WRONG ALARM

To Dera, there’s nothing as frightening as breakups, especially in a relationship she’s had to fend off wolves and lions to sustain for so long. But the twists come from the sickness, not the symptoms.

  They are all dumb. All of them. Is what Chiza says. You look at her face which is riddled with care and affection for her twin brother. And you think about the dumb she means. Is it dumb as in they did not know book? Or… 

“I mean they can’t talk.” She continues, immediately clearing the air. “They’d rather sulk up everything than tell you; then proceed to frustrate you with it until your life becomes miserable.” She adds.

For the whole 15 minutes she has been talking, you still haven’t said anything. As a matter of fact, the only word that has managed to escape your adhesive tongue since she walked through that door is “Welcome.” You finally decide to speak:

“I understand you Chiza. I do. But for him to disrespect me like that? In front of the whole class? I’d rather he was dumb like other men.” You want to pick up your phone but there is definitely no reason for that. It has not even made a sound since you don’t know when. Not even one notification, let alone a call. So, you just stare at it as it lies on the foot of your bed. Chiza sighs.

“You and I know he’s never been like that. So, you know he’ll definitely come around.” She says.

“Come around?” You scuff and reach for your phone. You double tap on the phone screen and it comes on, revealing a wallpaper of you and Chizu. That picture Chiza had taken of you both at SUB where you were eating mishai in Chizu’s arms. The unawares picture that had somehow come out so stunning that you used it as your wallpaper. But the picture is going to distract you from the only reason you tapped on the screen in the first place which is to see what the time says. “Come around?” You ask again, rhetorically. “This is 6pm. I haven’t even gotten as much as a missed call from him. Not even the little courtesy of ‘sorry’. Nothing!” You raise both arms and cup your index fingers to show how little the sorry would have actually meant. You want to cry but you immediately hold yourself together. Chiza comes over to the bed and places her left hand on your right shoulder.

“Don’t worry, okay? He’s probably beating himself up for having treated you that way. I believe he’s trying to figure out how best to make amends, and you should believe it too.” You believe her instantly.

##

It was 100L. Second semester precisely. That day you were at Marlima with your secondary school mother to laminate her alumni card which she had just gotten from the office upstairs. You were made to wait a little bit due to the queue in front of the cyber, that was when Chizu walked up to you. You recognized his face at once but that didn’t mean he was not going to introduce himself.

“Hey.” He said.

“Hi.” Your finessed your own voice, to sound as attractive as possible.

“How are you doing?”

“So far, so good.”

“TFS right?”

“Yep.” That was the first time you ever said yep to anyone instead of yes or yeah. And you even did it with attitude.

“Me too.” He took your hand and shook it. “Chizu.” He said.

“Dera.” You replied.

It was like in those Korean movies that you loved to watch. The high school ones. The way you both did it looked too scripted to be real. That day, he had come with his friend Christophe - yes Christophe, there’s no second r! - to play FIFA. But he had to forgo the game and sit with you for so long. That was the semester you became your class’ public enemy number one. Virtually all the girls loathed you. The guys didn’t care, or showed that they did; but the ladies made it clear they wanted nothing to do with you. It became even more obvious a week before the last exams for the semester, during the class’ Anonymous. To say you were the center of the discussion would be a grave understatement; you were the only topic. That night, you'd just held your phone, reading the messages as the screenshots of them dropped in the class group.

One girl wrote:

I don’t even know what Chizu saw in that Dera of a girl. Someone that came from the trenches. 

Another said:

I for say nah Damsel in distress and Prince Charming. But who borrow Dera damsel? Who dash monkey banana?

Another yet added:

Person wey no geh nyash?! She don go use Enugu-Ezike juju tie am down.

Somehow, you didn’t care. Yes, Chizu was definitely one of the most handsome, and richest boys in the department, but you didn’t force him to fall in love with you, neither did he force you to reciprocate. His twin Sister, Chiza, always asked you to be strong. “I can see you both getting married after our graduation.” She would say. Just to show how strong and real your relationship had been, and to prove the haters - there are plenty of them - wrong, what you and Chizu shared had just lasted three years, one month, two weeks, four days and twelve hours. And now that you’re close to your graduation, this is how he wants to break your heart…

##

“Have you eaten?” Chiza asks. You feel the question comes from the place of not knowing what else to say. You want to tell her you’re not hungry, but know she will immediately read it as depression and rush downstairs to buy you something you must eat.

“I have eaten.” You respond. She nods her head slowly.

“Don’t worry. I’ll call Chizu as soon as I leave here and tell him my mind. Let me know what is making him misbehave like this. Okay?”

“Okay.” A few minutes later, she leaves.

