FIVE

Fiyin had to work twice as hard.

With an alcoholic father that spends most of his day slouched on the parlor couch, a hundred naira sachet of booze in his hands. A recreative farmer, he’d shamelessly like to be called, when he wasn’t drunk, which was more than half the time.

A recreative farmer, whatever that meant. Perhaps it was just a pair of words he’d picked up from tv, drunk as always. Words that made sense to only he.

She didn’t care, though.

Fiyinoluwa Bamidele.

But she was more than just the girl with a wasteful father, and no mother. The latter, which bonded her with Obi the first time they met. They clicked once they realized the only thing they had in common then were mothers who had abandoned them both.

And when Ola had snuck to Houston, which was what it seemed like, because it was only that day, Obi and Fiyin had known that Ola was traveling.

But that was all a decade ago, things had changed.

Maybe that statement was factual, maybe not. But Obi had found a best friend in Fiyin once Ola was out of the picture and soon they realized they had much more in common than they initially thought.

Like their love for superhero comics at the tender age of ten. Or this particular flavor of chin-chin, a Nigerian junkfood Mary never let Ola eat.

Or how they both were seemingly attracted to boys.

He’d realized when he was thirteen, slouched on her couch as they watched a superhero movie this time. It wasn’t eventful, quite scary for Obi who took an interest in the semi nude character on the screen. He ruffled in the couch, hands running through his hair which he grew out.

“Maybe we should watch another thing” He’d said, as an intimate scene was yet to brace the television.

Fiyin sat well, eyes wide graciously at the screen. She was intrigued, while Obi was scared, scared that what made him feel this way, was the man whose sweaty bod rested on the female’s.

This was one of the few times Fiyin’s father was out, maybe on the farm close to the edge of town, but she didn’t care. These were just two, raging hormonal teenagers watching what they thought was an adventure film from the film stand.

Obi was quick to quench that thought, that uneventful moment at the back of his mind with fear. And for a whole decade, he hadn’t given it much thought. Not of his sexuality, nor his identity.

Fiyin on the other hand, grew into everything she’d hoped. She was radiantly beautiful, aging regressively but in a good way. Whenever the sun slithered against her skin, it glowed quite well.

And she got the most of puberty also.

Like i said, she had to work twice as hard growing up with nothing, no one other than an alcoholic father, and a best friend in Obi. She read twice as hard, to already nurture her intelligence and somehow managed to score a scholarship up until high school. Or what they called secondary school.

Not that her dad ever muttered a word of pride, or validation. She felt she didn’t care though, and she had to juggle between school and selling whatever produce her father brought home at the end of the day.

She’d wear her school uniform and trek further away from her neighborhood, of course. She couldn’t stand the shame of having one of her classmates sight her, hawking fruits from the back of their parent’s luxurious vehicles, she thought.

And whenever it did happen like that, she’d looked to the ground, hoping it just opens up to swallow her. She managed to sell just about enough to make money for her textbooks and stationeries, and the rest, like barely a good apple, she’d eat it for dinner.

Her father’s dinner was the good ol’ roll of cigarette that stenched from his little black box. She used to hang by a mere thread attimes, going to bed hungry or showing up to school in tattered uniforms—

—not affording a simple needle. Things were hard for this girl that was forced to grow up early. This girl, that was forced to be the parent to both her father and herself. But then, there was Obi.

Whenever she was with him, she felt safe knowing he wouldn’t mock her like the rest of the mean girls. Or he wouldn’t always have an opinion of her.

They’d sit segregated during lunch, gorging on fruit and two sandwiches Mira would make for Obi. And they would talk about whatever random things kids their age talk about. Never the serious things.

But all that changes when they get older.

Perhaps after close to a decade, and they are forced to both figure out themselves and the rest of their lives in their final year. It’s a miracle they both made it this far, that much, they know. But they also realize, that they aren’t the same people they were—

—slouched on that couch, yelling at batman to cross over the damn bridge, they’d grown up. And eventually, they’d grown apart.

The slam of the locker, drifts Ola back to reality.

He had taken the test after that day, and of course, he passed being a straight A, back in Houston. And even Collins could testify that upon seeing his gpa.

And maybe a several b’s at the least.

But then he scored a ninety-ish, on his entrance exam and secured a spot in the final year. Obi could not have been any happier, on hearing the news.

Akin, not so much after the fallout with his son.

