Walking down the narrow passage between buildings, I emerged onto the street. Turning left, a small provision store came into view. As I approached, I noticed an old woman asleep inside on a narrow bench—one I was sure was wildly uncomfortable. A young woman, probably in her early twenties, stepped out to attend to me.
"Good morning," I greeted.
She didn't respond immediately. We both hesitated, unsure how to address each other. I was fairly certain she was older than me, but I also knew that many girls around her age—or girls like her in general—didn't particularly like being greeted traditionally if you were younger by even a year.
On her end, she didn't seem sure how to address me either. I suspected—though I could be wrong—that she had a bit of a crush on me, or at least some mild attraction, despite how few interactions we'd had.
Truth be told, I was attracted to her too. She was pretty. But I was terrible at non-platonic relationships.
I'd had girlfriends before, but things always ended the same way. I wouldn't call unless it felt necessary—at best, maybe once a month. According to them, the lack of attention was unbearable, and eventually we'd break up.
At first, I didn't understand it. My male friends and I could go an entire month without talking, then meet up and act like nothing had changed. With girls, though, silence translated into attitude, then resentment.
Eventually, I understood enough for my friends to start calling me "the fumbler," joking that my spirit animal was a cat.
But all of that was secondary.
The real reason was far more depressing—and one I still hadn't told anyone.
A few weeks ago, I'd started feeling ill. Nothing dramatic, just… wrong. I went to the school hospital, expecting something minor.
Instead, I was diagnosed with HIV, caught early.
The news brought my world to a complete standstill.
As embarrassing as it was—and despite the fact that I'd always been able to get girls—I had never had sex. I hadn't even kissed a girl. I couldn't understand how this had happened.
Every day since, I'd felt dispirited. Empty. I didn't know how to bring it up at home, especially when the atmosphere was already heavy. So I wore a smile instead.
I'd always been slender, so there were no visible physical changes yet. I hoped—desperately—that things would stay that way for as long as possible.
After picking up the items I needed, I did the calculations and opened my banking app to make a transfer—only to realize I was ₦500 short.
I sighed and forced a smile.
"Sorry, I'm short ₦500 at the moment. Can I—"
"Don't worry about it."
She cut me off before I could finish, making me look up at her.
"I mean… you can pay it back later," she added quickly. "I know your siblings—you can't run."
She stuttered through the explanation, even though it didn't really need one.
I smiled back. It felt good—knowing I still had at least one thing going for me.
FLASH! BOOM!
Our attention snapped toward the distance. We both stepped out of the store and saw a plume of smoke rising into the sky.
I was confused. I was sure I'd seen a flash before the explosion.
"What the hell was that?" I muttered.
Turning to her, I joked, "Have Boko Haram finally reached us here in Delta State?"
She didn't find it funny.
"God forbid, Kamcy," she said sharply. "Stop making such comments. I don't want terrorists ending my life so soon, oo."
I shook my head. I wasn't interested in investigating further. I'd rather go home. I knew how gossip travelled in this area—the story would reach me soon enough.
Besides, it was a small town.
Shrugging, I continued with my day. I had more pressing issues.
Later, walking out of the gas station office, I sighed. I'd just submitted an application letter along with my CV, hoping to get a job until school resumed.
Honestly, I wasn't even sure I wanted to go back to school. The drive just wasn't there anymore.
Not feeling like heading home immediately, I decided to pass time at a spot I knew—a so-called business center near our house.
Calling it a stroll was generous. I simply couldn't afford transport.
When I arrived, a few boys were already loitering around. I didn't actually know what business the place conducted—I'd just mentally labeled it a business center.
Finding a small space, I sat down without greeting anyone. They already had their clique, and I didn't feel like talking.
I took out my phone and turned on Wi-Fi.
Yes, the place had free Wi-Fi. For some reason, the owners hadn't bothered setting a password—and didn't seem to mind people using it.
I connected and opened my class group chat, scrolling silently as usual. I rarely spoke unless necessary. Mostly, I just watched to see if anything useful came up.
DING!
A smile crept onto my face. It was my personal friend group chat.
Kevin: how's your holiday man
Mike: I have a feeling you're just stalking the class group chat
I typed back.
Kamcy: @mike please leave me be
Kamcy: @kevin the air is better here 😂
Kevin: you better bring yam tubers back from your village
Mike: I agree, bring food. I'm tired of junk this semester 😤
Kamcy: place your hope somewhere else or you'll starve
Kamcy: and it's a town, not a village 😒
Kevin: how are the village babes treating you
Mike: don't dodge the food matter. I'll become Hannibal
Kamcy: what village babes? it's a town
Kevin: by the way, what's the name of that place again? I heard terrorists attacked some village
Mike: yeah same
I frowned.
First—I'd ignored a terrorist attack and could've died.
Second—did these idiots think all villages were the same?
Kamcy: not all villages are one place. And yeah, it actually happened here. I thought it was a gas explosion
Kamcy: damn, I actually need to check the news
Mike: no need. the "GREAT AMERICANS" are apparently helping now
Kamcy: good, but I'll still confirm from official sources
Mike: stay safe. you're our only hope for food 😁
After skimming the news, it seemed there was no immediate need to panic. The terrorists had retreated after the bombing. The military had responded. The situation was "under control." and indeed as my friends said the US had offered to help and the Nigerian government had agreed to their aid and should arrive within the week which I felt something was wrong with the entire situation.
Sighing I stood up.
It was time to go home.
Between my health and the news, I didn't feel safe staying outside any longer.