Chapter 1: Yetunde.

Chapter 1: Yetunde

Mofe shifted uncomfortably on her feet on the rowdy assembly ground. The noise was irritating her, along with the feel of sweat running down her back caused by the rays of the scorching sun directly above the students. The students of Iroko International Academy were called during their break time for an emergency meeting that would be anchored by the head prefects.

The 16 year old dark-skinned girl tried to find a source of entertainment whilst waiting for the prefects. Her dove brown eyes rested on the the JSS3 boys currently complaining over how they could have used this time to play football. They were loudly shouting. It reminded Mofe of her uncles when they were watching football. The boys were making noise. She looked behind her. Where are the teachers?, she thought to herself.

Her gaze flew around the ground looking for something else to fix her attention. The SS2 girls were quite a sight. Mofe giggled at how they were openly staring at the head boy where he stood in front of them next to the pretty head girl with the navy blue hijab. An unreadable expression was on his face. He didnt exactly seem to be in the mood for the SS2 girls, or anyone for that matter. In fact, from where Mofe stood, at the very back of the SS3 girls' line(well, what was left of it since most of the SS3 students were prefects), she could have sworn Ibukun's eyes were red, swollen- she dare add.

"Ehem. Please can everyone please be quiet?," Aisha, the head girl asked. Yes, asked. Aisha was a calm, too calm (according to some people) beautiful girl. She was smart, intelligent, sharp, quick but when it came to crowds she froze up. Her voice became quiet, meek, submissive. She was the type of person that told you sorry when you stepped on her foot. Which Mofe didn't see as a problem. In fact, Mofe admired Aisha from afar. In Mofe's words, Aisha was chill.

"Please can everyone be quiet?," she looked around frantically silently begging the other prefects to take action."Please-"

"Keep quiet."A deadly silence overtook the atmosphere. Immediately the head boy spoke, the SS1 boys stopped their bickering, even the SS2 girls stopped their fantasizing. Mofe wanted to make eye contact with Ibukun and laugh with him, but she thought against it when she saw his clenched jaw and the impatient bouncing of his left leg. Something was wrong.

"Ehem,"Aisha said, obviously embarassed."Thank you all for coming. Sorry for interrupting your long break. We are gathered here to receive terrible news, I want everyone to handle this maturely. That is why teachers are talking to the junior students while the headboy and I address you all. I am assuming the senior students of this prestigious school are mature enough to compose themselves when faced with serious matters-"a pause. Maybe for the students to take in what she said or she liked dramatic effects. She straightened her spine, lifted her chin and continued,"two days ago-"

"Abi you'll talk?", Ibukun asked suddenly. Everyone went silent. Even the rumbling sound of the generators around the school seemed to have dulled down.

Aisha was shocked, blinking her eyes rapidly, but recovered in due time."Ibukun, calm down,"she reached to touch his arm.

"If you touch me," he sucked his teeth,"Touch me first."

Aisha withdrew her hand.

"I'm calm, Aisha. I'm just trying to get the message across quicker-," he said turning to the baffled students.

"Guy, Ibukun-,"a prefect who was standing near by spoke up.

"Guy, Timi, shut up. In fact everyone shut up! Let me speak."

Timi, the one who had spoken, stepped away and walked to the back of the line where Mofe was. He stood silently beside her, a worried expression on his handsome features.

"Timi," Mofe whispered,"what's going on?"

He didn't answer, he only stared ahead. His gaze never wavering from the tall dark boy that stood in front of the senior students of Iroko International Academy.

"The day before yesterday," Ibukun took in a shaky breath,"Yetunde Olamide, a student of SS1C, killed himself."With his hands in his pockets, he walked off.

Mofe felt like she couldn't breathe. She felt like someone was suffocating her.

In the midst of the chaos, Aisha trying to control the students, Timi leaving Mofe's side to perform his prefect duties,the students discussing what they had just heard, Mofe slipped away walking in the same direction Ibukun left in.

When she got to the Senior block, she paused to think of where Ibukun could be. When she remembered, she half-ran-half-walked there.

The Art Studio was wide. It had paintings and sketches done by students and some by the teacher hung on the wall. There were a few unfinished works on easles, streaks of paint here and there.

