Maduka's POV~
Lost Treasure.
Lost Treasure is an anonymous blogger who has been on the Lagos scene for a while now, showcasing vibrant and realistic photographs of everyday Lagos life, from the watery slums of Makoko to the bustling, crammed streets of Balogun Market, and the writhing bodies of dancers in flashing neon lights during night parties in numerous clubs.
Her write ups have a way of striking a chord in me each time I read them, because I see honesty in them. Agatha had introduced me to the blog, and after reading one of her humorous pieces on living in Abuja, I was hooked. She was witty, with a hint of sarcasm and a way of exaggerating things in a very interesting way.
But it is her latest piece, Memoirs of the Men Who Loved Me, that blows me away. She writes about three men, who loved her in three different ways, and how these different shades of love almost ruined her but also strengthened her.
It reminded me, of the night Nwanyieze had revealed to me that she had been victimized in such a horrible manner, it had scarred her.
"You're not done reading that piece?"
"I am," I say, looking up from my phone to where Agatha perches on my desk, her legs dangling a few inches from the floor.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" She asks.
"Yes. And sad, too. It's almost like you can feel her pain."
"Something must have hurt her real bad. You can't create such beauty without pain, Maduka. At least not like this."
I enjoy analysing with Agatha; she has a sharp mind and can provide so much insight. The piece we are talking about is the latest post by Lost Treasure about lost trust, descent into darkness, love, and destruction of the last shred of morality in a bid to stop feeling. At the end, the author wonders if there is any hope for her.
Why does it sound familiar?
Agatha adjusts her spectacles, the same gold-rimmed ones from last year. "If you're not busy, we could have lunch at The Place. You know how delicious their food is."
"I don't feel like having lunch outside today."
"Then we'll order lunch. Choose your vendor."
"You know, I'm not hungry."
Agatha raises her brows at me, a sign that her patience is running out. "Maduka, you just signed a multimillion Naira deal and you have the effort to say you're not hungry? At least celebrate with some snacks."
"Small chops, then. Let me order for them."
She smiles sweetly. "That's the spirit, Farmer."
I move closer to the desk so I can pick up my wallet which contains my cards. Agatha reaches for the wallet at that moment and our hands touch.
"My bad," she says softly, withdrawing her hand immediately like I've burned her.
"That's fine," I tell her with a smile.
"Maduka, could you please do me a favour?"
"What's that, Agatha?"
"A kiss," is what she says after a long pause.
Oh, wow.
I know that after our kiss last year, she's been walking on eggshells around me, trying not to initiate any type of intimate contact. It makes me guilty that I am unable to reciprocate her feelings, and I have been dreading the day we might stop being friends because of this.
"That sounds like a bad idea."
"It is not a bad idea because it's all I can think of right now while you feel nothing. I've always wondered, what I'd feel if we kissed again."
"Agatha-"
"Please. It's not like you're cheating on anyone exactly."
She sits up expectantly while I move closer to her with deliberate steps. Her eyes are bright with anticipation.
"Agatha, I didn't lead you on," I state. "I'm only trying to satisfy you, and I don't expect to gain anything from this."
"I know," she breathes, eyes wide behind her spectacles. Her legs open, creating a space for me to stand between them. I'm rather thankful she is wearing a jumpsuit today, because I don't want to place my discipline under any form pressure.
"And I'm not sure our relationship will ever remain the same after this."
"I know," she repeats. Her hands grab the front of my shirt, pulling me down towards her. Before our lips touch, her eyes roam over my face, like she is trying to memorize something. With a sigh, Agatha closes in.
The contact is pleasant, warm and soft and wet. She moves forward on the desk, so her legs wrap around my waist, locking me in place.
Such close contact, I think while our lips move in synchronisation and she grinds against me in a slow motion. She moans when my tongue enters her mouth, arches her body towards mine, and grips my shoulders so tight I know that her nails will leave temporary dents in my skin.
It does feel good.
She gasps when my hand squeezes the side of her waist.
It would be easy, so easy, to take what she's offering.
I am equally aroused, and I see this as a cue to withdraw before I make a mistake I might regret.
"Wait," she pleads, her arms flying around my neck. I freeze and allow her to rest her head on my chest, her breathing heavy. After a few moments, she sighs yet again.
"Are you okay?"
"No."
"This was a bad idea."
"This is the best idea I've come up with all week."
Typical Agatha, I think with a rueful smile.
"Agatha, we can't-"
"Be friends, I know. How can we be so close and yet so far? I admire your discipline, Maduka. Any woman would be blessed to have you."
