4 4

"Bless me father for I have sinned. Its been eight months since my last confession." I told the priest, after he made the sign of the cross. His head was bowed down, as if he knew what sins I was about to confess.

"My sins are lying, being disobedient..." My breath had caught in my mouth, "and fornication."

An image of Somto comes to mind as I say this last part. He was my first love.

The first time we kissed, was at the back of my mother's shop. My mother owned a big restaurant and he was a regular customer, always coming with his BMW to buy akpu and onugbu soup. Then he would finish it off with a bottle of beer, Star. Other days he would request for take away and would go wherever he goes to eat it. On some occasions if he had change left, he would ask me to keep it. Then we would talk till he had to go or my mother called me.

He had come to put on the generator. My mother must have begged him to do it because Ahmed the errand boy was not around. He was shocked to see me but when he recovered, he came closer to me then went on to tell me how beautiful I am and how he enjoyed our little conversations.

He bent his head down till our lips touched. I had stood still and when he stuck his tongue out, I parted my lips, granting him access. He had tasted of beer.

"The Lord doesn't want us to be far away from him..."

My head was bowed down now, in shame.

The first time we had done the deed, I had cried. It had been painful, blood on the bedsheets of The hotel we had stayed in. The romance novels I read had lied, it wasn't pleasurable. My thighs felt sore after that. When my mother asked why I kept walking a certain way, I told her I started a new exercise and earned a suspicious look from her.

We did it again, and again until it became a part of us. Sheraton Hotel being our favourite hideaway.

One night, he called me. He was in front of my house. He needed to travel, something had come up. We had done it in the car. It was the last time we did it. He had died in a car accident.

"For your penance, say the..." The priest continued.

I met Ozor two weeks after Somto's death. He had come to our shop and had ordered for akpu and onugbu soup with Star. Whenever he did come, I would avoid him. He reminded me of Somto, the way he would raise his hand up to call Ahmed's attention or the way he said thank you when paying for his meal.

When we did it, it barely lasted 10 minutes. There had been no kisses or soft spoken words. I had felt so much guilt and avoided him soon after.

A few weeks later, my mother began to ask why I was always sleeping. My friends said I lookedfresher. I read no meaning into it until I missed my period. I called Ozor out of fear, who told me he wasn't ready for a child.

The next day, I was in a hospital.

"Its normal to have late periods. As a result of stress, too much thinking, our period can be delayed. Sometimes for as long as three months." The female doctor on seat had explained to me.

"Are you sexually active?"

"Yes." I replied after finding my voice

"I wonder why you young girls have unprotected sex when you are not ready for what might come out of it."

Head down, I thanked her and took my leave. She had refused payment, saying she hoped I would be more careful.

The priest lips moved, "I absorb you ... In the name of the Father ..."

The kneeler creaked under my weight as I stood up.

The next time and other times Ozor called I didn't pick.

* * *

Teni's case was blaring from the speakers kept in strategic places in the school hall.

Congratulations class of '018 was written in bold, black letters at the entrance of the hall. At the side were a group of my classmates taking pictures. One last memory of themselves before they all departed.

It had taken a lot of negotiations before the principal allowed us to have an evening graduation party strictly for the outgoing SS3 students with an invite of plus one. The bouncers had stood at the gate ready to turn away anyone who didn't have his/her invite.

I squeezed Deji's hand, my brother and plus one. He was younger by two years but we were like vampire and blood, our bond surpassing the age difference. I looked down at my blue coloured off shoulder gown with ruffles at the arms and smiled. It was floor length so it hid my gold gladiator sandals, showing my 5'9 height which only reached my brother's chin.

I walk slowly into the hall, allowing my ears adjust to the music. Deji didn't have a problem with it as he was already moving to the beat.

Level up by Ciara was playing now and I could see a few girls dancing to it.

"C'mon. Let's join them." Deji dragged me to the dancing floor. Turning me around in tune with the new song that was playing now.

I dance absentmindedly and step on Deji's feet a few times before he pinches my cheeks calling my attention back to him.

"It's just ... " I say before my eyes fill with tears and I walk run out of the hall into the bathroom with Deji close on my heels.

"Tolani. Open the door." He whisper shouts as my cries get a little louder.

I didn't want to be at this party, not with the sudden loss of my parents from the accident caused by a drunk driver who died on impact.

Grandma had insisted we came, to clear our heads and get away from the pain. So when she had bought the gown for me and trousers for Deji, I couldn't say no anymore.

I look in the mirror, trying to give myself a pep talk.

You shouldn't be here. You don't deserve to be happy.

I push my negative thoughts to the back of my mind. It didn't help that I had argued with my parents before they had gone on the road trip. I wish I could take all that back.

"Tolani ... " Deji's voice brings me out of my reverie.

