What have you done. Seyi, my older sister’s words echo in me. I don’t have to look at her face to know the horror that lies on it. As the blood drips from the tip of the knife, landing on its victim, my father. So much happened in a flash. Just a minute ago, I was lying on my bed, clapping my hands to chase the mosquitos away while my youngest sister, Ife played with her wooden toys. It was.. is a sunny day. The heat cleared off the rain from last night’s heavy pour. Drying off the clothes on the clothes line that I forgot to take down. Then my father bursted through the house, demanding for my little sister. I couldn’t let him take her. I couldn’t.

‘Tola, what have you done?’ She repeats, her voice slow and motherly. Even though she is only five years my senior, she has been more of a mother and father than my little sister and I have ever had. Her golden blonde hair packed in Afro puffs while her hazel eyes stare in shock. None of us were a fan of our father. He accused my mother of sleeping with an oyinbo man just because of my older sister’s fair skin and eyes, ignoring their obvious similar features. He was a distant father even if he was always around. After losing his job, all he did was drink and drink until he was unconscious and we had to clean up the mess. I didn’t care for him. I lost all respect for him as soon as I turned 9, that was a long time ago. Seyi had, way before I could remember. Only Ife loved at him with all admirable adoration that an 8 years old girl would for her father. That’s why it hurts my heart that he is..was capable of marrying her off to some old disgusting man. ‘We have no one and it is left for us to look after each other,’ Seyi’s words rang in my ear when my father dragged my tiny hands like she was his mate out of the house. All I remember after that was red, a knife and the back of my father’s frame.

‘To..la,’ Ife’s stammering brings me out of my reverie. She is all curled up with some of the blood splattered on her already dirty clothes that I have told her to stop wearing. I immediately drop the knife and hurry to her side. She draws away from me with a fear that has been reserved for the monsters under her bed and I feel my heart stink. Am I a monster? ———————————————————————

‘Hold his leg together,’ Seyi says as the two of us struggle to turn over our father. I use all the strength I can muster and we finally do. We put him in a black cloth to cover all his body and dug up a very deep grave not far from our house to put him in. Thankfully, where our house is situated, not many people walk across and the sun had gone down, leaving the moon as our only light source. My eyes find Ife who seems to be using her toys to distract herself.

‘She will get over it,’ Seyi says, ‘you did what you had to do to protect her’. She clenches her knuckles. ‘I just wish I was there instead so you didn’t have to go through that yourself.’

‘You can’t blame yourself,’ I say softly and place my hand on her shoulder, feeling her tensed body.

‘And you can’t either but we can’t stay here any more. People will ask questions,’ she drops her shovel on the buried grave.

———————————————————————

‘Where will we go?’ I whisper not wanting to wake up Ife through our paper thin walls. I stare down at the bowl of water, seeing my face covered in his blood as Seyi brings the soapy sponge over my face and whips it.

‘There is a village nearby. When we reach there, we can think of a plan,’ I know Seyi does not know what to do but she continues to be strong as she cleans me up because I couldn’t. I feel like that vulnerable little girl again who still needs her mummy.

When we are all cleaned up, we pack all that we can. Begging Ife to stop crying for the toys she will leave behind. Just us sisters, after all we are all we need.

He was there. I thought he would become a distant memory. One that will be washed away with time. Never to be seen again. But here he was. Hands intertwined with his now bride, seated at the alter of the reception as they laughed at the jokes of the MC. Here, I was, stuck before I could properly enter the door. I shouldn’t be here. I didn’t want to be here in the first place, if it wasn’t for my mother who dragged me because weddings are the best places to meet future husbands. One step back, I say to myself as I attempt to walk out the entrance. Just before I can, the groom’s mother walks in, and we meet face to face.

‘Damilola, is that you?’ she says with a mixture of shock and excitement. Her gele is beautifully tied with her wearing probably the most detailed and expensive aso ebi. She has his eyes. Panic fills my heart when she grabs my arm and takes me farther from the exit. My attempted escape gone. Afro beats fill the air with songs ranging from Davido to Wizkid. Food decorated all around the white reception with people going for seconds. Normally at weddings, food is the only reason it is worth it going but that is far from my mind as I stand between his mother and my mother as they reminisce about old times and me.

‘I always thought you would marry my son, the way the two of you were so close from childhood,’ she shares a laughter with my mother as I fake a smile to hide my discomfort. Only if they knew how really close Chike and I were. Like a lot of Nigerian teens and young adults, we dated in secret. When we broke up, my mother was sick with worry and thought I had contacted a serious illness because of how weak and depressed I looked. I tried to hide the tears from her because I knew she would scold me if she found out. No boyfriends before marriage and no sex until children she said. I don’t know how she thinks that’s possible.

