The Weapons Formed Against Me 4

Madness had caught up with understanding girlfriend. 

                              𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫

                                 𝐈𝐟𝐞

          𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝.

Even a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, the evil villain was a Career tenor singer. An idiot with a beautiful, structured jawbone and skin that looked like you could strike a match and it would spark a light. The evil villain was the man who just slowed his car beside me and was now calling my name from his wound-down window.

Boma Sintel.

“Ife, wait nau,” he said, rolling his car forward as I hastened my steps to get away from him.

“Ifenkili...”

Thunder from Afghanistan fire you there.

“Bernie...”

Bernie kill you there.

“Wait nau.” 

I could hear the irritation in his voice but. I didn’t care. I wished he would choke with my name in his throat.

“Oya, enter the car let me drop you wherever you are going to.”

I couldn’t help the laughter that erupted from my mouth. Nice try, Boma. Nice try. But no. Even if I was walking through the valleys and shadows of death, I’d never sit my ass inside this fowl’s car. I’d rather die than accept any help from this idiot who made me date myself for years.

“Where are you going by the way?” he asked, slowly following me

To meet a man who is much better than you, 𝑨𝒇𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒖. 

Yes, you heard me right. Preye might be authoritative, even a bit patriarchal and egocentric—the little time I spent with him gave me a hint, but he was a thousand times the man Boma wasn’t. He knew what he wanted and wasn’t playing games about his feelings. 

He liked me. He wanted a relationship with me. In return, he was going to shower me with every care a church baddie—I hope there was something like that, who desired a soft life, wanted. 

Ale warned me that I should watch out for red flags after I told her about Preye’s authoritativeness. But come on, I could handle the guy. Besides, my own no too good too. I was stubborn and heady, my mouth could run like a damaged tap when I got angry. Preye was the kind of man who could handle me.

Boma tried sha. In fact, our relationship was going smoothly until he started distancing himself from me. At first, I thought it was because of his job. He was a professional classical singer who needed time to rehearse and exercise for an upcoming show at the government’s house. But when that was over and he wasn’t still speaking to me unless I called him first, neither was he responding to my WhatsApp messages even when he would be online all night, I complained to his friends. But they said I should be patient with him because he was going through a lot of pressure from his family. They said his father was sick. 

His father was sick and he didn’t even bother to tell me himself! Why then was I his girlfriend? 

They made me feel terrible for not being caring enough to know about his stress. So, I decided to give him space even though my clingy self kicked against it. But I kept sending him messages though. Self-help texts;

𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦.

𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭.

𝘛𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘓𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘯...

The bunkum was busy replying ‘amen’ to all my wishes. Eating the food which I was bringing to his house on weekends like every understanding girlfriend, who wanted to take care of her man, would do.

Two months later, this 𝘕𝘸𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘻𝘢 posted a picture of a girl on his Facebook page and captioned it “My wife.”

Guyyyyyssss, I stared at that photo for two hours and the girl in it wasn’t me!

I didn’t believe what was happening until I called one of his friends to confirm it and that one developed speech impairment. 

It took me almost a year to recover and stop cursing Boma and his friends who ran me street. I wished he could slip and fall and die, that he would swallow one of those mics he sang with and choke to death, and that he would develop menstrual cramps that would never go away. 

To make matters worse, Judie, his elder sister that I connected with on Facebook had the effrontery to slide into my DM to tell me trash;

“You have been a nice woman to my brother. It’s unfortunate that he impregnated this girl and had to marry her...”

Ah! Haddiiibeeeennnn I knew her personally, and that she was standing before me that moment, I would have given her a dirty slap.

Anyway, Thank God he left the church and disappeared to God knows where. That helped my healing. But...but...my God would Judge him for what he did to me.See ehn, On the Judgement Day, na only God go sidon. Every other person go stand tire because of the case between me and Boma. It would be a longggg judgement day.

 “I have been following you for close to fifteen minutes and it’s becoming embarrassing. Enter the car let’s talk,” Boma said. “Is your leg not paining you—walking on those heels?”

Yes. My legs hurt and I feared I might grow muscles, AKA yams at the back of my legs. But I’d prefer that a million times. 

“Where are you heading to sef?” he asked again.

To where my mechanic was waiting for me to come pick up my car. I was supposed to meet Preye at a friend’s house opening party. He had offered to come pick me up, but I declined, claiming I didn’t want to bother him, while the truth was that attending the party with my car would make me independent of him. I would be able to excuse myself and drive back home when I felt I’d had enough. 

I might be an extrovert, a crazy, jolly lady. But I hated parties. 

It always baffled people when I told them I felt lost and useless at parties, but that was the truth. Especially when I wasn’t in the company of my gang.

“Come on, nau. Ifenkili be reasonable,” Boma said with irritation. Stopping his car. I turned to stare at him.

Disgusting, I thought. He looked so washed, so faded. What happened to him?

And how did I ever manage to date this Oporo-crayfish?

Chai, Ifenkili you have dated 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 in this life o. How did I even manage to stick to this guy all the while we were together? I saw the sign o. I did. But I didn’t realize it early enough. 

You know how the body of a woman gave clear signs when it was rejecting a romantic partner? I had those. Acne, inflammation, puffiness, weight gain in one week and becoming too skinny the next week. Anxiety, bloating, constipation, hormonal imbalances, low energy, becoming less attractive...anything that was related to chronic stress that wasn’t present before.

It became clear he was a weapon formed against me the moment I started getting over him and there was an inevitable “glow up” happening in and around me over time.

