“Do humans get a happily ever after?”;
“What?”; I asked, confused.
“Why do humans have to die?”; she asked again.
I turned sideways to Amarachi. We were sitting on a bench under the orange tree in her compound, our phones were connected through Xender, and I was receiving some files from her. We could hear the clucking of chickens from the backyard.
“I noticed you weren’t in a good mood when I arrived. Is anything wrong?”;Amarachi shook her head. “I’m just thinking. One of those times, you question everything and feel hopeless. It never happens to you?”; she said, her eyes fixed on her legs.
“Of course it does!”; I joked, trying to lighten the mood. “Like, oh Lord, please let me meetDavidoorAyra Starr.Why don’t I have a flat tummy? Lord, I want to be wealthy. I want to eat everything and have many Birkin bags.”; I said, laughing.Amarachi didn’t crack a smile. I stopped.
“Sorry,”; I whispered.
I checked my phone. The transfer wasn’t complete yet. “So, why are you thinking so much?”;
She shrugged. “Honestly, everything. When we graduate, what’s next? How do we ensure we don’t end up with mediocre lives? What if we don’t get the opportunities we deserve because we aren’t wealthy or connected? What if we have an accident and become paralysed or amputated? What if we just die tomorrow, or worse, never amount to anything in life, no matter how hard we try?”;
“Whoa, whoa, calm down,”; I said, her words, a bit disconcerting. “It’s not that deep. Life will unfold as we move on. We’re just in SSS 3. Step by step,biko. When we get to the bridge, we will cross it.”;
“What if, by the time we get to the bridge, it’s broken?”;
I sighed as my mind wandered back to Primary 3. Back then, I had an unstable bladder. I wet myself so much I was nicknamed “wee-wee girl.”; One day, it happened again, and everyone, including the teachers, laughed at me. The headmaster summoned Mrs Laraba, my class teacher and me to tellme not to return to school until I “fix my problem.”;
Out of nowhere, Yaseer, a stubborn boy in my class, ran into the headmaster’s office. “MrsLaraba, Amarachi wee-wee’d on her body too!”; He yelled mockingly before running off.
I was shocked. Amarachi was immaculate, brilliant and always tidy. So why would she soil herself? When they brought her to the office, as we exchanged eye contact, she winked at me.
Years later, I asked her about it.“Well,”; she said, “you always got new sportswear or uniforms when you messed yourself. I wanted a new one too.”;
I rolled my eyes. “And did you get it? No! The headmaster sent you home in your soiled clothes, and your mum beat youshege.”;
We had laughed about it. That was Amarachi; intentional, but can be reckless. So, her strange questions today weren’t surprising.
“Look,”; I said, “You have to reach the bridge to know if it’s broken. What’s wrong with you today?”;
She shook her head just as our phones buzzed. The transfer was complete.
“Stop overthinking,jare. WAEC is in two months. That’s one bridge in front of you, cross it first before worrying about others.”;
“You are right,”; she said, looking up at the orange tree with a deep sigh. “These oranges are ripe. Don’t worry, when the last oranges fall, I will save some for you. By the way, those are all the past questions I have,”; she added, referring to the files I had collected.
“Thanks. They are enough.”;
It started drizzling, despite the blazing sun.
“Oya, should we go inside?”; she asked.
“I have to get home. Sister Olawunmi is returning from NYSC today, and I want to be there when she arrives.”; She nodded.
“She will bring goodies, and I don’t want Yemisi and Sister Islamiyah to take the best ones before I get back,”; I added, as if she asked.
“Okay, do you need an umbrella?”;
“No, don’t worry.”;
A smile tugged at her lips. “Alright. I will keep some oranges for you.Shasave some goodies for me o,”; she teased.
“Beforenko!”; I shouted, running off before the rain got heavy.
*
The next morning, I was at the dining table, eating yam and egg my mum and sister Islamiyah had cooked. Sister Olawunmi strolled in, yawning.
“Olawunmi,”; Mum began, “you’ll soon get married. Is this how you’ll be behaving in your husband’s house?”;
“Toor. What if I don’t want to marry? Am I getting married to become a slave?”;
“God forbid o!”; Mum exclaimed. “You will marry. Feranmi, Yemisi, all my daughters. And it’ll be grand, mygelewill touch the sky and ouraso ebiwill be the best!”; I chuckled as Dad sipped his tea, amused.
“Daddy, I’m ready. My pocket money, please.”; I said.
“Are you not waiting for Yemisi?”; Mum asked.
“Mummy, Yemisi is just taking her bath o. I can’t wait. I have WAEC lessons.”;
“Shebi your WAEC lesson is from 7 a.m. to 8 a.m.? It’s already 7:42 a.m. You will miss it. Just wait for Yemisi,”; Sister Olawummi said, dipping her yam into her tea.I hate when she does that.
“Daddy, Yemisi takes a million years to get ready and another billion years to eat! I’m a prefect, I need to get to school early.”;
“First, it was because of lessons; now it’s because you’re a prefect.Abi, you have a boyfriend?”; Sister Olawummi teased with a smirk.
