent to pick a shirt that had fallen from his hands, he raised his head and that's when he saw it, a sliver of light coming from a small crack in the window of a bedroom. The window was made of wood, the rains had washed away the brown rich colour of the wood, the years had left many cracks and tears. It wasn't the crack that caught his attention however. It was the image behind it. He could clearly see Ronke, his neighbour's quiet fifteen year old daughter who was rarely seen except when she went on errands. She was standing and gazing at her reflection in the mirror as she tried out different poses in quick succession, wearing a short flighty nightwear. Perplexed, he stayed there, stooped on the floor, watching her until she left the mirror and out of his sight.
Her image stayed with him all through that night into the next morning. Ronke was not exceptionally pretty, he had never really paid any attention to her. The only times he bumped into her was in the mornings when she left early for school and even then, she would offer a mousy greeting his way with her head down, never actually looking at him.
That morning he delayed in his room till he saw her open the door in her school uniform. Not wasting any time, he grabbed his bag and headed out, catching up with her at the gate. He noticed there was something different about her. He couldn't place it. She offered her greeting and walked past him.
It wasn't until he got to his office that it hit him. For the first time, Ronke had not bowed her head to greet him. She had looked directly at him, her dark brown eyes filled with confidence. Her skirt had been shorter too, her shirt tighter. A smile spread accross his face. He recognised the signs.
On getting home that evening, he hurried through his evening ablutions, waiting patiently till it got dark. He picked up some clothes, making a pretext of going to spread them on the line. Nobody used the line in the evenings so he knew he would be alone. Peeping through the crack, he didn't see anybody at first. He adjusted his neck painfully until he could make her out, lying on the bed and going through a phone. She had a wrapper tied on her chest which got to her knees. He continued to watch as her legs danced on the bed excitedly until she put the phone aside and stood up. She grabbed a hair net drying on the mirror stand and covered her hair. She retied the wrapper that was slipping from her waist as she removed a short night wear from the bag lying close to the bed and spread it out on the bed. She put a short towel on her shoulders and went out the room.
She had gone to take a bath. Excitedly, he sat down and began scratching his mosquito feasted legs. The bathroom window was on the front side of the house. He couldn't go there without being seen. The creaking of the door brought him scrambling to his knees, his greedy eyes making their way to the crack.
She had cleaned her body and was spreading the towel out on a thin iron hanger, her wrapper still tied to her chest. She put her long smooth legs on the bed and applied lotion. Then she removed her wrapper and slid into her thin night wear. He grinned excitedly, his mind running wild as he went back to his room.
He could barely sleep that night, her image stayed in his minds eye.
So began the ritual. Every evening, he would wait anxiously until darkness fell before proceeding to his spot beside her window. He barely glanced at her when their paths crossed in the mornings. He was sure she would see the lust written all over him. He began to depend on seeing her image every night before sleeping. He would spend hours lying on his bed, dreaming.
One evening, two weeks later, he went to the crack but nobody was in the room. He waited for about an hour before giving up. He couldn't sleep that night. He kept wondering where she had gone to. She wasn't at the gate the next morning either. After waiting till he was sure he was going to be too late for work, he left. Her room and her parents' seemed deserted. That evening, he paid a courtesy visit to the other tenants. He learned that Ronke had travelled with her parents and would be back at the end of the weekend. As Sunday approached, he got more anxious, more restless. He couldn't wait for his Ronke to be back. In the evening, he saw her. She was carrying a little travelling bag in her arms, her hair was slightly wet from the light drizzles, wearing a brown skirt under a white shirt. She greeted the other neighbours sitting in their varendah before going to her door. He looked around. Her parents were not in sight. He casually strolled to her as she struggled with the padlock on the door.
"Good evening Mr Christopher" she greeted as he approached.
He smiled what he hoped was an easy smile. "Welcome oh. Where are your parents na? I heard you people travelled this weekend."
"They'll be back tomorrow sir. I came back for school tomorrow." she replied.
"Oh, Ok then...let me help you with that."
He took the key from her, making sure their fingers touched as he did. He looked sideways at her. She hadn't noticed.
Suddenly he felt angry. She was looking at her phone, paying no attention to him. Couldn't she see that he loved her? What was so important that she couldn't take a moment to talk with him? He banged the padlock as it opened, making sure he startled her before walking away.
He was in a rage. She didn't really see him or notice him as a person. Every morning, he would risk being late to work just so he would see her in the mornings. He swallowed numerous malaria drugs to appease his legs which were covered in mosquito bites and despite all this, all his sacrifice, she gave him no more attention than she would give a passing fly. He was only fifteen years older than her, why couldn't she just notice him? Even if for one time?
