NEVER LET THE HAIR DOWN 🌸🌸🌸 Chapter Eleven

 

Inspired by a lovely girl named Holy.

I didn't see Fumnanya for the rest of the break. Although it was only a week, it felt like a dreadfully long time. In that long period, I had more than once headed to Akintola hostel, but the fear of meeting those eyes that had penetrated me with guilt always scared me back.

"I'm sorry," were the words I wanted to tell her so desperately. Not much to say and I could easily send it to her DM but I wanted to do it the right way to show her my words were sincere.

I got the chance on the first day of lectures. Majority of my classmates returned with gloomy faces. Once again, democracy had been thwarted and a ruler had been imposed. I'm not so surprised since this is Nigeria.

"Okay, Chanok. Let's do this," I muttered to myself after class and walked to the quadrangle. I repeated the words to kill the urge to give up my plan. My pride was welling up and I was already seeing apologizing to someone who had hurt me during an anonymous night as ridiculous.

As I had guessed, Fumnanya was at the quadrangle. She was smiling and watching a video on her phone. She looked up and saw me. Then she turned her eyes. In that brief second our eyes had met, all the joyfulness I knew her for had hardened to cold displeasure.

"Hey, Fumnanya," I said and waved at her.

"Hi," was the simple and cold reply. I preferred her bugging me with facts about Thailand to this.

I sat beside her and looked for how to begin. "So, what are you watching?" I asked looking at the Korean actors on her screen. As simple as that question was, I had struggled fiercely to voice it out.

Fumnanya pulled off her earpiece and looked at me. Here it comes, I thought. "You know, I can just leave. I know I'm friendly to a fault but making people uncomfortable with my company is the last thing I want to do." Then she stood up to leave.

"Fumnanya..." I said in a shaky voice and reached for her hand. She saw I wanted to speak and gave me attention. I began, stuttering initially, "It's just... I didn't... I didn't mean to hurt you. Honestly!" I sighed, "When I was up on that hill saying all that stuff, I didn't really mean it. You are a very kind and friendly person. It's just that everytime I was with you, I felt betrayed. You always reminded me of Aisha. She used to be my friend but she stabbed me in the back and told lies about me and the people I love. I trusted her so much. I called her my friend, but she was fake. She made all my classmates believe the worst about me just because I was a... Half-caste. I thought you'd do the same. I judged you just like how they judged me.

I sighed. I had used the h word on myself. It was worth it though because Fumnanya sat down again. She looked at me kindly. I wanted to smile at her, but the memories overwhelmed me and blurred my vision. "She's a terrible person for doing that," I heard her say.

"Yeah," I sniffled and forced a smile. "She isn't even the worst I've faced. Someone close to me rumoured that I was the daughter of a heathen prostitute who had won her husband's heart with black magic." I laughed at how funny it sounded.

"That sounds like a horrible person," Fumnanya said trying to comfort me.

I wiped my cheek and said in a small voice, "That person is my grandmother." Fumnanya turned her face to me sharply. I continued in spite of my tears, "She was always so hard on my mother. She never accepted us; me and my sister. I usually thought that it was because I was half Igbo and half different. I wanted to show her I was just as Igbo as my Nigerian cousins. I was willing to love her, to please her, but since the day my mother left us, I knew I'd never love my other half. I'd never love her or my father." I chuckled at how passionate I sounded and added, "Maybe I'm just over exaggerating. I know it's hard but I do want to love them. It just feels easier to love my Thai grandmother although I never saw her before her passing." I laughed.

"I'm sorry, Marahadum. I didn't know you were going through a lot," Fumnanya said as I wiped my eyes which had surprisingly formed a waterfall on my face.

"Yeah," I chuckled, "I guess being a half-caste is worse than anyone thinks. When I started school, I had hopes that I would make a lot of friends. Thailand kids didn't really accept me. Startling, right? They always looked at me like I was too black. In Nigeria, it was way worse. Whenever I stepped into a room, it was like I was a bright light and everyone around me were moths. They were always gazing at me. I grew so sensitive, especially about my hair. They mistook it for pride and then I became the stuck-up snob that didn't make friends. I was so alone, and when someone wanted to be my friend, I was betrayed."

How much I had revealed already! I thought and coloured a little. I looked at Fumnanya and found her rubbing her eyes. "Are you okay?" I asked grinning nervously.

"Yeah. It's just dust in my eye," she said and sniffled. I laughed and she laughed too.

"I'm really sorry, Fumzy," I said when the rubbing continued.

"Oh, no. No need to apologize. If there's anyone that should apologize, it's us that judge you thinking your life is a bed of roses."

I smiled to show I appreciated her words. She smiled back and then gripped her fingers guiltily, "Then I'm sorry for the time I looked at your hair. You must have felt uncomfortable."

"No. It's okay," I said trying to laugh it off.

"I'm also sorry about the anonymous message," she said and I startled slightly. "You see, I know who sent it but I wasn't paying attention when she said she wanted to advice you about you-know-who. I guess it must have hurt you. I'm sorry I didn't stop her, but I scolded her afterwards."

"It's cool." I hesitated. "I'm also sorry. I know who sent the anonymous message about you too. I couldn't defend you. Not even a bit," I sighed.

"It's cool," she mimicked me and we laughed.

Thank God, I thought. I had gone through with it and felt so much better. I had even shared my story with her. Indeed, sharing one's sorrows with the right person is comforting.

"I have something for you," Fumnanya broke the silence. She nervously opened her bag and retrieved a carton box. She pulled it out from the polythene bag and gave it to me.

"A selfie stick?" I said growing pink and teary.

"I saw you and your roommates in front of pharmacy building once. You were taking selfies. I thought you felt bad about not being as tall as them and not getting to hold the camera so I got this. Don't worry! I didn't buy it. My sister gave it to me and I've never used it. I'm not even a picture person. I guessed you like pictures, so..." she laughed. She talked faster, clear signs she was really nervous.

"You climbed Vet mountain to give this to me?" I asked unbelievably.

"Yeah. I wasn't following you two though. I just happened to have it when I saw you..."

"Thank you!" I cried and hugged her tightly. As I did so, my hoodie fell off my head. I didn't bother to put it back. I closed my eyes and smiled when Fumnanya sniffled and hugged me back gently.

"This is literally the best thing anyone has ever given me," I said and broke the hug. Accidentally, Fumnanya's fingers got caught in my bun and as she pulled away from me, my hair loosened and fell in curly locks behind my back.

"Oh, my God! Sorry. I'm so..." Fumnanya cried in fear.

"It's cool. Don't worry about it. I don't even like tying my hair to a bun," I said. I looked at her eyes and saw how she deeply admired the length.

"Em..." she began reluctantly.

"Do you want to?" I asked and she nodded cutely. I turned my back to her and felt her gently stroke my hair.

"It's beautiful," she said.

"Thanks. Now, to test this." With excitement, I removed the selfie stick from the box (it was yellow!) and fixed my phone to it. It fitted perfectly. Then I held it at an angle that captured Fumnanya and me. I muttered, another video for Wanida.

"Hi, sis. Sup? So, today I want you to meet Fumnanya, the kindest, coolest, friendliest girl you'll ever meet."

"Anyeongseyo... I mean... Yo, Marahadum's sister. What's kicking? You fly, innit?" Fumnanya said with gangster vibes.

"She's not a gangster!" I cried and we laughed. Together.

To be continued 🧣