Disclaimer: the story deals with mature 18+ themes. Photo credit: Getty Images.
"I think Chudi is cheating on me."
I froze.
Conversations with Nenye were always full of twists and turns. You could be discussing something as mundane as a celebrity’s outfit fail or the latest Twitter argument. Then, the next minute the conversation had shifted to the rise of military coups in Africa or genocides and wars happening around the world.
My best friend’s mind was a deep void I hadn’t fully explored, even after fifteen years of friendship. I mean, barely ten minutes ago our conversation centred around who the next housemate to be evicted from the Big Brother house would be. Casually dropping bombshells in normal conversation was her forte. It was one of my favourite things about her.
Unluckily for me this time, her statement left me in stunned silence. Nothing in the world could have prepared me for how the conversation went.
"What?!" I choked. "Why ... why would you even think that?"
My voice came out squeaky, the way it did whenever I was tense. I prayed she didn't notice.
She sighed deeply. "I don't know."
Her gaze shifted from me to her hands. She was twiddling with her fingers, picking off her red nail polish.
"I'm having this itch. Something's not right. You know I'm hardly wrong about these things."
I remained silent.
"It's a curse." She continued. "Being so perceptive. Sometimes you'll find what you're looking for and wish you never discovered it."
I shifted on the floor, my back resting on the couch. My stout hairy legs spread sprawled in front of me. I scowled at a mosquito bite on my right thigh. It had created a reddish protrusion. I fingered it gingerly, it needed a dab of aloe vera gel. Nenye sat on the sofa, the only other sitting space in my living room.
We were physical contrasts; I was light-skinned with curly black hair that I maintained in a small afro. No matter how many mounds of eba or fufu I swallowed, I remained scrawny, much to the disappointment of my mother. (eba and fufu are Nigerian dishes made from processed cassava grains, eaten with soups. They have high starch contents and can lead to weight gain)
Nenye had beautiful ebony skin, was a whole foot taller than me, and had ample curves. All the dieting and waist trainers had been unsuccessful in bringing down her waistline. That was where our differences ended. We were both vain, I about my skin, she about her thick, luscious hair. We were both self-conscious and insecure. We were always unlucky in love, most of our sleepovers consisted trading horror stories from dating Lagos men. Well, for the past four years I had been the only one with horror stories.
In primary school our classmates called us boy-girl and orobo (orobo is a degratory name for a plus-sized person). The boy who no amount of flogging and jeers could make him stop walking like a girl. The girl who was the biggest in the class. The boy who never wanted to play football because he didn't want to get injuries and damage his skin. The girl who always went home with her uniform dirty and torn.
I had my own way of keeping my bullies at bay. During break time, I handed Okey and his friends my lunchbox and they let me be after some threats and insults. I survived like that till primary three. That fateful day, Aunty Dorcas was in a hurry and forgot to pack my snacks. I avoided my bullies till they caught me hiding under the swings at closing time. After discovering the empty lunch box, they proceeded to beat the hell out of me as much as their little fists would allow. I lay crying on the floor when suddenly they were lifted off me.
I'll never forget seeing my hero sitting on top of Okey and farting in his face. Nobody ever bothered me again.
She was the first person I came out to. All my life, I was told I was not a normal boy. Normal boys didn’t cry; they didn’t want to play with Barbie dolls or care so much about their skin or being neat. It wasn't until I saw Taylor Lautner shirtless in Twilight I fully understood I held zero attraction for women.
A pillow came flying at me and jolted me out of my reverie.
"What are you thinking about?" Nenye asked.
"Our beautiful friendship." She rolled her eyes. "We're discussing something important here Doyele. Focus."
"Come here." It wasn't a request.
Reluctantly, I dropped the remote and shuffled the short distance to meet her.She patted the space beside her.
"Sit." She turned to me and held my face in a tight grip. I could smell the coconut oil she always slathered on her skin.
"Has Chudi mentioned any girl lately?"
"Is there any babe coming to his place a lot?"
"Yes."
"Wait. WHAT?!" She dropped her hands.
"Thank you." I glared at her while massaging my neck.
"There's a girl he talks about ALL the goddam time. And yes the same girl keeps coming to his place. She even stays over during the weekends to fornicate. The girl is sitting opposite me on this sofa, in my own house, asking me stupid questions."
She sighed.
"The girl just attempted to break my neck. In case it wasn’t obvious." I grumbled.
"Oh please!" At my glare she grinned and blew me a kiss.
I sighed. "Look Nenye. Chudi is in love with you." I tried not to wince as I spoke.
"That guy is crazy about you. I don't even know where you're getting these ideas from. Your wedding is three months away."
"Yeah." She sighed."Good. Focus on that."
"I can't. I've been having this itch for a while now. I have to be sure, don't you get? I can't marry him if I'm not sure where his heart is." She said.
"Do you really think if Chudi was cheating on you and I was aware you'll just be hearing of it?" I deadpanned.
She looked at me. "Hmm. True. You would have called me with evidence, ASAP."
"You get."
"We would have dealt with him."
"He's my next-door neighbour. There are plenty of things I could have done. I mean, relax."
"You're right." She replied, nodding. "Just need to get it out of my head. Thanks."
"What are friends for?" I winked.
"Oh come here." She opened her hands and enveloped me in a hug.
I felt eyes on me and opened my eyes warily to find Chudi staring at us from the kitchen. Nenye always warned me about locking the door. As quietly as he had come in, he was gone.