Although, Ola might have eavesdropped one day to hear his father say deep down he was proud of him. Never to his face, and that was an African thing.

Somehow, here he was, barely a week later with a red tie suited to his neck and greyish blazers that complemented his well polished shoes. He was all but excited for his first day back at Hillway High.

He’d remembered these very halls, whenever they came here from their primary school then, and he would chase Obi across them. They used to have graffiti on them, inappropriate drawings that they might have painted over. And then placed these huge metal lockers against. Everywhere seemed to have changed, but also not so much in a way.

“So—“ He turned to Obi, adjusting the locks on his section. His brows were furrowed together as if struggling with a puzzle. “Obi” He called louder, and he let out a hum. He might have been excited for Ola a week ago, but not so much now.

He seemed like a different person, within these walls. Hair braided down, and a masc suit underneath his backpack which was clutched to his chest.

Ola’s eyes managed to scan around the room full of other eyes that looked at him. Some in familiarity, and others in surprise.

Most of them, felt familiar from primary school but none of them ever came up to him.

Obi heaves a sigh, finally winning the battle with his locker which only just needed oiling. And then he looks to Ola with a lopsided smirk.

“I’d show you around, but there’s not much time before first period” He held his books on his hands and Ola just scoffed. Of course. Obi’s eyes darted across the busy hallway with just a handful of people, yet the chattering seemed to be a bit loud.

He had something flash in his eyes, that made Ola step back. Was he embarrassed to be seen with the new guy that seemed to spike so much morning conversations? Some of which, he couldn’t even tell were good gossip. He’d passed by a bunch of frizzy girls that went on about how his buzzcut seemed to fit him. Ola, but nothing more.

Was he not more than just his hair, to these people whose faces he still remembered from childhood?

“It’s okay” He replied, to Obi who just stood there, waiting for a response in a lopsided gait. And then he nodded, brushing past his best friend.

Were they even still that, after ten years apart?

And just then, Ola takes his eyes off Obi and it lands on Fiyin, just across the halls. She’s crowded with a few people and she looks different. But that radiant smile is still there, crawling to the corner of her lips the second they lock eyes.

Ola tried to smile back, but not soon enough as she walked past him, not uttering a word also. He felt his shoulders deflate, as he looked to Obi who’s already a distance from him. And then before he could make out anything, someone suddenly jumps from the corner of the lockers and throws himself at Obi.

Ola felt the urge to step up, as his best friend gets punched in his belly. Muttering something in his ear, the person who seems to be a bully, pushes Obi to the ground with a piece of paper falling next to him. “Hey” It’s only Ola that makes a move.

And his voice echoed through the halls that had now gone quiet. The maskless bully turned around in a 90’s varsity jacket as Obi got up from the floor.

“Do you have anything to say to me, newbie?”

“Mide” Obi placed his hands against his chest that’s rising and falling. He clenched his fists and then releases it. “I don’t need you fighting for me—“ He said, taking a step back. And then he walked away just as the sound of the bell graced the halls.

The students flooded out the halls and covers both the bully and Obi, and they’re just gone. Like nothing happened. Ola let his hands fall to his hips as he sighted the piece of paper that fell from Obi’s hands. Fallen, no, he tossed it away from the bully.

He bent forward, holding up the scrunched paper and what he saw, made his eyes widen in terror. Not terror that’s exaggerating, but surprise. And he’s sure more than ever, that was a highschool bully.

This place never ran out of those.

“Faggot” He read off the paper with an exasperated sigh and then he tossed it in the dustbin. The clock struck just in time for another bell. The final one that indicated the beginning of the first period.

It was just the start of the day, and he already hated it. Walking to the corridor, with two ends, he halted.

“Mathematics. Where the fuck is mathematics?” He muttered under his breath. There he was, he was doing this. Not in Houston, but in Hillway High.

He had to get used to this feeling. This feeling he got whenever he thought of how his life had radically changed over the past few weeks. He had to get used to the fact that things had changed.

He knew he couldn’t just slip into making friends that easy. He knew, but he remained optimistic. He sat a table, with a lunch plate Mary had packed.

He didn’t like being treated as a child, but if he dared to reject it, he’d get the story of his life about how she got up at five am to make sure he has food to eat. Besides, she wasn’t about to just give him money to spend on chin-chin, and junkfood.

Mary knew more than that.

A shadow crept from behind him. And he looked back to see someone, not Obi. And not Fiyin too. It was Abdul. Yes, Abdul from kindergarten.

