FRIDAY
Elsie:
‘Seek and you will find.’ As Elsie stepped out of the women’s bathroom, a faraway woman’s voice stood out among the busyness of the airport. Elsie paused for a moment but didn't turn her head to see who it was. She did not need to see. The message was received, even if she was not the intended target. The promised four-minute walk from where she stood to the gate turned out to be closer to fifteen. Everyone stood exactly as they were before she had first gotten up to use the bathroom. Neither the walk nor the bathroom break helped, because her stomach still felt what her mind tried to ignore. In 48 short hours, she would be in Nigeria and face-to-face with Ayo, the handsome banker she had met on Instagram. Which also meant that she had 24 hours to come up with something to tell Ayo. Something that resembled the truth. That she was not the girl in the pictures but...
It all started when, to pass time as she studied for the Ghanaian Bar exam, Elsie decided to take on an alter ego, Heather. Heather would be everything Elsie was not. For starters, Heather lived in America, Texas to be exact, while Elsie lived in Circle, Accra. Heather was short and curved like the actresses in Nollywood movies, while Elsie was six feet tall and yet to develop any noticeable assets of her own. Heather wore long wigs, and Elsie wore her natural hair in a low cut. Heather was a lawyer; Elsie was sitting for the bar exam for the third time. They couldn’t be any more different; the one thing Heather and Elsie had in common was their personality. In that aspect, Elsie showed up as herself, which felt like more than enough. And she liked it that way. She hoped Ayo wouldn’t mind, after all.
'Tell him the truth,' Gloria, Elsie’s sister, said as she dropped Elsie at the airport. 'Tell him the truth and shame the devil.'
Gloria made it sound easier than it was. She hadn’t seen Ayo’s pictures or heard the background of his life. If she had, Elsie knew she might understand more about where her hesitation came from. His pictures alone would probably stop her right in her tracks, because beauty had a way of making people make sense of the nonsensical. Ayo stood six feet and two inches tall and had a full beard and big brown eyes. As if that wasn't enough, Ayo was the son of two diplomats. He vacationed in Dubai and lived on Banana Island. The pictures would show all of this. They would also show that Ayo was a person who was always partying and surrounded by the prettiest girls, girls like Heather. There was no way, Elsie thought, that he would like someone like her. So, Heather was worn when she stumbled across his Instagram. Elsie knew that Gloria wouldn't understand…couldn't understand. After all, what did Gloria know? She ended up marrying her husband after seeing him only once, from a distance.
Elsie made her way to the back of the line. She had the plane ride and two full days to build courage or come up with a story to account for the fact that she was really Elsie and not Heather. She put one foot in front of the other, and before she knew it, she was on her way to her seat. Row 21, middle seat. Sitting felt better than standing, but touching down in Nigeria would be better. Now all she had to do was get there. To her right, a middle-aged white man with brown feathery hair used his pointer finger to type with a vengeance to someone named Alice. Elsie could see the woman’s name clearly because the font on the man’s phone was large. Just 6 words took up the whole screen. Alice. Why would you do that? Elsie found herself wondering what Alice did and if the feathery-haired man to her left would ever forgive her. To her right, a small boy who couldn’t be more than 8 toyed with his iPad. His parents and sister sat across the aisle and yet, Elsie wondered why they spent the first two minutes after she made her way to the middle seat asking him if he was okay. Did they see something about her that she didn’t see? Would Ayo see that thing too? The aeroplane was no place for racing minds; Elsie closed her eyes hoping to ease into the moment. Everything would be fine, and she would leave the thinking, or as Gloria would say— the plotting and scheming —until she landed.
Ayo:
Life had been generous only in its cruelty to Ayo. He was woken up by the sound of his rumbling belly. Ayo hadn’t eaten anything besides bread and butter in weeks. He was saving up all the money he had for when Heather came. The menu at Yellow Chilli looked expensive. He still hadn’t thought of a way to ask Heather to get the cheapest thing on the menu; otherwise they would be washing plates in the back. Maybe he just wouldn’t eat; after all, bread and butter wasn’t so bad.
