*"Couples Issue" - Chapter 4: Pressure Points
1261 Words
*Tags: Drama, Serious, Urban, Bad Ending*
---
Lagos doesn’t break you with one big blow.
It bleeds you. ₦500 here. ₦2,000 there. One notice on the door. One call from school. One “up NEPA” that never comes.
One month after Amaka left, Tunde learned what that felt like.
*Part 1: The 7 Days*
The quit notice said *7 DAYS*.
Day 1: Tunde called 14 people for loan. 12 said “no credit.” 1 said “I’ll get back to you.” 1 blocked him.
Day 2: He sold the TV. ₦25,000. The buyer haggled him down from ₦40k.
Day 3: Chike came back. “Bro, I heard about the notice. Let me help you talk to landlord.”
Tunde didn’t answer. He just packed Chike’s bag and put it outside.
Day 4: NEPA disconnected them. The red seal was on the meter.
Day 5: Kemi called from Ibadan. “Daddy, when are you coming to see us?”
“ soon, baby. Daddy is working.”
Day 6: Landlord’s agent came with two boys. “Oga said if you don’t pay today, we’ll change the lock.”
Tunde had ₦130,000. He begged. “Give me till Friday.”
They left. But they took the fridge.
Day 7: Friday. 11:59pm.
Tunde sat in the dark flat with a mattress on the floor and ₦4,300 in his account.
At 12:03am, his phone rang. Unknown number.
“Mr. Tunde? This is the agent. Oga said you have till tomorrow morning. After that...”
He didn’t finish the sentence.
*Part 2: Ibadan Isn’t Easier*
Amaka thought Ibadan would be peace.
It wasn’t.
Mama Nkechi’s house had 6 people in 3 rooms.
Kemi and Kunle were sleeping on the floor with cousins. The fan was one, and it was always fighting with the light.
Her sales rep job was in Dugbe. She left 5:30am and came back 9pm.
Target: ₦1.5m monthly sales. Commission: 3%.
If she didn’t meet target, no salary.
Her first month: ₦900,000 sales. Salary: ₦0.
“Try harder next month,” her boss said.
Ngozi called every day.
“Sis, you’re wasting your life. Come to Lekki. My husband’s friend has a job. ₦200k. With accommodation.”
“ I have my kids here.”
“So? Bring them. Tunde is not a man.”
Amaka didn’t answer. But at night, she looked at her bank app: ₦18,400.
School called. New school fees: ₦120,000 per child.
“Pay before resumption or they can’t enter class.”
She borrowed ₦50,000 from her mother.
Mama Nkechi gave it and said, “This is the last one. I don’t have again.”
*Part 3: The Debt Spiral*
Tunde moved out on Sunday.
No one helped him. He carried the mattress, the pot, and two bags of clothes to a face-me-I-face-you in Mushin.
₦180,000 a year. No water. Shared toilet. Generator till 12am only.
First night, rats ran over his feet.
He still had to pay Chinedu for the Uber account. ₦20,000 weekly.
He started driving 18 hours. 4am to 10pm.
One Tuesday, a passenger vomited in the car. Chinedu deducted ₦15,000 for cleaning.
Tunde made ₦11,000 that day. After fuel and Chinedu, he was owing ₦8,000.
He called his mom in Benin.
“Son, I only have ₦10,000. Take it.”
He took it and hated himself.
He sent Amaka ₦10,000.
She sent back: _“Thanks. Got it.”_
No “how are you.” No “are you okay.”
*Part 4: The Nest Tightens*
The “nest of characters” didn’t disappear. It just shifted.
*Chike* moved to a friend’s shop in Oshodi. He was selling phone accessories. He still posted things about Tunde on w******p status. _“Some people will use you and dump you. God sees.”_
*Ngozi* started bringing men to see Amaka.
“This one is a manager. This one has a car.”
Amaka smiled and said “I’m married.”
Ngozi rolled her eyes. “Married to who? An address in Mushin?”
*Baba Segun* from church called Tunde.
“Brother, where are you? We haven’t seen you.”
Tunde lied. “I’m traveling for work.”
“Marriage needs work too, brother.”
*Landlord* in Yaba gave the flat to a new tenant 3 weeks later. A corper and her boyfriend.
They posted pictures. New curtains. New paint.
Tunde saw it on f*******: and closed the app.
*Part 5: The Breaking Point - Money*
October.
Tunde got a call from the twins’ old school in Yaba.
“Mr. Okafor, you still owe ₦85,000 for last term. We can’t release their results.”
He had ₦6,200.
He called Amaka.
“Babe, school is calling.”
“I know. They called me too.”
“What do we do?”
“I don’t know, Tunde. I don’t have.”
Silence.
“I can sell my phone,” he said.
“Don’t.”
“Then what?”
She hung up.
That night, Tunde drank. First time in months.
He bought two bottles of Lord’s and sat outside his face-me-I-face-you and watched okada pass.
One of his neighbors, Mama Tolu, sat beside him.
“Oga, you look like someone with problem.”
Tunde laughed. “Which problem? I have all the problems.”
He told her everything. The marriage. The debt. The kids.
Mama Tolu patted his back. “God will do it.”
He went inside and threw up.
*Part 6: The Call That Changed Nothing*
November 3rd. 2am.
Tunde’s phone rang. Amaka.
He jumped up.
“Babe? You okay?”
“Tunde... Kunle has malaria. We’re at the hospital.”
His heart dropped.
“How much?”
“₦47,000. For tests and drugs. I have ₦12,000.”
He did the math in his head. He had ₦9,000.
“I’ll send it now.”
He sent ₦9,000. Then he borrowed ₦20,000 from Chinedu.
“Pay me back Friday.”
He sent it to Amaka.
“Thank you,” she said.
Then: “Tunde, I can’t do this anymore. The borrowing. The calls. The fear.”
He wanted to say “I’ll fix it.”
But he didn’t have words. Because he didn’t have money.
“Okay,” he said.
They both stayed on the line for 10 seconds, listening to each other breathe.
Then she hung up.
Kunle got better.
But something in Tunde didn’t.
*Part 7: Lagos Wins*
By December, Tunde was tired.
Tired of driving. Tired of borrowing. Tired of “next week.”
He missed two weeks of Chinedu’s money. Chinedu took back the account.
He started doing dispatch. ₦1,500 per delivery. On foot and bus.
Amaka’s boss fired her. “Low sales.”
She started selling hair again, but from w******p status. ₦5,000 profit on a good week.
Ngozi stopped calling. “You don’t want help.”
Chike posted: _“Happy new year. New beginnings. Leaving toxic people behind.”_
Christmas came.
Tunde didn’t see the kids.
Amaka sent pictures. New clothes. Cake.
He stared at them for 20 minutes, then deleted them from his gallery.
On December 31st, at 11:58pm, Tunde stood on the roof of his face-me-I-face-you in Mushin.
People were shouting “Happy New Year!” Fireworks. Music.
He looked at his phone. No messages.
Bank balance: ₦1,240.
He whispered to no one: “Happy New Year.”
Lagos answered with generator noise
end of Chapter
- Writer