His anger only increased as darkness fell. Strapping a knife to the back of his trouser, he stomped furiously to her window, not caring if anyone saw him. He peeped through the crack, she was sitting on the bed, her bag open in front of her as she folded her clothes. He waited till she left the room, then he tested the window. It wasn't locked. He removed his trouser and spread it on the line, securing the knife to his boxers. He slipped into the room and stood next to the shoe rack behind the door. She came in a few minutes later, humming a song. As she went to the bed and bent forward, he pounced on her, covering her mouth with his hands immediately to stiffle her scream. She struggled until he pushed her violently to the floor and brought out the knife, holding a finger to his mouth. She covered her mouth with her hand as tears filled her eyes. He smiled as he used the knife to cut her skirt open. She covered her legs and moved backwards towards the door, pleading with her eyes. It only added to his excitement. He knelt in front of her and started to unbutton her shirt, ignoring the tears that dripped to his hands. She was moving backwards slowly, he dropped the knife by the side and dragged her forward, going back to work on her buttons. His hands were shaking so much it was taking too long. He didn't see her hands creep downwards. He didn't see her hands reach the silver glinting knife. He was raising his head to grab her hair when the hard thin steel struck. The knife went three inches deep inside his left eye.
When I entered the dormitory, there was some commotion going on. Apparently, there was a tussle over who would be Ethelle's school mother. I smiled. Ethelle was a pretty girl, she had a small stature and a quiet appearance that made you want to take care of her. I wasn't surprised. While their arguments were going on, I was in my corner, sitting on my bunk bed, arranging my locker. I deliberately did not want to be involved. I liked Ethelle too but I didn't want to join the foray. It was kind of funny seeing the arguments going on: I saw her first, no you didn't, she likes me, no she likes me.
I could see the confusion in the girl's eyes. She didn't understand what the trouble was all about, like she didn't know she was pretty enough to cause so much arguments.
Then came a bright idea from Oniro, the small smart dark girl who loved gisting about lovers and dark corners. Ethelle would pick who she wanted. The two main contenders agreed shakily, each wondering if they had been kind enough to her to be picked.
I thought privately that this would make the little girl feel too important but I kept it to myself. I didn't want to get involved. I brought out my buckets and started washing.
The girl was sent for. She came as quiet and pretty as you would please, stealing everybody's heart all over again, including mine but being the tough girl I was, I refused to show any interest. I just sat there and washed my clothes.
Then they asked her the big question. Who would you want to be your school mother? She was afraid, obviously not wanting to offend anyone or cause any bad blood between anybody. I almost felt sorry for her but she had her beauty to blame so it wasn't anybody's fault. She stayed quiet a while and Oniro, the mediator who had already picked her school daughter without any fuss, quietly asked again.
What would she do? I wondered. I rinsed my wrapper and started to spread it on the line when she made the most unexpected decision. She walked up to me, still quiet and pretty as you please, and pointed at me. I was shocked but like the 'tough girl' I was, I hid it well and quietly admired the wisdom contained in her small frame.
I felt pleased but at the same time apprehensive. I wasn't sure I could show her the love she needed. I wasn't the type who called everybody 'sweetheart', I downright hated any display of affection. I had never had a school daughter so I started to wonder what school mothers did.
I did the best I could. She was an independent girl so it wasn't much. I washed for her whenever water was scarce, I ironed for her, supplied her with water and that was pretty much it. I never felt like I was close to her or I had done enough for her. I wasn't the kind of person who got close to others in very short periods.
The school year came to an end and send forth parties were being organised. We all dressed up to the nines, you would think we were going to a red carpet event. In a way, that was our red carpet event. We all had survived six years of suffering, punishments, water scarcity, lack of provisions and money, flogging, scrubbing smelly floors and toilets, the man the man (a male intruder who entered the female dormitory at night), boyfriends or lack of, and more. We had our laughs and cries and we damn well deserved an ovation. After the music and dance presentations, then came the mocking time, when the junior students would imitate the outgoing students in a funny way. I felt apprehensive, I wasn't sure Ethelle knew me so well that she would do any mocking but she surprised me.
She brought out a bed to the middle of the dormitory, held a novel, and did my walking step. Everyone burst out laughing. My walking step was unique in those days. (unique may mean good or bad to others, I dunno).
Then she called out her name "Ethelle" in a perfect imitation of my voice. I never thought she knew me that well. It was the perfect gift. I cried though I hid it, and hugged her. She was my little angel.
The wedding was in full swing when I arrived. The DJ was pounding the speakers into pulp, not letting anyone think, much less speak. The couple were dancing on the floor, crowd of well wishers dancing along with them while others sprayed money in the air.I quickly spotted an empty seat in the middle of the reception hall and grabbed it. There were three empty seats with bags placed atop. I knew the owners had gone to get busy on the dance floor. An elderly woman with a gele that reached the highest heavens occupied the fifth seat while a middle aged man was in the seat across mine.
