Song- 'Ire' by Adekunle Gold (attached above).
One year later...
Maduka's POV~
"Sir, look this way, please."
I obey the photographer, turning my head in his direction and giving a small smile. Hearing a series of clicks, my smile falters immediately, but seeing Agatha giving me a thumbs up from behind the man makes me rearrange my face.
"That will be all, right?" Agatha asks him.
"Yes, madam." He turns to me, looking excited, and says, "I'm grateful you could grant us an interview. The National team can't wait for tomorrow's papers."
We exchange handshakes and he leaves with his crew of about five people.
"I'm glad that's done," I say, loosening my tie the moment the last crew member shuts my door.
"They've been reaching out to you for months, Maduka. The National is one of the leading newspapers in Nigeria. I can't believe you simply ignored their requests because you're not in the mood!"
I sigh and move to my fridge for a bottle of water before settling on the couch in the sitting area of my newly refurbished office. The past year has been good to me, bringing in more profits than I expected. My fame has taken me from one conference to another as an honoured guest, giving me the opportunity to travel to different countries, especially in Africa. I am still jet lagged from my return from South Africa the previous day.
"What's wrong, Maduka? Are you okay?"
"Yes. Just really tired."
"You have the whole day off now. Go and rest, workaholic. You're doing a lot."
I give her a side look. "Says the person who dragged me out of my house for an interview by 9:00am today."
"You have to admit that was long overdue na."
I sigh again.
"You've sighed like twenty times now."
"Really?"
"Yes. Really. Something's upsetting you."
"Agatha, discussing it makes me uncomfortable."
"It's Nwanyieze. It's been Nwanyieze for a year now."
"I can't help it. Everyday, I wonder how she's doing. I wonder if she's alright. I have searched for her. Her guardian has moved out from Shomolu. I can't find her on social media. Agatha..." I notice the look on her face and trail off. "I'm sorry this is not what you want to listen to."
Although she insists that she's fine with being friends, it is clear that she is harbouring hope that I will one day take up a romantic relationship with her. I have been completely honest with her about that aspect, and while I enjoy her company on a platonic basis, I was willing to end everything if she felt too uncomfortable with me because of rejection. But Agatha had been persistent- although she reduced the phone calls, visits and outings.
"Have I ever complained?" She asks with a bright smile.
"It feels unfair," I murmur.
She shrugs and picks up her bag from my desk. "Life is never always fair. I have an appointment on the island. See you when I see you, Farmer."
The nickname always makes me laugh. With a kiss on my cheek, she departs in an apparent haste, which I know has been facilitated by my mentioning of Nwanyieze.
But where is she, though?
I have searched on all social media platforms I can think of but they have proved abortive. I had hoped that one day, she would reach out...but that hasn't happened.
What would you do, if you saw her now?
Funny thing, I don't know.
Jide had mentioned something about Saheed still being in Lagos the last time I asked. He'd also mentioned, in passing, that Nwanyieze and Saheed were no more together.
To say I had been surprised is an understatement. I had let out a small laugh in that moment, and Jide had watched me like I was crazy. It wasn't humour, I wasn't happy about the turn of events, I wasn't displaying any E.P.-- enemy of progress-- characteristics. I was just not expecting it, even though I knew their relationship was ill-fated from the start. I knew she would take out her pain on him, even though she probably didn't intend to. I knew he would try to possess her in every way possible, and that their wills would clash often. I also knew, that she would never love him.
How did I know?
Maktub.
The past year has been a busy one for me. It has also been emotionally challenging, with having my parents and older siblings feel betrayed that I didn't inform them about my decision to re-establish relations with my family in Imo State. Only Somto had stood by me. My parents had been shocked to hear that I actually knew my first home, and it had taken them a significant amount of time to recover from my story.
And then there were questions about Nwanyieze and how she had fit into all of this, because her name kept popping up in the story...and I didn't feel the time was right to explain to them who she was...
