F.A.T-Chaper Ten

The days sped by like rushing winds. Graduation loomed closer, and I found myself poring over my yearbook, unable to believe how much had happened within a year. The loss of Mum. The sudden weight of responsibility, being both sister and mother to Chinaza. The countless nights of tears, balanced by God’s steady presence. And in the middle of it all, friends who never let me sink, and Tunde, always there, always steady.

At a buka opposite the university, my friends laughed and bickered around me as we shared a fruit salad. Then, like a burst of sunshine, Chinaza rushed in, her school uniform slightly crumpled, her braids bouncing. She wrapped me in a bear hug, her backpack sliding off her shoulders. I stared at her, pride swelling in my chest. She had borne Mum’s death with a maturity beyond her years. In truth, she had comforted me more than I had comforted her. As I brushed biscuit crumbs off her uniform, I whispered a silent promise to God: I will always look out for her.

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“Thank you, dear,” Mrs. Taiwo, my project supervisor, said with a knowing smile as I handed in the last corrections. Her cheeks were so round they couldn’t hide her grin.

I forced a polite smile and escaped her office, my bag already open for the half-finished prawn crackers inside. Just then, Funke appeared and looped her arm through mine, dragging me along.

“Where are you running to?” she teased.

“Anywhere but here,” I muttered, crunching on my cracker.

She eyed me suspiciously. “What did Mrs. Taiwo want? You’re done with your project.”

“Helped her sort out some questions. She said she found me worthy,” I said with a roll of my eyes, reaching for the smoothie on the car dashboard.

“Owww!” I yelped as a sudden smack landed on my back.

I turned in shock to see Alfred in the back seat, glaring at me. “That’s mine.”

I stared, wide-eyed. “How was I to know someone was in the back?”

Funke and Alfred chorused in unison, “By checking the backseat!”

I groaned, throwing up my hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. Lesson learned. I’ll be more observant.”

They exchanged knowing smiles, and Alfred smirked. “Wow. She actually apologized. Mark today’s date, Funke.”

Opening the front door later that evening, the sound of Tunde’s laughter mixed with Chinaza’s shrieks made me smile. She dashed toward me, hugged me tight, then disappeared back into her room.

“Hey, lady,” Tunde said, emerging from the living room.

“Hey, man,” I teased back, opening my laptop at the dining table.

He cocked a brow. “We’re done with all school work.”

“I know. Mrs. Taiwo needed a favour.”

“Let me help.”

“It’s just three questions, Tunde. I can handle it.”

“Still,” he said, dragging out a chair beside me, “I want to.”

I gave in, raising my hands in mock surrender. “Fine.”

Much later, as exhaustion pulled at my eyelids, I yawned. “Good night, Tunde.”

He hesitated. “I’m not really the sofa kind of sleeper.”

I laughed. “I don’t expect you to sleep there. Take Mum’s room.” He stiffened. “I can’t.”

And I understood. He hadn’t known her long, but he had respected her, and sleeping in her room felt too heavy.

“Take mine then,” I said softly. “I’ll stay in hers.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I whispered, though it felt like I was convincing myself more than him.

We hugged, long and warm, before parting for the night. Upstairs, I collapsed onto Mum’s bed and wept, the sobs wracking my body until sleep finally embraced me.

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Graduation came with a rush of joy and disbelief. Amid the sea of gowns and caps, I searched for Tunde. When our eyes met, he broke away from his friends and swept me off my feet.

“I’ve been waiting to do that,” he whispered.

I frowned. “I’m not ready.”

“When will you ever be?” His hand brushed my cheek gently. “I’m done waiting. I want to spend my life with you. And I’ll show you why this is meant to be.”

He pulled me toward a sleek black Jaguar parked a short distance away. Inside was a man whose resemblance to Tunde was unmistakable; same sharp jawline, same confident eyes, though softened with age and streaks of wisdom in his white hair.

The door opened, and he stepped out, arms outstretched. Before I could react, he pulled me into a firm, fatherly embrace.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice deep yet tender, “for taking care of my son when I couldn’t.”

Tears stung my eyes at the weight of his words. “On the contrary, sir. Your son took care of me, and of my younger sister.”

Tunde nudged me playfully, “You took care of me first, na.” His father chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “I haven’t got all day to hear you two lovebirds bicker.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. “Oh, we aren’t dating, sir,” I blurted, embarrassed. He countered with a sly grin. "In six months, we'll know better.”

Tunde smirked, leaning closer, daring me to deny it further. “Exactly.”

I shot him a dagger look, but his father only laughed louder. “Well, it’s good to finally meet you, Adaobi. I’ve heard so much. And I’m sorry for your loss. Your mother would be so proud of the woman you’ve become.” The words pierced my heart and soothed it all at once. I smiled weakly and hugged him again. He handed me a beautifully wrapped hamper. “For Chinaza,” he said, before taking his leave.

Back at the ceremony, the world seemed to close in again, friends cheering, laughter spilling everywhere. Funke ran toward us, eyes wide. “I saw the Superman Move oh”

“I think the whole school did,” I muttered, still flushed.

She fist-bumped Tunde. “Correct guy. Finally did the needful.”

I gawked at the two of them. “Wait—so you’ve both been plotting against me?”

“Make that three,” Alfred’s voice came from behind. He leaned in with a mischievous grin. “So all of you have been scheming, abi?”

They burst into laughter, unashamed. Alfred bent close to whisper, “I’m not giving up on you. Even if I have to wait till you’re ninety-five.”

I laughed, shaking my head at his stubbornness. Tunde smacked him playfully. “By ninety-five, I’ll still be around to chase you off.” We all spilled out of the university grounds like one big, noisy family. Chinaza sat perched on top of Tunde’s car, happily tearing into the hamper, her legs swinging carefree. 

Later, at my house, food and drinks awaited us, lovingly prepared by our parenI gos who had quietly disappeared to give us space. Laughter echoed through the rooms as we feasted together. When I slipped away into Mum’s room, her scent lingered on her pillow, wrapping me like an embrace.

 Memories flooded in; her laughter, her teasing, her voice soothing me when I had come crying after being laughed at by some secondary school bullies who had call me Oroboskiboroki, she had cradled me and reassuredly told me “When anyone calls you FAT, tell them you are indeed FAT.”

Mum instilled love, grace, and confidence in me, and with the help of God, I will do the same for Chinaza, i pressed the pillow to my chest, whispering into the silence, “I am FAT: Favoured. Anointed. Triumphant.”

And for the first time in a long while, I truly believed it.