"Any man would be blessed to have you."
A small, ironic laugh. "And we can't 'bless' each other."
"No, we can't."
When she withdraws and looks up at me, her eyes are full of sadness. "The media will have fun writing about us when they don't see us at events together."
Despite our previous denials, the media- and their followers- thinks we are dating because apparently we 'look good together.' Our absence of 'PDA' or public display of affection has been attributed to the fact that we are a 'conservative' couple. There have even been speculations on our sex life. We have given up on trying to vindicate ourselves.
I sigh. "It's for both our sakes."
She nods in agreement. "I sincerely hope you find who you're looking for." Her grip on me loosens.
"Thank you." I smile at her and slowly move backwards, hoping that my arousal has faded.
Still standing, I watch her pick up her bag. "I look forward to seeing you at our usual conferences and other events. Please, don't avoid them because of me. I wish I could control these...feelings."
"Agatha, I would never avoid them because of you. You're my friend..."
"Only more distant now." She smiles and shakes her head. "I'll still send you the lunch, only you'll have to eat it alone."
"I'll take it home for dinner. Agatha?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you for understanding."
She shrugs and nods. With a peck on my cheek, Agatha walks out of my office, leaving me feeling sad but glad that this has finally happened.
*
"This Lost Treasure lady, she's too good oh," Amara tells me with a laugh. "And it's pretty cool that she has an account on Wetin now."
"Really?" I make a mental note to follow her on Wetin so I can view her posts.
Wetin is one of the most popular social media platforms in Nigeria now, an application created by a group of Nigerian software developers from Ebonyi State. Meaning "What" in Nigerian pidgin, it came into existence two years ago.
Maybe I'll get to see the face behind the personality. "What has she posted today?" I ask her, my eyes fixed on my youngest niece, who is quickly draining a feeding bottle filled with milk. I have been visiting my sister more frequently since she gave birth, because holding my niece has a calming effect on me.
"She's talking about living the fake life in Lagos. It's hilarious, but very true. In fact, she is shaking a lot of tables today."
"I hope they don't break. Amara, how can this baby finish the milk so fast, eh?"
Amara laughs. "This one? She wants to suck me dry. Isn't that so, Mama?" She tries to take three-month-old Ola out of my arms, but I protest and shift away from her on the couch.
"Let me bond with my niece, na."
"Maduka, the only time you think bonding is enough is when she poops." Amara rolls her eyes. "Maybe you'll change her diapers today, ba?"
"Erm, no." I look down again at the precious bundle in my arms. She is a light caramel colour with pink cheeks, dark brown eyes, and short ringlets of brown hair. And she smells heavenly, feels soft and delicate in my arms, and makes me suddenly want to have a--
"You know you've got baby fever written all over you, right?"
"What? Me? No," I deny. But the smile on my face gives me away. "She's perfect, Amara. So beautiful."
"She's smitten by you," my sister says softly, her eyes shining with love. "You're her best uncle already."
Holding Ola takes me back to decades ago, when a boy had found a baby girl in the trash and felt like he'd found the greatest treasure ever.
"So innocent," I whisper, suddenly overcome by emotions I cannot describe. Ola gurgles, and a drop of milk seeps out from the corner of her little mouth. I remember that I have to burp her and I do that gently, holding her against my chest with her chin on my shoulder. After a few pats, she makes a low sound and I smile.
"There you go, little one."
"You'd make a very good Daddy," Amara compliments me.
"And eye bags like yours would look so good on me, right?"
"Adrian is trying to catch some sleep. He was up all night, too. It will get better."
"Yes, it will." I feel warm liquid running down my shoulder and sigh. "Amara, your baby just threw up on me."
My sister bursts into a fit of laughter. "Maduka, Ola has blessed you. Whatever you really need, be sure you'll get it soon!"
"Oh, she can throw up on me all day, then," I joke. "Because I need all the blessings I can get."
*
"It's Temi. Queen's friend."
"What a surprise." I sit up on the couch in my sitting room, phone plastered to my ear, my work forgotten.
I had met her only once, and that had been at Tasha's party over a year ago. I don't remember what she had been wearing and I don't think I'd recognise her if we ever met again. But I believe it's her, because she'd called her Queen, just like Saheed. Queen must have been Nwanyieze's 'other' name, to protect her identity and make her name easier to pronounce in Yoruba land.
However, for certainty, I ask, "Where have we met, and what happened when we met?"
"We met at Tasha's party, and that was the last time you ever saw Queen. She screamed at you."
The memory of that scream is burned into my mind like a brand. It still leaves a bitter taste in my mouth till date.