She stood at the door of the Art Studio looking at the figure leaning against a small circular table staring at a sketch on the wall. As she ventured closer, she recognised whose work it was.

"I knew you would follow me."

"I dont know if I should be flattered or offended with how well you know me," Mofe replied sitting cross-legged on the tiled floors.

The two friends stayed quiet for a while, comfortable I each others presence. It wasn't the type of silence you had with the classmate you never speak to when placed in their group. It wasn't awkward. It was comfortable, relaxing.

Ibukun didn't seem like he was ready to talk and Mofe wasn't going to rush him. In fact, she did not exactly know why she followed him. She was meant to have locked herself up in a toilet cubicle and bawled her eyes out. Yet, here she was. Shockingly and confusingly there was no feeling of tears in her the back of her head. Just maybe the feeling of a vast void in her. Somewhere in her.

She remembered Yetunde. The playful boy in SS1 that never combed his light brown low afro. He had various scars on his legs and on his arms telling stories from his numerous adventures. Every time she went to his house for a visit, he would be messing around with his elder brother, Ibukun.

"Now, why are you crying?" He slid to the floor stretching his long legs in front of him.

Mofe shrugged. She cleaned the tears that were on her cheeks. She hadn't even noticed when they had slipped.

"Don't cry. I've done enough crying for hundred people," he smiled lightly.

Mofe turned to look at him.

The smile was still on his face. A small gentle smile, as if to say he was okay-or, at least, going to be. Which Mofe found hard to believe when she saw the unspilled tears in his eyes.

"I don't know what I'm going to do. I mean, of course I do. No I don't," he laughed bitterly,"I can't even be decisive. Mofe, what am I going to do?"he exhaled shakily bowing his head."The divorce, my mum, my parents. Now Ye-him. I can't, Mofe. I-I can't"

He placed his head on his bent knees, crying softly, shoulders shaking more visibly. Mofe wished she knew what to do in times like this. She wished she more like her elder cousin, Cousin Alero, who always knew what to say and what to do.

She fiddled with her fingers a bit, deciding then un-deciding, until finally she placed her right palm on his head- playing with the kinky black coils of his hair. He stopped shaking, staring straight ahead at a paint stain on the white walls of the studio.

"Do you want to pray?"

Ibukun furrowed his bushy eyebrows then nodded. Mofe held out her hand, gesturing for him to put his hand in her's.

"In Jesus' name. Lord, we thank you for today. We thank you Lord for keeping us. We do not understand why Yetunde is no longer with us-"

"Mofe, he's not going to heaven! He's not," Ibukun wept more into his palms.

Mofe gulped."Lord, we don't understand your ways, neither can we question-"

Mofe kept quiet when she heard Ibukun silently humming to himself a Gospel song. Then she said:

"What did Aunty Dami say we should do when we can't pray?"

"She said we should pray." Ibukun's voice was muffled since he was using his palms to hide his face from her.

Mofe laughed lightly."Ehn, Aunty Dami said that, but she also said we should sing. What song were you humming?"

"I don't know the name of the song. It's the one Yetunde pretended to hate," he chuckled lightly.

Mofe smiled a knowing smile and began to sing:

...I need thee o I need thee

Every hour need thee

O bless me now my Saviour

I come to thee...

As she sang, Ibukun's eyelids became heavy, while her thoughts drifted to images of Yetunde climbing the great guava tree in his compound that the birds always got to its fruits first.

"I'm scared, Mofe. I'm scared."

She raised his head to look at her then wordlessly squeezed him tight, resting her head in the crook of his neck and him doing the same.

They stayed like that for some time, once again comfortable in their silence. His tears gradually coming to an end and hers daring not to spill. She felt she had to be strong.

"I think we should get back to class,"he said raising his head.

"We don't have to."

"Unlike you, in order to pass I need to attend classes."He stood up, laughing lightly.

"Help me up," Mofe said raising a hand.

"Why? Are you too lekpa to stand on your own? Are you afraid the wind will carry you?"

Ibukun helped her up laughing loudly swinging his arm over her shoulder then lead her out of the Art Studio.

Away from his brother's favourite place in the world. Away from Yetunde's sketch. Away from a part of Yetunde.