I used to be a prostitute. In modern language, I'm a hoe... I sold myself. I accepted it as a part of my life... Until I met you.
I can never forget the look in Mama Uju's eyes the next day when I had showed up. There had been a deep sadness there, shame, and pain. She'd hidden Adanna behind her, stopping the little girl from running towards me even though Adanna had insisted. While I had known deep down but never thought of it, it dawned on me that Adanna, the biracial cherub, was born through an illegitimate union with an already married man.
I had stared at her for a few moments, wishing I could offer comfort. Reeling from the events of the previous night, I still felt compassion that these beautiful people resorted to such means of survival.
"She came back and left last night," she had croaked. I could tell that she'd been crying. Her face was puffy and her eyes were red.
"Do you know if she'll be back soon?"
She had moved her head from side to side. "Wait here."
Dragging a confused Adanna with her, she disappeared into the flat for a few seconds. I stood right there, knowing I was no longer welcomed. She emerged after a few seconds, holding a white box. It was the box that Nwanyieze's cell phone came in when I had bought it for her.
"She...she said I should give you this. She said thank you."
"Mama-"
"I don't know where she is. She doesn't deserve this, she doesn't deserve everything that's happened to her. She's a good girl, but...she's done bad things...we've done bad things."
Before I could speak, Mama Uju retreated, saying, "Thank you for being a good man, Maduka. It's better you move on."
I don't remember how long I had remained standing after she had shut the door in my face, tightly holding the box. I don't even remember the drive to Jide's place where I had spent the whole day, watching his television without the volume turned on. It was when he had tapped me for the third time and said I had been sitting still for most of the day that I, surprised, had automatically gotten up and left without saying good bye.
Jide had called after me, but he knew I preferred to be left alone.
They say Lagos can be a small place, that you might be fortunate enough to see a person twice anywhere in Lagos.
I wasn't fortunate enough. I never saw Nwanyieze anywhere, or Mama Uju. It was like they had vanished into thin air.
Lagos is actually big. Very big, I had thought while sitting in my car on one of my search missions and chewing spicy plantain chips. Searching proved to be useless...and so I threw myself into my work at full steam. Despite my busy schedule, my fame caused a temporary descent into a place where I began to seek sexual pleasures, and with female admirers coming along the way, a few flings had occurred here and there. Nothing serious, really.
Nwanyieze is not coming back.
You might be wondering, why not Agatha?
Anything with Agatha, apart from friendship, will result in complications. Why? Because she already has feelings for me and has been in close proximity with me for over a year. Getting into bed with her will turn messy after one night of pleasure. The women I have been with had agreed it was with no strings attached, and that had gone well for me. Mutual satisfaction, and we had been on our own different ways.
My phone rings and I answer.
"I haven't seen you in weeks. Are you okay?"
My lips curve into an involuntary smile. "Somto, I'm alright."
"Mum is really worried about you. You keep postponing your visits to them."
"Work, you know."
"Maduka, you used to visit at least every week. I'm sorry to break it to you, but ever since you got back from your village, you changed. It's like-"
"Don't say that," I growl.
"It's like you don't see Mum and Dad as your parents anymore!"
An uncomfortable silence follows. It feels like I've been slapped. A colossal wave of sadness washes over me.
"How could you, Somto?" I whisper. "I would never."
"I'm not the only one who thinks so. Chijioke, Amara, Obinna...we discussed this. I understand it's your life, you've got a job and you're always busy, but we're still here. If something is bothering you, we're here, Maduka."
I find myself looking back on the last time I had seen my parents, with their greying hair and rectangular spectacles, their contented smiles. When last did I hear Dad's deep laughter and eat Mum's jollof rice and dodo? How are my nieces and nephews?
"I'm sorry," I blurt. I hear a small beep, followed by a sigh from Somto.
"Wait, Amara is calling me. I'll call you back later ok?"
"Okay."
