The next day went by and I didn't hear anything from Nenye about the video. On Saturday she went to Vicky's house and stayed there the whole day. I didn't bother to ask why I already knew the reason.
Meanwhile, my parents were not talking to each other. I don't know if it was because I was very observant but it seemed like I was the only person that had noticed out of my siblings.
On Sunday after church service, I went to the church canteen to buy a bottle of water. Our church canteen was actually just a small room with some tables and chairs where people could eat and relax.
The woman there handed me the bottle and I gave her a two hundred naira note which she exchanged for a one hundred naira note.
I smiled and said thank you then walked out of the canteen with my change in my hand.
Outside was hot, Abuja's sun could be very harsh sometimes. I almost wished that I had a pair of shades with me because the sunlight was entering my eyes.
"Hey, Nigerian girl." I turned at the sound of Chidindu's voice.
He had a slight smile on his face.
"Why are you squinting?" He asked.
"The sun is too bright, it's getting into my eyes," I said and looked him up and down. He looked different in his fitted black long sleeve shirt and black trousers.
"Are you checking me out?"
I laughed and said. "No, I was just looking at something."
We started walking together to the parking lot.
"Yeah, right."
I rolled my eyes at him and said. "You just look different."
"How different."
"For one, you look slimmer without your school uniform."
"Are you saying that my uniform makes me look fat?" He acted like he was offended.
I nodded and he acted like he had just been shot on his heart.
"You wound me." He smiled.
When we got to the car I opened it and sat down at the backseat. He stood quietly at the door as if he was guarding it.
"You should come in, the sun is too hot for you to be standing under it like that."
He walked to the other side and I open the door for him.
"So did you tell Vicky about the video?"
"I couldn't, she didn't let me, what about you?"
I wanted to ask how she didn't let him but thought about it and remembered that Vicky didn't like Chidindu.
"I didn't have to, she already knew and it turns out that it's a girl behind it all."
"Hmm." He said lost in thought.
He was resting on the chair behind him and looking outside. A group of children passed by, laughing and joking with amongst themselves. I watched a small smile form on his face as he watched them and I couldn't help but smile at that.
He suddenly turned to me and I smiled sheepishly. He arched his brow at me and said, "You know if you keep staring at me like that, it's going to send the wrong signals that you like me."
"I don't!" I shouted immediately.
"I never said you did." He laughed.
"I was just wondering..."
Wait, what was I wondering about?
Before I could think of something my mouth moved faster than my brain.
"Do you miss your former home?"
He looked surprised that I had asked that question.
"My home?"
Since I'd already asked the question, I decided to just go with it.
"Yeah, the place where you were born."
"Actually, I was born in Nigeria."
"Really?"
He nodded and said, "My parents lived here even before I was born and then 4 years after we moved to England as a family."
Is that why he likes reading African literature because he was born here in Nigeria?
"Is that why you're so obsessed with African literature?"
"I'm not obsessed, I just like reading about the African culture."
"I find it hard to believe that a Yankee boy such as yourself finds African literature fascinating."
He rolled his eyes at me and I grinned.
"You know that Yankee means American right?"
I blinked once, then twice. "Yes, but Americans are foreigners and you're a foreigner which makes you a Yankee boy." I grinned again. He smiled and looked back outside without saying anything.
"The main reason why I like reading African books is that I've come to realize that there's nothing in this world like the African culture." He finally said.
I nodded in agreement and said.
"Perhaps, but it's still odd, most children your age haven't even begun to read the African books you read."
"You can thank my mother for that, the first book she ever read to me as a child was a book called A is for Africa." He paused for a second then continued "She kept reading African books to me until I developed a liking for the African culture."
"That doesn't sound so bad."
"It doesn't, but I began to suspect that the reason why she read all those books to me was because she felt guilty."
"Why would she feel guilty?"
"My father wanted me to grow up here in Nigeria but she wanted to live close to her family in London."
When he said that my smile disappeared from my face. I had a feeling that he was about to tell me the reason why his parents divorced.
