Part 17: Ẹ̀jìrẹ́ ará ìṣokún

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“Hello”.

“Hi Omolade”.

“Dan?” I was confused. I had not seen nor heard from Dan since we had the argument about my relationship with other men. He attempted to speak to me about it subtly but in my mental state of disillusion, I couldn’t reason with him and we ended up ending our relationship there and then at the restaurant. I walked out on him and that was the last I saw of him. I could not imagine what he could possibly be calling for now.

“I wouldn’t be calling you if it wasn’t urgent”, he said, panting out of his wits.

“What is it?”

“It’s your brother”.

“What’s wrong with my brother?” All my senses were attentive as my voice rose without intent to alert my mom. I caught her attention.

“What’s wrong with your brother?” she asked, following my frightful expression.

“He was at the back of the dormitory”, Dan said. I didn’t understand what he meant.

“Doing what?” I was getting hysterical.

“What happened to your brother?” Mom asked again, coming closer to me to listen in.

“I’m sorry Omolade but –“

“What are you sorry for? Dan, I want to speak to my brother immediately. Please give him the phone”, I shouted.

“He can’t come to the phone Omolade. He was found dead in the early hours of the morning”, Dan blurted out the words all at once.

The phone dropped suddenly from my hand.

“What did he say?” Mom looked at me, eyes wide open and filled with horror. I said nothing. “Omolade, what did the person say?” I said nothing. “Hello, hello”, Mother picked up the phone and spoke repeatedly into it but Dan had hung up.

I held my hands together to my ears and screamed. Then I busted into tears, I knew I had caused his death.

“Take me to my son. I want to see my son”, Mother said.

I looked at her. I cried for her. “Omololu is dead”.

“What? No. I want to see my son,” she repeated.

“He… he said… Omololu is dead”.

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