Truly, sometimes, the root cause of one’s health problems could be one thorn of a person hanging around one like a bone stuck in the throat. 

My relationship with Boma made me mutter ‘God abeg’ a million times.

As I turned back and continued walking, I heard him swear loudly.

“You know what? Go to hell, ugly duckling,” he shouted after me.

I smiled at the frustration that coloured his voice. Not bothered that he called me ugly and a duckling. I might be anything in the world but not ugly.

Boma knew this.

My phone vibrated and I fished it out of my bag.

“Madam, I don dey wait since, where you dey nau?”

“I am close, where are you parked...oh, I’ve seen you.”

In a few minutes, I was inside my car and heading to the party, with a satisfying smile on my lips.  

It took me another fifteen minutes to get there.

 I was ushered into the large sitting room where a handful of people were already meeting and greeting.

The celebrant must be a simple person because I could count just twelve guests. The music wasn’t loud either. 

“Thank you,” I said to the drink server who brought a rack of 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘴 my way and waited for me to pick one. 

“There are small chops too,” he said. “Over there. And food at the dining. Just go over there and make your choice.”  

“Thank you,” I said again, clanging the drink open and sipping, while my eyes roamed in search of Preye.

He was nowhere in sight. 

Was I too early? 

But when he called while I was still dressing up, he said he was there already.

I took another sip out of the canned drink. 𝘏𝘮𝘮, this drink would go well with some balls of puff-puff. 

I was halfway towards the confectionary stand when a giggle filtered into my ears. Then a familiar male laughter, followed by several more giggles. 

I turned towards the sound and almost choked on my drink. 

W-wait...wait a minute. 𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘰𝘯 𝘑𝘦𝘴𝘶𝘴’𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵?

I-I knew that guy.

No, I didn’t.

I did. Of course, I did. 

“Brother Oghene,” I whispered. Giving him a slow look over, wondering who announced the second coming of Jesus to make him baff up this good; his hair was trimmed, and so was his beard. In black Parachute cargo pants styled with a flannel white shirt and Air Jordan 1 Mid sneakers, he held the attention of two ladies standing with him while looking like their answered prayer.

Jesus, the son of David, he looked so sweet! What? Was that the bro Oghene I knew?

“O’boy eh, who is that guy?” A feminine voice breathed behind me. 

I turned to see three ladies, each with a saucer and a fork, ready to pick some chops from themselves. 

“Which guy?” one of them asked.

“The one in a white Tee. Over there, he is standing with Nne and Rose,” The one that spoke first asked.

“Oh, That’s Oghene. My brother’s friend,” The youngest of them said with little interest while filling her saucer with puffs and samosas.

“Is he married?” The first-to-speak one asked.

“My dear, e reach to ask o. He dey enter my eye o,” the second one added with a giggle that I found rather infuriating. 

“Look at him...So cute

And just like that, my brain left me and started thinking wetin I no send am. For the first time in years, I saw him. I saw Oghene; his smile, his laughter, his eyes...oh, they were beautiful. And his skin, had they always been that smooth and rich brown and, and mehn...the guy fine sha.

“And look at those ladies, parading themselves around him as if he was some wife-hungry, womanizing skeeze, which he’s not by the way,” the youngest of the ladies behind me said with a puff in her mouth.

“I’d let him womanize me anyway, any day of the week.” the first one said.

Really? Did they know who he was—a mechanic with a thick Warri accent, a church boy who could be just too nice for them? “What a simp,” I muttered, not knowing if it was Jealousy that other women were finding him irresistible or because he was actually looking like a ready candy I’d love to pop into my mouth, that was making me burn inside. 

“He’s quite nice.” The young one who claimed he was her brother’s friend said. 

𝘉𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘦, I thought. And Oghene, no matter how cute he looked, was a biscuit. Not tough at all. I doubted if he could even handle a woman...like me. A woman like me.

Why did that even matter

Jesus, why was I imagining the both of us in a relationship?

“So, is he married?” The first-to-speak- one asked the younger one.

“No—”

“Yes—” I interrupted, shocking them and myself. “He’s married with six children. And his wife is currently pregnant. The doctor said she’s even carrying triplets. Triplet in her stomach.” The words rushed out of my mouth before I could get hold of myself. It was their uncomfortable silence that knocked the sense back into my head. The way they were looking at me, Ah! What was wrong with me?

“Eh, I didn’t know he’s married,” the youngest of them said carefully, still giving me a suspicious stare. “Chukwudi my brother didn’t tell me.”

“Oh, ehm...” Ifenkili. What the hell was wrong with you? What demon had just possessed you? “I mean... he...he...” Well, he was my church member and these ladies, had no good intention towards him. I knew their type, extravagant baddies in search of innocent men who would bankroll their lifestyles. Oghene wasn’t their kind of Guy. He was soft and, kind and always wanting to please ladies. He didn't even have money—the kind that would sponsor their frivolities. They would squeeze blood and water out of him.

“𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥?

𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦, 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦...𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘊𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵, 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵?

“𝘈 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶?”

𝘌𝘩𝘦𝘯, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘶𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭.

“Are you sure?” The first-to-speak one asked.

“Y-no. I don’t...excuse me,” I said, dropping the saucer in my hand and was about to walk off when my eyes caught his. He was looking at me, his lips curled in that shy, unsure smile I knew him with, and the next thing that happened shocked and worried me. It was like I was fainting in the middle of a desert, and he was my hallucination singing to me before I took my final breath. 

Jesus! Was I supposed to feel that way?

Impossible! Impossible!

Where was Preye sef?