Nwanyieze's POV:
While he drives, I sit silently beside him, enjoying the warmth of his jacket and looking out the window. I'm still trying to figure out why on earth Maduka has to be around me in times of trouble.
Still in my thoughts, I jerk when he calls my name.
"Nwanyieze."
"Hmmm?"
"Tell me about yourself, please."
The request catches me off guard because to me, it's unusual. None of the men I've ever been with have asked me such a personal question. Usually, they just want the sugar. I'm suddenly uncomfortable, and find myself looking down at my hands.
"Why do you want to know?"
He briefly glances at me and smiles. "I'm merely curious and since this car is as silent as a graveyard, I thought it would be a nice way to start up a conversation. But, if you don't want to, then that's fine."
He doesn't look the least bit bothered or disappointed. "Do you want to hear about me, instead?"
The question makes me laugh. "Somebody likes to talk."
"I like talking to people. Making connections, getting to know them. Humans should communicate more in person."
"Wisely said, Professor Maduka...what's your surname?"
"Obiagu."
"Professor Maduka Obiagu."
"What's your last name?"
"Okechukwu."
"You told me your parents are deceased. I'm sorry about that."
"Thank you."
"What's your favourite food?"
"I love abacha," I say with a laugh. "Sadly it's not popular in Lagos."
Maduka's POV:
She loves abacha.
The revelation silences me for a few seconds and I feel her watching me.
As children, before I left the orphanage, the Nwanyieze I knew loved abacha so much that Sister Benedicta used to buy it for us thrice a week in small nylon sacs, and I would tie the end of the little sac, bite a hole through it, and hand it to Nwanyieze so she could suck the meal through the hole.
Usually, she quickly finished hers and demanded for a part of mine, which I was always glad to let her have. Infact, I deliberately ate mine slowly and left a part of it for her.
"Gimme, gimme," was what she always chanted, making grabby hands and reaching for my food.
She taps my arm roughly. "Do you want to get us killed? Abeg oh, tell them say you no see me!" Please, tell them you didn't see me!
"What happened?" I ask, snapping out of my thoughts.
"You almost hit another car!"
"I knew what I was doing," I argue, inwardly cursing myself for zoning out. This was what had been happening, me zoning out sometimes during the day because my mind was being overwhelmed by memories I had suppressed so long ago.
"Ehen. Observant driver," she snorts.
"Who do you stay with now? How long have you been in Lagos?"
"I live with my aunt."
"How long have you been in Lagos?" I repeat.
"Is this an interrogation?"
YOU ARE READING
Preordained #ProjectNigeria
RomanceWhen Maduka meets Nwanyieze, he is certain they are meant to be. He knows she is a woman with secrets, but he cannot stay away from her. He also has secrets of his own, of a past that he has been fearing and seeking to confront at the same time... N...