You are now sitting in your bed, reminiscing, wondering, whatever you did to make Chizu yell at you like that in front of the whole class. “This isn’t how a lady should behave!!” He had shouted. You still can’t place your hands on the exact thing you did to evoke such harsh statement. As you had stood up to leave the classroom, you’d felt it… the presence of the girls and their scorching eyes on your back. They didn’t have to say it because you were already hearing it in your head:

“Trenches girl!” Nah dat one dey pain you pass, no be even wetin Chizu talk. He had given them the satisfaction they had been craving for four good years. You can only imagine what the next Anonymous would look like.

Someone knocks on your door and your heart scurries into the edge of your spine, a way of telling you it was Chizu knocking. It’s Chizu. He just stands there moping at you after you open the door. His eyes, you can’t tell if they are terrified or tired or sorry. But you stretch your arms and take him in a warm embrace. The anger and disappointment that you had spent the entire evening to build cowardly sip away through the pores in your skin.

“Dera, I’m so so…”

“Sshhh!” You don’t let him finish before you gently drag him into the room. You both stay in each other’s arms, kissing for the next you don’t know how long.

“Should we go downstairs?” You let him ask.

“To do what?”

“I don’t know… buy some corn, maybe?”

“Alright. Let’s go.”

You both walk downstairs and into the streets of Behind Flat. You only realize now, how deep into the night the day has gone. It is drizzling a little bit, but you can still see canopies lined up on the side of Beach Road. Each one filled with students waiting for their corns to roast properly. There’s light everywhere. There’s always light everywhere in this Behind Flat at night. Not necessarily NEPA, who dey even reason those ones? Or even street lights for that matter. But there’s light. You both stroll down Beach Road with his left arm around your waist; and your right hand, after attempting to get to his tall shoulders and realizing it’s still suffering from the limitations of little height, settles for his own waist, too. You find an empty canopy which indicates that the lady has not been there for long, but her corns are on the fire, with ubé decorating the corns in a semi-circular manner. The lady says that each corn is now 250 naira. You would have haggled the price with her if you were alone, but Chizu just says: “Tinubu no go kill us.” and brings out his wallet. The lady meticulously wraps the corns and ubé in a newspaper and puts them into a nylon. Chizu pays her and you are both on your way back to the lodge.

You are on the staircase now, listening to the sound of your feet as they hit the steps followed by Chizu’s. You walk in total silence. You know this is the end of the road. This is how they always do the breakups in movies. But you suddenly stop hearing Chizu’s footsteps behind you. You turn around and see him standing over there like an electric pole.

“Babe, there’s something I need to tell you.” He says. You are glad he still calls you Babe, but you are definitely not happy that he has something to tell you. Oh No! Your heart can not bear it. Not now. He should wait till tomorrow at least, so that you can spend one more night with him. Breakups shouldn’t be this cruel.

“Chizu, whatever it is I’m sure it can wait till tomorrow.” You say and walk back to him. He lets you drag him by the arm and resume climbing the stairs, albeit, crestfallenly.

  “I’m sick, Babe.” He blurts. You don’t hear him. No, you hear him but you’re not listening. “Babe, I’m sick.” He says again. There is something different between the two sentences. The first sick sounded like the sick in I’m sick and tired of this relationship; while the second one, now that you pay attention, sounds like I’m sick… like… terminally ill. The second sick carries a higher level of negative aura. Something like that. You turn to look into his eyes, but you can’t see them because they’re already covered in tears.

“Chizu! Chizu, what’s happening?” You ask desperately. Your eyes are so wide now that they threaten to reach your ears if care is not taken. You have never seen other men cry so you have absolutely no idea what to do in the situation.

“They’re saying I have lung cancer, Babe.” Chizu sounds so broken. He’s sobbing like a baby now. You immediately grab him to wipe his tears. He leans against your small body so that you wedge yourself with the banister. You feel his tears drop on your blouse steadily and wet it down.

“When did you find out?” You ask him. The question sounds so very stupid now that it’s already left your lips.

“Yesterday.” He sobs on. He wants to say something else but you can tell he can’t. You tell him to relax, that it is going to be fine. You understand everything now. That was the reason why he had snapped at you earlier in the day. Oh god, he does not want to break up with you! You really need to quit watching movies. He was scared of losing you. He’s scared of losing you. You want to tell him you will always be there for him, but you don’t want to do it with your lips. It is better done with an embrace but the corn in your hand is preventing you from wrapping your arms around him properly. So, you let the nylon fall to the floor. You hear it unravel and the newspaper unfold. You hear the corns and the ubé immediately run out of the torn newspaper in jubilation of having escaped the wrath of the cruel walls of your digestive tracts, and proceed to find their way down the stairs. You listen in silence, as they drop all the way to the base of the staircase. Now, and only now, do you realize that it has actually begun to rain heavily.