"Don't ask how I got your number, please," she begs.
"Okay, I won't. How are you, Temi? Like how are you for real?" If I remember correctly, Nwanyieze had mentioned that she had worked with Temi...
She gives a small laugh. "I'm very fine. I now attend university. I'm no longer...you know."
"Oh," I say, pleasantly surprised. "That's wonderful. Congratulations."
"Thank you. Queen helped me pull through. I owe her."
My heart jumps to my mouth. "You...you still keep in touch with her?"
"Yes. She's doing well, too. She finished her Youth Service a while ago."
It feels like my mouth contains a huge ball of cotton. "That...That is good to know."
Temi pauses. "She told me she loved you."
I hold my breath. Temi falters, obviously rethinking about her actions. But she decides to go on, because she adds, "I mean, I'm not- I'm not supposed to have this conversation with you, but I know Queen personally and she warned me to never mention you..."
"Go on, Temi."
"I wondered why she never showed up on the streets after Saheed's pool party. Now I know it was because of you. And what she told me that night after Tasha's party... I'm sorry you had to go through that."
I have come to terms with the fact that Nwanyieze did love me; if she could sacrifice her time and stick with me after the poison scare at my village, then it was real. With her, all my problems just seemed to melt away. Everything that had happened between us...the way she always seemed to know what to do to make me feel better...
Temi can lead me to her. She knows where Nwanyieze is. But why is she reaching out after so long?
My need to see Nwanyieze intensifies, manifesting physically as an increase in my heartbeat and a shuffling of my feet. They begin to carry me around my sitting room.
"I'm risking my friendship with her," Temi tells me slowly. "She told me she doesn't think you'll ever want to see her again, because of all that has happened. Just tell me, confirm it, so we can forget about this phone call and move on."
By 'all' I know she also means Saheed and the short-lived relationship he had with Nwanyieze. It had hurt, but I haven't exactly been a loner, either.
"Temi, I've been searching the whole time," I confess.
She doesn't speak for a few moments, and this makes me say, "Hello?" just to be sure she is still on the line.
"I'm still here."
"I know a part of you is regretting this. But you got my number, anyways, and called me."
"I just want you to know...that she was never playing you. Being a former prostitute, I understand how society views people like us. Many of us are not strong and patient enough to work like the rest of you to survive... So our feelings don't matter because we are just vessels for satisfaction... She thought you would treat her the same way if you ever found out about her past."
"I understand, Temi. It hasn't been easy, coming to terms with that. But you see, I knew Nwanyieze--Queen-- from way back, even before the pool party."
A small pause, and then: "Oh. Sorry, my airtime is almost finished."
"I'll call you back right now," I almost exclaim hurriedly. Clicking off immediately, I try to dial her line and almost throw my phone against the wall in a fit of anger, allowing a string of swear words to escape from my lips.
She called with a private number. I didn't even remember.
Over the next few days, I wait anxiously for Temi's phone call. Each time my cell phone rings, I grab it, hoping it is Temi calling.
"Temi!" I had said one time, not bothering to check the caller ID.
"Onye bu kwa Temi?" Somto had asked from the other end of the line, laughing.
My hopes are always dashed.
Temi's words keep playing in my head:
I wondered why she never showed up on the streets after Saheed's pool party... Now I know it was because of you. I just want you to know...that she was never playing you.
I had been furious that night among other things... But I had never wanted her gone. If I had known that she would disappear so suddenly, I would have followed her immediately. I wouldn't have let her scream stop me. I can't imagine how ashamed she had been, how it must have affected her so badly that she just vanished for my sake.
She creeps back into my dreams with a vengance, wearing her yellow sundress and puffy afro, beckoning to me with a smile on her face. Sometimes, she wears that old shirt of mine and my socks and lies in my arms, giggling. And I wake up disappointed.
Of course, I know things will never be the same if we ever meet again. A lot can happen in a year. There are endless possibilities about an individual's state of mind after a year of experiences. I know I have changed, even if I can't pinpoint these exact changes.
You must be even more beautiful now, Nwanyieze. Stronger, I'm sure. Driven. What have you been up to? Do you have a job now, or are you into writing? Remember your plans for the future, about your dream to publish a magazine and tell your story along with the stories of thousands of other women?
Temi's call had been an indicator that Nwanyieze is not...currently in a relationship. I mean, she wouldn't think of calling me if she had no expectation of the both of us ever--
It scares me to even hope further. A sudden wave of doubt almost cripples me, makes me lose appetite, makes me lose concentration.