I take one last look at the mirror, a dark skinned girl with red lips and puffy eyes is staring back at me.

"I want to go home." I tell Deji as I unlock the door.

"Let's wait for the driver at least." He makes a move to bring his phone but I'm quick to grab it.

"No. Let's walk. I need to clear my head, the walk home would help."

More like penance for trying to have fun after the death of your parents.

I pinch myself willing the thoughts to go away.

He looks unhappy for some seconds before he grabs my hand and we begin to walk towards the gate.

"We didn't even take any picture." He murmured.

"Grandma did, before we left." I reply, sticking my tongue out at him before we both burst out laughing. Lightening the mood.

"I miss mummy's akara. She likes to add plenty plenty onions and pepper." He trails off.

Over the past weeks, we bring up memories of our parents but never talk about the accident.

"Me too and daddy's okro soup."

We both crack up with laughter, a familiar image of our father running around with a pot full of burnt okro.

He had made a bet with our mum and lost so he had to cook okro soup. We had ended up eating noodles instead and it was prepared by our mother.

I shiver a bit, didn't expect the weather to be this chilly. Our school was no longer in sight. The streets look deserted and I'm beginning to regret not calling the driver.

"Maybe you should call the driver."

I slow down my steps as Deji makes the call. We didn't want to wait here and also didn't want to go too far so we slowed down instead.

"Who goes dere?"

I squeeze Deji's hand probably making it numb from all the pressure.

"Abi o gbo ni, who goes dere?" The voice is closer now.

"Awa ni." Deji replies in his best imitation of bass voice.

In a different scenario, it would have been hilarious.

I'm hiding behind Deji's tall frame grateful that I can't be seen.

"Who b dat one?"

"Nobody"

Smack.

Deji hands involuntarily goes to his cheek. Not wanting a repeat of that, I tiptoe from behind him, my head bent.

"Luk up." I look straight ahead, the horse and it's rider on his Ralph Lauren polo coming into view.

"I say lukat me abi u ar mad ni." His hand comes to rest on my cheek pushing my head up to face him.

Deji moves to shield me and is pushed roughly to a group of four guys I didn't realize had come with him.

"Ejo Sir. E ma binu Sir. We are going home Sir." I manage to say, my knees going low to show respect.

"Shey ur man dey form say e strong abi. We go show am." He moves to strike Deji again but stops with his hand midair.

He comes closer to me, offering a sickening smile.

His breath fans my face and the strong smell of alcohol hits me making me want to throw up.

He reaches for my cheek and I scream, my hands and feet going out in an attempt to connect with different parts of his body.

"Don't touch me." I spit out venomously. I try to move but it feels like I'm stuck.

"Ah lyk dz one gan." He says to his counterparts who hail him.

A scuffle ensures between the both of us, before long I'm pinned in between his legs; back to the ground and my two hands caught in one of his.

"Ah go show u who ah be." He mutters as he tries to unbuckle his trouser with just one hand.

"Dz one will gimme too much wahala laidiz oo." He says to no one in particular. One of his guys, removes his clothes and rips it into different pieces assisting him in tying my hands before using another piece to gag me.

I try not to look in my brother's direction but my eyes go to his of their own will and back to the man on top of me.

My assailant has gotten rid of his trousers now.

"Sis. Tolani ... Look at me." My brother calls.

It was almost laughable. My parents had gone on and on about him calling me Sister Tolani but it never stuck and I also didn't care much for it but here we are.

"There's still hope. God can do something." He says, more to himself than to me.

I stiffen as I feel his prick break my hymen. The gag preventing my cries. I feel the tears on my cheek but it doesn't deter my assailant who keeps pumping in and out of me.

"The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want ... " My brother is praying quietly.

Where's God when you need him??

I don't care to stop my wandering thoughts which is interrupted by the ringtone of Deji's phone.

One of the men take the phone from his pocket, look at the screen before smashing the phone on the wall.

"Baba. May we dey go oo, na dere driver b dt."

His rhythm increases and he grunts, stiffening for a bit as he squirted his dirty liquid inside me before he pulls out and puts on his trouser.

"Dis gal sweet die. E cum be vargin." He says, dusting the dirt of his trouser.

"Baba! Make we dey go."

The horn of an approaching car sounds in the distance.

I feel my head being lifted unto something soft, probably Deji's lap and I look up to see Deji's red rimmed eyes looking everywhere but me.

"I'm sorry." He mutters continuously as he unties my hands and removes the gag from my mouth.

The horn of the car sounds again, this time it's closer and I'm certain it's our driver.

I don't care to find out, I give into the pressure of my eyelids and I black out.

* * *

I ask Anthony to be my val. I get no reply from him, his head is bent over his phone but he doesn't reply the text I had just sent him via WhatsApp. I am seated two rows behind him in class. Anthony always makes it a point of duty to seat in the second row of the class, with his big medicated glasses hanging over his nose and pen held tightly between his hands as he scribbles on his book. Two minutes pass and still no reply.