She clicks off, and I sit on my couch, brooding over how I have become a neglectful son, brother, and uncle to my family. Had I been so consumed in my misery that I hadn't stopped to think about those who still needed me? Was that what they thought, that I didn't see them as family anymore? I'd never thought of that!
My phone rings again and I answer. This time, Somto sounds hysterical.
"Dad had a heart attack a few hours ago."
I rise to my feet so fast, it leaves me a bit dizzy because I haven't had anything to eat since yesterday afternoon. "Where is he? How is he? Somto, don't start crying now- tell me!"
She blurts out the name of the hospital and tells me she is also on her way before clicking off.
Agony, I repeat over and over in my head while driving to the hospital. The late afternoon traffic is crawling, because the average worker dismisses between four and five o'clock. I want to get out of my car and scream profanities at everyone with ears, at the Danfo driver trying to get into my lane, at the driver behind me who won't stop blaring his horn, at the oversabi Federal Road Safety Commission officer ahead, standing at the junction and signalling with his whole body on who should move and who shouldn't.
How is he now? I keep asking myself. My car feels like a carton, growing smaller by the second and getting hotter. I hear a pounding in my ears, feel my skin start burning slowly, and stare at my hands as they shake on the steering wheel. Breathing becomes a chore as my chest feels tighter.
Dad. Dad is dying. No goodbyes, just like Papa. He might be gone like that, poof. It will be your fault. Everyone will look at you differently.
I know these are irrational thoughts, but getting them out of my head is impossible. Thankfully, the traffic clears up a bit and it takes me fifteen minutes to drive to the hospital.
I meet my siblings in the waiting room, sitting solemnly. The way I burst in startles them.
"Where is he?" I demand.
"Emergency room," Obinna replies, getting to his feet. He walks up to me, a challenge in his eyes. "Did Mr. Big Shot finally decide to show up?"
"Obi, not now," Amara calls from the circle of her husband's arms at one of the corners of the room. Her eyes are red and swollen from crying. I notice that she is heavily pregnant and another wave of shame hits me, that I had never called to ask how she was faring.
"Somebody has to let him know," Obinna protests.
"We won't do this today," I tell my brother.
"We probably should. Who knows when next we might see you?"
Another invisible slap. "Obinna, I didn't mean-"
"Of course. You found your 'roots'- no, you dug them up. Then you became famous, and suddenly you're missing our calls and not returning them. Not being around when we visit or returning our visits, either. What do we make of that, brother?"
I turn away from him, realising my selfishness. But Obinna grabs my shoulder and forces me to face him, to face the rest of my family. They watch with wide eyes, wanting to hear what I have to say: Somto, holding Noel who is fast asleep in her arms; Adrian protectively cradling Amara with her head resting on his shoulder; Chijioke leaning forward in his chair, eyes intensely focused on me.
I lower my head. My throat is clogged all of a sudden. To my surprise, Obinna pushes me backwards. I react without thinking, purely on instinct and with a need to vent my frustration. My fist flies out and connects with my brother's jaw.
Obinna laughs, but I can tell he is equally shocked. When I look up from staring at my own fist in amazement, my mouth opens to form an apology. But before I know it he charges into me, using his head to deliver a blow to my torso and sending both of us to the floor. My breath leaves me in a whoosh.
"Stop it!"
We both look up to see Amara standing over us, hands on her waist to support her bulging belly. Adrian stands behind her, worry in his eyes and his hands stretched out in front of him towards his wife.
"I am ashamed of you two!" Amara hisses at us.
"Darling, don't stress yourself," Adrian pleads.
"Adrian, I am not an invalid; I'm just pregnant," she tells him over her shoulder before facing us.
"Right now, we need to be strong for Mum and Dad. Not to fight amongst ourselves like children!"
"I'm sorry," Obinna says, releasing me and rising to his feet.
I lie there, grinding my teeth and wishing for the pounding headache disturbing me to disappear. Obinna stretches out a hand to me. I take it and he helps me up.