When I didn't say anything, he continued his story.
"To cut the story short, they spent 10 years together having constant fights over the same issue until they finally divorced."
"I'm sorry," I said sadly.
"It's not your fault really, it just confirms the fact that a marriage where no one learns to compromise will not last."
I felt for him, really I did. I couldn't imagine my life if my parents ever split. What would become of my siblings and I?
There was a calm look on his face but I could see the sadness in his eyes so I tried to lift his spirits by saying something that wasn't very serious.
"African literature has made you very wise," I said with a blank expression.
He turned to me and I smiled at him. He gave me a sad smile and said.
"Yes, it has."
After some time, the rest of my family came to the car and we went home. In the car, I tried to think of several reasons why a couple would just decide to divorce.
In Nigeria divorce wasn't a concept that people were okay with. Most Nigerians looked down on divorce because it went against our religious beliefs. That didn't mean that it still didn't happen, and I was even more scared about it because right now my parents were still not talking to each other.
Oh God please tell me they aren't thinking of getting a divorce!
When we got home, we had our normal Sunday meal together but the silence between my parents continued. I didn't know if I was still the only one that noticed the odd silence between them at the dining table because CJ and Nenye were also quiet.
It was like my whole family had decided that today was a day for total silence.
After lunch, Nenye didn't even move from her chair. She asked me to help her take her plate to the kitchen while she remained fixated on her phone. I could only guess, the reason why she was so distracted with it was that she was still trying to catch the culprit behind the scandalous video.
CJ wasn't bothered too, he was busy watching a football match in the living room.
After washing our dishes I went up to my room to plan what to do next. I had to get to the bottom of my parent's odd behaviour.
I finally went back downstairs after I had arranged a plan in my head. My father had joined CJ to watch the match so I couldn't go to him but mom was alone in the kitchen.
She was cutting Uziza leaf (an Igbo leaf) that she was planning on drying out in the sun so that she could store it for the future.
I walked carefully, revising all the things that I was going to say to get some answers.
She was humming peacefully to herself. So I just decided to get on with it and ask the question.
"Mom?"
She turned around to look at me. "Yes, my dear."
It was now or never. I took a deep breath.
"Are you and Dad getting a divorce?"
She stopped what she was doing and turned around quickly. I held my breath almost immediately regretting asking such a stupid question. What was I thinking?
"Why? ... What's making you ask such a question?" Her forehead wrinkled in question and she had dropped the knife that she had been using to cut her Uziza.
"I noticed that you and Dad haven't been talking since yesterday and I-" I stopped talking when she started walking over to me.
I stood still with my feet planted to the ground. I couldn't move. When she got to me, she put a hand on my shoulder and rose her hand up. I thought she was going to hit me so I closed my eyes expecting the hit but when it didn't come I opened one eye and looked at the hand that she held in my face.
Her wedding ring sparkled under the bright kitchen light.
"Can you see this?" She asked.
I nodded quietly and she continued.
"This is not just a ring." She said while shaking her head slowly.
"It's a symbol of a vow that I made to God and to myself, to love your father despite what happens, despite disagreements big and small, to always be with him through it all."
"So no we're not getting a divorce... we're just having a slight disagreement, but we'll work through it and everything will be fine."
I almost felt like crying when she said that. Maybe I shouldn't have doubted my parents so easily but I still couldn't shake that nagging feeling that they were still humans and humans tend to break promises.
I didn't know when I had started crying until my mom started wiping the tears that were rolling down my cheeks.
"Nwa m (my child), stop crying."
I put my hands around her and continued crying into her shoulder, after I had calmed down, I sniffed and managed to say something.
"Mom, promise me that whatever happens you'll try to learn how to compromise."
"Of course, I will." She smiled and cupped my face in her hands. The smell of Uziza was still on her palms.
I smiled weakly and closed my eyes.
I really hoped that she wouldn't break her promise.
A.N
There it is another chapter. What do you guys think of it?
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Bye for now.