"Erm. Tony. Is your data on?" I ask him when he turns back.

"Yes? Any problem?"

"No. Nothing. Could I erm borrow your phone. I want to check something online." I lie.

I collect the phone and check his recently viewed; there's WhatsApp, Chrome, YouTube. I open the WhatsApp, my message is the first thing I see. Unread. I return the phone back to him, praying for him to reply.

One day and another goes by, until four days goes by. The next day is Valentine. My message has not being replied. When he comes to class, he greets me, but avoids the question. When I call him out on it, he only winks. Anthony is the smartest guy in our class, I had always had a fondness for him and had decided to express it during this love season. We are all third year students of Engineering department. His wink rekindles my hope and I say no to everyone who asks me to be their val.

The next morning is a Tuesday, Valentine's day, I receive a text, its from Anthony.

"I don't do Valentine."

I rub my eyes with the back of my hand believing I had not read clearly, the contents of the message doesn't change. The gift card I had made for him from watching YouTube videos stared me in the face alongside the box of wristwatch.

My phone rings. Its Anthony. I pick.

"Hey. Did you see my message?"

"I did. Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I didn't think it impor-"

I end the call, I don't want to hear what he has to say.

My phone rings again, this time its Cornelius, another guy from class.

"How far nah?"

"I'm good."

"You sound dull? Any tin?"

"No. Nothing. I am fine. How's your day going to be?"

"Nothing ooo, just normal. You go like show for my side."

I don't think much of it and reply in the affirmative and he gives me direction to his place.

Two hours later, I am in front of "King's Lodge", Cornelius place.

"I am outside." I call him on the phone, he asks me to come to Room 315. On getting to the front of the room, I knock, a young guy of about 23 years opens the door. I am greeted by the strong smell of smoke from something they are smoking. Cornelius is seated on the tiled floor. He beckons me to sit on the bed, I do so, with only half of my buttocks on the bed. I am already uncomfortable, didn't want to be around my friends while they fussed about their valentine dates.

I do not know what he says to the guy that opened the door and he leaves.

"Welcome. Do you smoke?" He asks, with smoke coming out of his nostrils. I shake my head.

"There's always a first time." He continues.

"I don't want to go mad." I tell him.

"You should try it, you will feel relaxed and I would be here to take care of you if anything goes wrong." I shrug, I needed a distraction anyway. He hands me a wrap of what he's smoking. He lights it for me and tells me to suck the air in before blowing the smoke out of my mouth. When I say I want the smoke coming from my nostrils, he asks me to act like I want to swallow and allow it come through my nose, with my mouth closed. When I manage to do that, he asks me to chop knuckle, we share a look and we laugh. I begin to feel better.

"What did you bring for me?" He asks, midway into the wrap.

I gesture to my bag, he opens it and sees the box of wristwatch.

His eyes open in shock, he doesn't ask the questiThe black marble coffee table is occupied with loads of books from different authors across the globe. I drag my feet to the soft fluffy carpet matching the couch and armchair across the room.

I turn on the floor lamp next to me to lighten up the room, making the painting adorning the room visible. A photocopy of the famous milk maid among other old and new paintings graces the wallI take my seat directly facing him and intimidatingly cross my feet, with a smile on my face. I ain't going nowhere till we have the talk. He's purposefully avoiding the situation by having his son present in the room.

My eyes dart to the picture peacefully settled on the cream wall. Jayson's cheer-filled face at the beach is staring back at me. How had I missed this? I never bothered to ask if it was him because the boy in the picture is a mini version of him.

I dart my eyes around, studying his one bedroom apartment for the umpteenth time. His living room is dimly lit, a floor lamp the only source of light since his caramel brown curtains are tightly shut. The coffee table between us if filled with colouring books and crayons. Evidence of the boy's colouring skills. His 42" inch Tv adds some light to the room with slow old country music playing in a low volume.

The soft cinnamon brown carpet below my feet matches perfectly with the sofas and the armchair across the room.

Various types of paintings from old to new are splattered all over the wall. Pictures of him, his parents, friends and siblings grace the wall. A pang finds it's way to my chest, not one picture of me.

I look over at the two and find Jayson asleep on his father's chest. A worrisome look fillls his face.

.on that is lingering on his lips.

"Yes. Its for you. Happy Valentine." I save him the stress of asking.

I cough, once, twice. I look at Cornelius, he's upside down, his hands seem to be connected to his head.

"Cornelius..." I call to him, I feel his hands on my body as my eyes begins to close. I feel weightless for a second before my head hits what I assume is a pillow.

"Happy Valentine." I hear him say, I am not sure if its in my dream and I feel his lips on mine even if it was for just a few seconds.