‘The two of you were attached to hip when you were young. What happened?’ Chike’s mother queried.

‘We just grew apart,’ I say through gritted teeth.

As time passes, all that I can think about is him. All the happy times we shared, sad times especially after his father passed away. We were always there for each other. We were each other’s first everything. I really thought we would get married when he told me. How foolish and naive I was. They say you never quite get over your first and I guess that saying is true for me. Jealousy mixed with Regret and topped off with what could have been fills me as the bride to be plays the MC games with her bride maids.

‘We will soon be going,’ my mum says when I asked her when we can leave. But minutes turned into hours. I continue tapping my feet nervously as every moment passes. The couple’s first dance. I cannot take this anymore, I tell myself and gather the courage to ask my mum if I can leave. At least she can’t say that I have not tried. As I tell her that I will call an Uber. With one hand tugging on the other arm, my eyes search for his. My chest grows tighter when he is no longer on the alter. Did he see me? The thought captures all that I can possibly think of. With the hundreds of guests here, I doubt he has noticed me.

I quickly grab my bag when my mum gives me the green light and I rush to the door despite the number of people I bump into. I need to get out of here. My Uber messages me that he has arrived when I am finally out the door. I breathe a sigh of relief when the fresh air hits me.

We did not entirely end on bad terms but the fear of feeling the way I did for him scared me. I still cared about him and want him to be happy but I don’t have to be there for it. It is better if we both out of each other’s lives.

‘Leaving so soon,’ the all familiar voice says when I turn to face him. ‘Hey’.

‘Hey’.

Arike’s point of view

8:59pm

Yep, my life is officially over. As I stare down from my school’s rooftop, my life flashes before my eyes. I guess the saying is true after all when you feel like you might as well be dead. That your life is never going to be quite the same again. Not physically though because it’s not my body bleeding out on the pavement. That would be Deji. My eyes don’t move from the gory site. I was the last person to be seen publicly before his fall. God, maybe he is alive. I wipe my glasses with the end tip of my uniform white shirt. Wiping off a strain of blood and I quickly tuck in my shirt. I hear someone running and turn back, adjusting my glasses closer when the rooftop door barges opens. Be calm I tell myself.

———————————————————————

Samuel’s point of view

9:03

I rush through the door, my knee hitting the parapet walls when I make contact. My shaky hands slam against the surface for support as I look down at Deji’s body. The whole ground filled with his blood which doesn’t seem to end.

‘He is definitely dead,’ a soft spoken voice says. I almost forgot someone was standing there when I came in. I would have hardly felt she was there based on how till she was. She bites her lips as she plays with her necklace which has her name.

‘Arike, what are you doing here?’ I say, my voice giving out a surprised and almost accusatory tone.

‘I came to get some fresh air’, she says, her voice so calm as if she didn’t just see a dead body. ‘Before I knew it, he was on the ground. Should.. we call the police?’

My body freezes for a moment and I notice I have not said a word until Arike repeats the question.

I take a moment to gather myself. ‘Yeah, we should’. I reach into my pocket and notice my phone gone. I search my other pocket and feel nothing. I feel Arike’s brown eyes on me as panic fills my eyes when I remember who has it.

———————————————————————

Chioma’s point of view

9:30pm

I walk out into the compound of school from my hostel upstairs. I came as quickly as possible when I got a call from Samuel using Arike’s phone. I didn’t know the two of them even spoke to each other. I came out with only a camisole and shorts even with the cold weather because I was told it was urgent.

‘I told you not to call me unless the school is on fire or someone is dying. I stop dead in my tracks when I see what had unfolded. ‘Oh my God,’ I scream when I see Deji’s body. Arike, Samuel and Ayo stand next to each other. The boys towering over her.

‘At least we have a valid reason,’ Arike says.

I look at them and back at the floor in shock. I feel as powerless as I did earlier today with Deji. ‘Oh God, not again’.

‘Not again,’ Ayo, the transfer student shouts. ‘You mean this has happened before. I am so dead.’ He repeats over and over again as he paces around.

‘What do we do?’ I look up to them for answers as I dig my nails into my skin. Trying to stay composed but I don’t think look it.

‘We do nothing,’ Arike says with a calm demonur. ‘We go back to our hostels as quietly as we can. When the police comes, we say nothing.’

I want to add something but I keep my mouth shut. Too stunned to speak any further.

‘Not a word,’ she says and with our silence taken as agreement.