What if she has moved on without you?
"Nwanyieze, no matter the circumstances... I need closure. I want you to know that I bear no grudge against you. I was hurt, I was really angry, I felt stupid, I was unsure if your feelings for me were genuine, " I rehearse in front of my bathroom mirror, tooth brush in hand during one of those agonizing few days of waiting for Temi to change her mind. "I miss you. I still love you."
But what if she has a lover that Temi doesn't know about? What would you say then?
Jealousy isn't something I've felt in ages. The feeling creeps up, foreign to me after more than a year.
"I'm happy that you've moved on... I wish things had been different... Damn. You're lying, Maduka."
What if she backs away again? Doesn't want to see or hear from you?
"I understand your choice. So long as you believe I never thought anything bad of you... But I still love you. Please let's do this again."
And if she still says no?
"I wish you all the best, Nwanyieze." I shake my head vigorously. "No, she can't say no."
Temi said she loved me. What if she still does? How will I know if I don't try to find out? And how will we...forge forward, readjust to each other and the changes in our lives?
I know her eyes will never be the same again, no more an open window to her soul like back then. I find it amazing that she still had that innocence about her when we were together. A line from Lost Treasure's piece comes to my mind:
Would you believe, that I was innocent after my first lover, the one who broke me so many times, that no glue could ever fix me? Not pure, but innocent?
I hear my phone ring, a loud pop song that I have chosen so I can hear it wherever I am in the house. I had made the decision after Temi's phone call; I didn't want to miss any opportunity even if it was in the dead of the night and I was asleep. Dashing out of the bathroom, I rush and grab the device from my reading table. It is a private number.
"Temi!" I exclaim, hoping against hope that I'm right.
"Maduka. Listen carefully."
A/N: Okay who else can't wait for the next chapter? Tell me how you think it's going to be! I will edit sooner or later so please bear with whatever mistakes you see! Also, for the purpose of this chapter I created a name 'WETIN'. It is purely fictional to the best of my knowledge and bears no resemblance to any app bearing a similar name.
And for the questions asked, the answers are below!
toyosibby: "How old are you?"
I'm twenty-four years old. Just in case, my birthday is on October 31st 🙂
@MEHlaniin: "What school did/are you attending?"
I attended Madonna University, Elele in Rivers State, and then University of the West of England in England.
oceanbluesea_: "When did you move to England?"
I never moved; I just went to study and came back to Nigeria afterwards.
ayshagumee: "What do you look like?"
I tried uploading a photo here but it didn't work. So I put a picture up there ⬆️⬆️ for you, right before the chapter starts.
ray_chl23 "What motivates this story? And has writing being something you've always wanted to do or did u pick it up along d line?"
So many things motivate Preordained. Growing up, I read mostly foreign novels (especially romance) and I couldn't relate to the context. I even wrote a few myself but never completed them. I wanted to give people something to relate to, and also add some lessons I've learned and experiences I've heard about from people I've met. All these things happened because I challenged myself.
For the second part of the question, I've been writing for fun since I was eleven years old, but I think I'll take it more seriously from now.
oceanbluesea_: "What's your idea of a fun day?"
A lot of laughter, new knowledge, (and good food). Doesn't matter if I'm alone or surrounded by people. I just want to laugh and learn new and interesting things, and maybe meet new people (depending on my mood).
sarahtoo: "Awwn, you are teacher so cute. What age group do you teach?"
Thank you Sarah! I teach from 10-11 years, that's JSS1 and JSS2.
Maghiret120: "My question is you explain Nwanyieze's pains and sorrows so well. So I want to ask have you experienced sexual abuse before or you know someone who has or you were just inspired by something you saw?"
Yes to all. Some of the feelings I have described, I have felt them at some points in my life. While I don't like to talk about myself, I'll tell you that I have met lots of people (of both sexes) who have experienced it- mostly during childhood and from a trusted one. Not a day goes by without one form of sexual abuse or the other committed somewhere in the world. The news plenty. I'm sick of seeing it.
zia_tiffah: "Ummm...how do you juggle life and writing?"
Sis, it isn't easy for me but it's doable. In fact, as I write this, I am hiding from my family in a dark room so I can concentrate. I have a 9-hr job and other responsibilities, I just have to make it work. I use any opportunity to put some things down- on the road, in the shop, at work- whenever an idea hits me.
Thank you so much for your questions! I hope you're satisfied with the answers. I've answered as best as I can. I wish Wattpad would make it easier to mention people. Some usernames didn't come up, imagine!
Oh yeah and don't forget to vote! Thank you!