Thinking of losing you is like living without water. Fix me because I am in pieces and my heart bleeds. The songs you sing to me lingers in my memory like a lullaby. Oh, ayanfẹ mi, how can I leave when we are meant to build our world together. If I go, I will see your smile no more which frames like the radiating sun. This is a battle between love and fate Segun. Mom and dad talk about Biafra every day, the suffering they passed through, the hate they have and the scar the war left behind passing from generation to generation. I fear there will be another war this 21century severing you and I.
Ọkọ mi, wake me from this nightmare, press your lips against mine like you used to. How can I forget the taste of your saliva like honey and how ecstatic I feel when I’m around you. I never knew love could feel so good. They talk about the brutal treatments they receive from Nigeria. When in protests Segun, let our country hear the voice of our people and meet their needs. My heart grieves, I know it hurts my parents but I just wish we can slowly let go of the past and let time heal our wounds. I don’t want a divided Nigeria just like I don’t want a divided us. Ayọ mi, I thought you will always be mine like Biafra will always be Nigeria’s. Dad insists I marry an Igbo man and forbids any other. He talks about the scars the war left behind, the bloodshed, loss of lives and lack of food which led to malnutrition and death.
I feel your pain daddy but I’ll bleed for this man and intercede for Nigeria, making all the sacrifices, taking all the punches just to make sure Segun is safe. I want to wake up and see you beside me, of course, not without the marriage rite. Oh, Segun, I can remember your words like a ringing bell, “Mase fimi sile, duro timi, don’t leave me, I need you. Stay with me, you are the puzzle of my heart.” You whispered it to my ears when I almost let go. Mum constantly reminds me of how the Nigerian military blockaded supplies from reaching us which lead to the death of her fore forefathers. How we lack resources, investment, and facilities. She talks about the roads on the street and how shameful it is to walk by potholes and dirty streets. How some of the protesters are being killed and arrested. I responded, “Nigeria fix your mess before you lose it all,” The deep friendships I cherish all my life, the diversity, the love, ethnicity and joy they have brought into my life, the world we’ve built together and Aisha who always helped me with Chemistry and Physics.
Mom talks about malnourished people, the innocent lives that were killed then and even during this present protest. Ha! Nigeria stops this madness. Biafra, I must go and cling to the one my heart beats and craves for. Ololufe, if I try to say goodbye, engulf me in your embrace and say you’ll stick to me like trees that stick to the riverbank bearing fruit and bring life. You have so much added value to my life making it more meaningful. This love is too costly and can’t be traded for gold. Your loss can’t be replaced, dear passion of my soul. So tell me it’s a lie, ife mi! Tell me this is not the end of us, tell me this is not a battle between love and fate! Tell me!
your heartbeat and
half of your rib