"Are you okay?" He questions.
"I'll live," I reply. "And I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry, too. We missed you."
A nurse interrupts us by walking in and asking for "Kaka."
"Me," I croak.
"Your parents want to see you. Please follow me."
I give one last look to my siblings before following the middle-aged woman. My parents are in a private room, with Dad hooked to a heart monitor. The sound of his laughter greets me and I pause for a moment at the door, watching him look up adoringly at Mum, who is also laughing while wiping tears from her eyes. She is seated at his bedside, holding his hand.
"Look at this one," Dad speaks, taking notice of me. He looks tired and thinner, but it doesn't stop him from stretching out a hand for me to hold.
My feet carry me closer to them, and I grip his hand fiercely.
I'm such an idiot, I think while struggling to speak. Before I know it, I'm heaving with heavy sobs. I'm unable to shake off my shame at being derelict towards them.
"Ahn-ahn, but I didn't die," Dad says, amused.
Mum's hand caresses my back. Her warmth feels so good, I wonder how I never felt the need to seek her comfort these past months. "He'll be fine, Kaka. Stop crying."
"You heard your mother. I'll be fine, because I have her."
Mum chuckles. "You're not going anywhere, so long as I'm here."
"I'm sorry," I tell them. "I have been a terrible son."
"Maduka, I understand you must be going through a lot. But you know, you don't have to go through it alone. Your mother and I...when we wanted to adopt a child, we agreed on an older child because we knew most people preferred babies and toddlers. We wanted to give an older child a chance. And we didn't regret it," Dad says seriously.
"You have been an angel," Mum adds, gently brushing my tears away with her thumb, just like she used to do so back when I was younger. "You're our son. Maybe not biological, but nothing less than our child. We are happy you have found your family in Imo, too. We want you to know we're always going to think of you as one of us."
"I didn't mean to make you think I was withdrawing from you. I got carried away. I was so foolish."
"We are all foolish at many points in our lives. What matters is that we make amends." Dad pats my shoulder. He yawns, a sign of exhaustion.
"You should get some sleep, nke m," Mum tells him. "I'll deal with the others."
"You should sleep too, nke m," he replies with another yawn.
"I will. But sleep first."
To me, he says, "Kaka, eat and rest. You look like you got into a fight."
That makes me laugh. A few minutes pass and Dad is snoring peacefully.
"Come, let's go and speak with your siblings," Mum says, reaching for my hand. "They have missed you, too."
"Yes, and Obinna showed me just how much," I joke.
During the short walk to the waiting room, I mull over the events of the past year and today. Seeing my parents laughing despite the threat to Dad's health had reminded me of the importance of spending your life with worthy people, people who will hold you down no matter the circumstances. It doesn't matter that the world will probably think otherwise of you or them, but it matters the most that at the end of the day, you have someone beside you who knows when to be strong on your behalf.
Mum squeezes me hand and I reciprocate. "I love you, Kaka. Holding Daddy in my arms after he fell when the heart attack started, it scared the living daylights out of me. My mind went far, wondering how I would cope without him. I'm happy he lived through this, and I've realised that now I might have to be stronger than I ever was, for all our sakes. So I'll advise you to go for what makes you happy, because life is too short to deprive yourself. I'd choose that man over and over again if I had the chance. He's my happiness."
"I love you, Mum. Thank you." I study her face, brown and smooth with fine wrinkles from ageing. But her smile is the same, like it had been when she had held my hand at the orphanage the first time we had met, and transferred her warmth to me.
And just as I had allowed her to lead me away from the orphanage to her home, I allow her to lead me into the waiting room, where I will tender my heartfelt apologies to the rest of my family.
And it's time to continue the search for my happiness.
A/N: Hello! Happy workers' day! It's been a while. I missed you guys. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It takes place a year after the last chapter. Don't forget to vote oh! Xx