I love her, but sometimes she really gets on my nerves.When did a boyfriend come into this?
“Oya, go then. So you can’t be your sister’s keeper? How many minutes will it take you to wait for her?”; My mum scolded.
“You people should let this girl go if she wants to,ejoor. I will drop Yemisi off on my way to work,”; my dad interjected. “Feranmi, don’t mind them. Be going.”; But I didn’t leave. I sat back down, frustrated.
I wanted to storm out, but I also didn’t want to be seen as the bad, selfish sister. So I stayed, silently fuming.
Barely a minute later, Sister Islammiyah barged in, startling us all.
“Ahn ah, Islammiyah! Do you want to kill us?”; My mum exclaimed.
“Sorry, Ma,”; Sister Islammiyah apologised, looking flustered. “It’s just that…”; “Just what?”; my dad snapped, annoyed.
“Amarachiti ku.”;
“What?”; My mum asked, confusion lining her face.
“Amarachi is dead, mum,”; she repeated, her gaze flicking between my mum and me.
I shot up from my seat.
“What? Which Amarachi? What happened?”; I demanded, my voice shaking.
“Your bestie,”; she said. “I went to buy detergent from theabokishop and saw a crowd outside her compound. They said she hanged herself on the orange tree in their yard early this morning.Her mother found her when she came out to fetch water.”; I gasped, stumbling backwards.
No. It couldn’t be true. Amarachi wouldn’t… couldn’t … do that. What for?
I ran to her house.
The crowd outside confirmed my worst fear. I saw a body covered with a white cloth.My knees buckled as I staggered forward, my heart pounding with denial. With trembling hands, I reached for the edge of the cloth.
Maybe it’s someone else. Please, let it be someone else.
Tears streamed down my cheeks the moment her still face came into view.Amarachi.
“No… no, this can’t be real,”; I whispered, shaking my head. My voice cracked under the weight of disbelief. This has to be a prank. She’s hiding somewhere, isn’t she? Any moment now, she will jump out and mock me for falling for such a cheap trick.
But there was no movement. No laughter. Justsilence.
My gaze shifted to her mother, slumped on the ground, her cries piercing the heavy air. Several women surrounded her, their hands rubbing her back in futile attempts to console her.
“How?”; I choked, turning to the women. “I was here yesterday. She was fine! We talked and...”; My voice faltered as a memory from the previous day surfaced.Her strange questions.
“I don’t know either,”; her mother wailed, shaking her head. Her voice was hoarse, breaking with every syllable. “Everything seemed fine. Last night, I bade her goodnight in her room. This morning, I woke up to fetch water, and... Amarachi, oh, Amarachi! I’m your mother. Why didn’t you tell me? If something was bothering you, why didn’t you confide in me?”;
Her cries sliced through my chest. I turned away, my gaze landing on the bench where we had sat just yesterday.A small basket of ripe oranges was on the bench.
I closed my eyes and leaned over Amarachi’s lifeless body, pulling her into a tight hug.
“You had no right,”; I whispered through clenched teeth. “No right to leave like this. What about your mother? You are the only child, and she is a widow. What about me?”; My tears soaked through the cloth. “Why didn’t you talk to someone?”;
Was yesterday a sign? Was I too blind? Too negligent?
If only I had paid more attention. If I had asked her the right questions. If only...
But the “ifs”; were useless now. I would never understand why she thought death was the only way out.
*
A few days later, as they lowered her coffin into the ground, the finality of it all struck me like a hammer to the chest.
I had always thought of Amarachi as unshakable. The kind of person who would go far in life, someone with undeniable charisma, a natural leader. It had never even crossed my mind that she might have been battling demons in silence.
I felt a surge of anger mixed with despair. “She should have thought of everyone she was leaving behind,”; I muttered under my breath. “The void she’d leave in our lives. How could she be so selfish?”;
Not bearing it anymore, I buried my face in Sister Olawunmi’s shoulder and broke into uncontrollable sobs. Yemisi, seeing this, rushed forward and joined the hug, her own tears falling freely.
Yemisi loved Amarachi, she looked up to her. Amarachi was her role model. And now...
*
The memory of Amarachi’s fierce compassion came flooding back. It was a year ago, during our school’s cultural day party.Yemisi had been crying after a boy from her class touched her inappropriately. It had been a dare from his friends.
Without hesitation, Amarachi marched to their class and confronted the boy. She slapped him on the spot and reported the incident to the principal. He was suspended for a week.
I had confronted Amarachi later, asking, “Why didn’t you let me handle it first?”;
She smirked. “You would just scold Yemisi and say, ‘I told you to stay away from him.’ She doesn’t need scolding right now. She needed someone to fight for her.”; She was right.
“Amarachi understands me,”; Yemisi had said later. “She always defends me. She’s so cool, my role model.”;
And now, she’s gone.
I stared at the mound of earth covering her grave. Outside the chaos in her head, there was a whole world waiting for her, if only she had reached out her hand. We could’ve pulled her out of the darkness, fought alongside her.
But it’s too late now.
***
Featured Image by Mikhail Nilov for Pexels