The ushers were distributing trays of garri, pounded yam, egusi and vegetable soup. Most of the ladies were eating coconut rice with their dainty and well polished hands. I couldn't eat. I had no apetite. my eyes were scanning the crowd, searching. I had a mission.
It took me ten minutes to locate him. He was on the dance floor, dancing his heart away. I eagerly craned my neck to look at his partner. She was a tall light skinned girl. Her red gown was striking, her red lips were pouting and inviting, the six inch heels strapped to her legs were like an elevator. She was hauntingly beautiful. My heart sank. Even her dance was beautiful. I deflated right there on my seat.
The middle aged Yoruba man tried to make conversation with me. I smiled apologetically and kept mute. He frowned and went back to his smart phone which he was obviously having trouble using. Smiling, I wondered why he had bought a phone he could not use.
The music came to an end. I watched as he lovingly held 'her' hands and they started coming towards my table. Too late I realised they were headed to my table. I couldn't turn coward and run so I raised my head and sat straight. He stood still as he saw me in his table. He frowned. I could see him grinding his teeth in anger. I smiled brightly, the anger burning through me. My only humiliation was that I was alone. Oh I wished I had brought Stanley. That would have shown him. He sat in the seat next to mine and his shoulder brushed me as he sat. My body immediately tingled. Damn it. He was still so cute. And I still loved him. How could he do this to me? I put on a brave face and willed the tears to go back down. No way would I cry in front of him.
He turned to me slightly. "What are you doing here?"
I smiled. "Why are you asking me that? Sandra was my friend too."
He looked around the table like he was searching for someone. "Where's Stanley, your boyfriend?"
I knew he wanted to gloat. I didn't answer him. If only I loved Stanley instead of this oaf here. I wouldn't be having this much problem. I just had to love the one who didn't love me as much, the one who in just two weeks, already had someone new. I had spent the last two weeks crying my eyes out and he obviously had been frolicking with this...this....
I couldn't call her names. She was just too beautiful. All my old fears bounced back. Kehinde was very handsome. I had always been insecure every time a prettier girl came around him. And they always came. In droves. Always. It didn't end.
He started tapping his hands on his trousers. His fingers were slim and long, and oh so beautiful. I remembered how he used to brush my cheek with those same fingers, when we would laugh all day long. But now those fingers were dead to me. They had touched someone else.
He turned to her and they began a quiet conversation. It didn't matter how I strained my neck. I couldn't hear them. I wanted to look busy so I brought out my phone and started clicking away. A picture of the two of us was still my wallpaper. I stared at it, the tears came back up, wetting my eyes. I didn't care anymore. He had to give me an explanation. I sent him a short text. He frowned as he read it and looked at me sideways. Then he nodded slightly. I stood up and walked outside. He waited ten minutes then followed. I could see the female eyes following him. I wished they would all go blind.
I stood by the wall. He stood next to me. Very close. My heart started beating rapidly again. I had to calm down and ask the question that had been troubling me.
"Why did you break up with me?" my voice was breaking but I didn't care anymore. I allowed the tears to fall.
He frowned as he saw them. His hands reached out and wiped them away tenderly. I looked up. He was standing so close, I could see he was upset about something.
"Please tell me what happened. Why did you send me that text?" I asked again.
He took a deep breath and removed his hands from my face before he answered. "You allowed him to sleep in your room. That idiot spent one night with you didn't he?" he was angry now, looking at me as he expected an answer.
"Who? What are you talking about? Nobody spent any night in my room." I replied. He looked away. I held his arms. "Please tell me. What are you talking about? Did somebody tell you someone spent a night in my room?". I was anxious now.
He removed my hands. "Don't act like you don't know. I saw you MYSELF" he shouted that last part.
Eyes turned towards us. I waited a while before I continued.
"When?"
"Saturday morning." he ground out impatiently. "See Cynthia, there's nothing you can say to me now. I know everything. I always complained about how Stanley was always around you. You said it was nothing. Am out."
He went back inside the hall. I was thinking, trying to remember exactly what happened last Saturday morning. Then it came like a flash. I quickly ran inside and sat down. I was smiling now that I understood the misunderstanding. He frowned at my smile and shifted closer to his partner. I sent him another text. Stanley, my neighbour who had previously asked me out, had come to collect his textbook I had borrowed that early morning, wearing only his boxers. Kehinde had seen him as he had been leaving and had assumed the worst. I didn't wait for him to finish reading the text. I held his left hand, interlacing my fingers with his. I just wanted to touch him.
He looked at our fingers, then at me. "I'm sorry" he whispered in my ears. More tears rose to my eyes. "I'm sorry too." I whispered back.
We stayed like that, looking at each other. Somebody cleared their throat to get our attention. It was the girl he had been dancing with. She was smiling. I was confused. Then he leaned in and whispered again, "She's my cousin."
I smiled and put my head on his shoulders.
