WILD WEST OF THE HEART

T H R E E

Fiyin had to work twice as hard.

With an alcoholic father that spends most of his day slouched on the parlor couch, a hundred naira sachet of booze in his hands. A recreative farmer, he’d shamelessly like to be called, when he wasn’t drunk, which was more than half the time.

A recreative farmer, whatever that meant. Perhaps it was just a pair of words he’d picked up from tv, drunk as always. Words that made sense to only he.

She didn’t care, though.

Fiyinoluwa Bamidele.

But she was more than just the girl with a wasteful father, and no mother. The latter, which bonded her with Obi the first time they met. They clicked once they realized the only thing they had in common then were mothers who had abandoned them both.

And when Ola had snuck to Houston, which was what it seemed like, because it was only that day, Obi and Fiyin had known that Ola was traveling.

But that was all a decade ago, things had changed.

Maybe that statement was factual, maybe not. But Obi had found a best friend in Fiyin once Ola was out of the picture and soon they realized they had much more in common than they initially thought.

Like their love for superhero comics at the tender age of ten. Or this particular flavor of chin-chin, a Nigerian junkfood Mary never let Ola eat.

Or how they both were seemingly attracted to boys.

He’d realized when he was thirteen, slouched on her couch as they watched a superhero movie this time. It wasn’t eventful, quite scary for Obi who took an interest in the semi nude character on the screen. He ruffled in the couch, hands running through his hair which he grew out.

“Maybe we should watch another thing” He’d said, as an intimate scene was yet to brace the television.

Fiyin sat well, eyes wide graciously at the screen. She was intrigued, while Obi was scared, scared that what made him feel this way, was the man whose sweaty bod rested on the female’s.

This was one of the few times Fiyin’s father was out, maybe on the farm close to the edge of town, but she didn’t care. These were just two, raging hormonal teenagers watching what they thought was an adventure film from the film stand.

Obi was quick to quench that thought, that uneventful moment at the back of his mind with fear. And for a whole decade, he hadn’t given it much thought. Not of his sexuality, nor his identity.

Fiyin on the other hand, grew into everything she’d hoped. She was radiantly beautiful, aging regressively but in a good way. Whenever the sun slithered against her skin, it glowed quite well.

And she got the most of puberty also.

Like i said, she had to work twice as hard growing up with nothing, no one other than an alcoholic father, and a best friend in Obi. She read twice as hard, to already nurture her intelligence and somehow managed to score a scholarship up until high school. Or what they called secondary school.

Not that her dad ever muttered a word of pride, or validation. She felt she didn’t care though, and she had to juggle between school and selling whatever produce her father brought home at the end of the day.

She’d wear her school uniform and trek further away from her neighborhood, of course. She couldn’t stand the shame of having one of her classmates sight her, hawking fruits from the back of their parent’s luxurious vehicles, she thought.

And whenever it did happen like that, she’d looked to the ground, hoping it just opens up to swallow her. She managed to sell just about enough to make money for her textbooks and stationeries, and the rest, like barely a good apple, she’d eat it for dinner.