Mary was everything to him. Mary was his life, his music,
his dedication, and his motivation.
James couldn’t stay a day without seeing her. It didn’t
really seem like he was addicted to her until we all noticed he would go into
the toilet to make “calls”.
James was 23, young, vibrant, tall, 6’ 2. He had the smile
of a beautiful deer. Every girl we knew would smile at the sight of his smile.
It all started when his cousin Cally came in from the
states. They went out for some family reunion at a bar somewhere inside town.
They had drinks and they went in with some girls having so much fun, they came
home late that night. He never mentioned her to anybody, he never described
her. All he ever said was “dude, she’s tight!” with a wink to cover it up.
I did envy him though, for finding this girl that could
change him. Make him go to work for a paycheck, spend money on his own phone to
make calls- in the toilet. We’re dudes so I didn’t want to seem gay
eavesdropping on their conversations.(no offence to same sex practitioners)
At some point, James started losing weight. I asked about
the girl jovially, expecting an answer. I didn’t get it! “J-boy Mary no dey
give you chow?” I asked in our local parlance. He was sweating profusely with
soaked undergarments.
“She’s fine.” Short and sharp, he shot back.
“Easy man…” I retorted calmly. “oh ’boy, for this cold, you
dey sweat like this?” It was 7:00am in the morning, a lazy Saturday morning.
“Guy dey your side!!!” he barked at me.
I calmly decided to overlook his tone and plug my earphones;
bopping my head to “kukere-etighi”… one of my home based favourite tunes. He
got up, put on his shirt, walked to the estate gate with a face like a soldier
from the 300 Spartans movie. Even a neighbour bypassed him puzzled by his look
as they exchanged quick sharp pleasantries. The neighbour approached me with
all suspicions of James being in a financial problem or some emotional trauma.
Nada! I was also as puzzled as him. So I went in hurriedly after the ‘imaginary
light bulb’ appeared on my head, put on some footwear, threw on an ‘Enyce”
T-shirt and went after James.
I followed him, noticed or unnoticed; I didn’t give a f***.
Followed until he came to an abrupt halt at one of the hangouts/brothel he and
his cousin used to come to whenever he was around. He went in, so I followed
after him; not minding him seeing me. I didn’t have a good hunch about him, the
brothel, the whole Saturday.
He went into one of the apartments behind the brothel and I
lost him. I decided to wait and a thought came to me, maybe Mary was a hoe and
it was disturbing him that she could have been with one her numerous clients at
that time. So I took a seat, ordered a bottle of fayrouz, sipped slow while
waiting. Minutes later, James wasn’t out and no drama yet. It was still quiet
except for the Africa magic channel that was on the TV then. After an hour,
three beers and one fayrouz down, the pimp of that brothel ran out and dashed
to me on sight… “Jay… jay… Jay… James!!”
“Hey… Calm down bro...” I placed my hand on his shoulder.
“What’s up? Talk to me? Wetin do James??”
In between breaths, he leaned forward, placing his hands on
his knees then pointed to the door James disappeared into. I dashed there not
knowing what to expect; Trauma or drama. I busted through the door not noticing
the restroom sign on it… James was on the floor. I finally met Mary.i quickly struggled to
lift his unconscious body off the disinfected floor. The pimp had already called
up an okada. I got on the bike…
“B.M.H, how much??” I didn’t even hear the price, I ordered
a go. Minutes later, he was on the hospital bed; revived, alive, and with hope
after such a heart break. As I left the
hospital to get him food and water, flashes of what Mary’s face looked like
with him on the floor.
With all the polythene and latex on the floor; She was
straight faced as metal, white, powdered form, spilled all over his nose, chest
and the toilet floor. She, in reality broke his heart: doctors mentioned
something about him loosing blood in his heart.