“Hey” He greeted, finally picking up a fond memory that they shared. “Abdul right?” He hated when he did that. When he had doubt in his voice each time he met a person.

“Ola” He called, enthusiastically, being the first person to utter a word to him all day. Ola can’t hide his excitement as he stretched to shake Abdul.

“It’s been a really long time” Abdul said. For him, yes. Because Ola hadn’t seen him after Kindergarten. It was familiar how he still remembered him. Some rumors spoke of how he relocated to Morocco. Others, to Abuja.

The latter, being more believable. He went with that. “Yes” Ola nodded. “Yes it has” He continued and just like that, when Abdul had left. People kept prying to his table, some taking a seat even.

They didn’t hate him like he thought. Or they had not forgotten about him, which was worse. They were just shy, being teenagers of course.

“Ken?” He yelled a little loudly, standing to pull him in a hug. He had a similar jacket to that of the bully earlier, some of them did. And it wasn’t rocket science to put together that they were on the football team. Back then, of all three—

—himself, Obi and Fiyin, he was the most social. Though something had changed in him these days.

He had friends, not that they were as close as Obi and Fiyin. But hi-hello friends, and swing playmates, some of which he remembered till now.

He had crushes also, more than a handful for a boy his size then. But it didn’t matter, he was a charm.

Something did change, as the familiarities wore him out. His social battery had once again died down, and as if he wasn’t the one hoping to speak to someone a little while back, he now hoped no one came close again. And the only way to do that—

—was to get up, and search around the room for Obi who was nowhere to be found after the morning incident. Once again, his eyes connect with Fiyin’s as he walked past. She hadn’t gotten up from her clique, to come meet him, though he hoped. It was a quick second before she looked away, a second filled with tension and perhaps, unresolved conversations between them.

He found his way out of the cafeteria, realizing it wasn’t long until lunch over. He had hated his day, till now. And that is when a voice called from behind. “Mide” As always. He turned around.

“I’ve been looking for you” Ola said, as Obi holds a tissue to himself. He has a mouthful that he tried to push down his throat. “You know—“

“You know i don’t like to eat where they are alot of people” Ola nodded, though he had forgotten. And Obi brushed past him to toss the tissue away. Ola trailed behind him with his untouched pasta still in his box. “Obi. About earlier” He felt obliged to say.

Obliged to speak of what happened to him.

Obi turned around, taking a defensive stance that shuts Ola up. “Don’t do that” He begged. “I can take care of myself” He said. “Stand up for myself”

“Well, why didn’t you?” Ola’s voice went low. Obi felt his eyes sting with water. He wasn’t about to cry. But it was worth mentioning. “Because—“

“Because,” He stuttered, as if searching within himself a reason why. “Because i don’t like the drama. You know that” He shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m used to it. I’ve dealt with it pretty much my whole life. And now, i have just a few more months till i’m out of here” He said. “I know more than to ruin it by standing up to Ayo”

“It’s just the way it is around here. Just don’t—“ He said, looking for the right words again. “Don’t do that. I can look after myself” Ola tried to mouth.

But the words never come out. Faggot?

Well, all his life, he knew Obi used to get bullied for things like his mom bailing on him, or his less fancy clothes, and eating habits. His undersized clothes and chubby stature which he also got.

Obi got bullied for his hair, and the way he walked. The effeminate way he talked. And being the loner kid, by the swings. But never about his sexuality, not that it would change anything. He just nodded, as if he weren’t mentally assessing anything.

“Cool?” Obi muttered, slouching a bit. “Cool”

“But how often does it happen?” Ola said, believing this conversation is far from over. “Look, it’s probably going to happen tomorrow. And the next, it’s why i eat by myself. You know, stay by myself”

“It’s how it’s always been” There’s hurt in his eyes as he steps back, hoping Ola stops with the questions that brings back memories from his past.

“But you aren’t alone—“ Ola mouthed.

“You have Fiyin” He added and a scoff escaped his lips. “Fiyin?” Obi echoed. And what followed are the very words Ola dreaded, the words he’s coming to realize are true only today. “Ola, things changed”

How was it possible that things changed and yet, they didn’t. Things like bullying were still rampant within these walls, but somehow it’s the friendship between his two bestfriends that does change?

“Fiyin—“

They both looked through the glassed cafeteria doors at her. “Fiyin’s a different person now”

To be continued…