Ayo stood up from his mattress and caught a glimpse of himself, and his yellow downcast eyes reflected at him in the mirror. He had bigger issues than food. He was not the Ayo from Instagram. Not anymore, and if he was being honest, not ever. Everything he told Heather was true, in a sense. His parents were diplomats, at least that’s what Mrs Yanga told him, but as he got older Ayo noticed she told all the children in the orphanage that, so he had no way of really knowing if it was true. He vacationed in Dubai— via YouTube and books. And he did live on Banana Island. . . in the boys' quarters of the house he did labour for, which, as one might have guessed, required a lot of mathematical calculations. So, in that sense he was banker-adjacent. The pictures weren’t a lie. Ayo did, in fact, stand at over six feet and had a full beard that connected all the way across his chin. If God had given him nothing, He had given him the looks of a Spartan.
He didn't set out to lie to Heather; it was not his intention in any sense. But intention gave way to survival, instinct, love. Love? With a lawyer in America? She could change his life. Or rather they could build a new life together, a life where he didn’t wake up before roosters, or rotate between Indomie and bread and egg every other night or sleep in a shabby boys' quarter with five roommates in the back of his Oga’s house. In his new life, he would be woken up to breakfast in bed by his new lovely and rich American wife. The rest did not matter for now. They would figure it out along the way. For now, the only thing Ayo had to figure out was if his clothes had dried or not. He had 24 hours to prepare for his first impression. He would not be time’s fool.
As Ayo took his first step outside, the dampness of yesterday’s rain hung in the air. A pit immediately began to form in Ayo’s stomach. He opened his mouth to catch what he thought was rain falling from the sky. But there was no rain. Only remnants. If his clothes were wet, that would add another chore to his already growing list to do before Heather got there. He already had to go get a haircut. His first in over a year. After that, he had to finish washing the windows of the houses in the compound. The rain helped as much as it hurt. Ayo walked towards the back of the compound and found his clothes as he expected. Despite the sight before him, Ayo smiled as he took his clothes off the clothes pin, wringing out each item before carefully laying them back out as he found them. He continued to smile as he ignored the rumbling in his belly as he made his way to the front gate after he finished re-hanging all of his clothes. He would have to ask Mr Tobi to barb his hair for free so he could eat after the cut. His jeans pockets had no loose bills living in them, as they sometimes did. He could feel himself growing weak.
To take his mind off his growing hunger and the mile-long walk ahead of him, his thoughts went to the place that allowed him to daydream. Ayo pictured what it would be like to meet Heather for the first time. If, in person, she would sound like the nasally Americans he watched on TV. If she would look like her pictures. He wondered how an American girl like her knew so much about Africa and was able to find a ticket to Nigeria after only one month of talking. Ayo always heard about how expensive tickets to America were, so Heather had to be especially rich to buy a ticket on such short notice. But what he liked more about her was her understanding of a life he was not sure how she knew anything about. Maybe it was through her cousin Elsie, who Heather sometimes talked about, that she could understand the hardship of NEPA taking light, the dryness of harmattan, his lack of fear for stray dogs that wandered too close for comfort, or the fact that most mornings he ate bread and egg for breakfast sans coffee and waffles. Somehow, she just understood what daily life in Nigeria looked like, down to her use and understanding of pidgin. The dampness of the air waned and Ayo began to get thirsty. He stopped walking right as he reached a small shop that sold Coke products. He couldn’t go without putting something in his stomach for even one more step.
'Chin Chin and water. One four. Naira.'
Mr Tobi would definitely give him a free haircut, Ayo told himself as he handed the cashier his money.
SATURDAY
Elsie:
'Today is the day', Elsie sang as she made her way down the hallway to the elevator at the Lagos Continental Hotel. Her plan was coming together. By the end of the night, she would dance in Ayo’s declaration of love. The clock on the wall next to the elevator said it was noon. Elsie wondered why she hadn’t heard from Ayo all morning. 'Maybe he’s just busy getting ready.' She told an exasperated Gloria over the phone.
'It’s just not making sense, Elsie. What kind of thing is this? He doesn't even know what you look like. How will he know it’s you when you show up. . . you haven’t thought this out, Elsie. . . you haven’t.'
'Trust me, he’ll recognise me.' A grin began to form on Elsie’s face. She was glad she had slowly introduced Elsie to Ayo, by picture and reputation. This was her plan underneath it all. This is how she was so sure.
'Just be careful. What if he is doing like you and he also isn’t the man in his pictures?'
'He is, I am sure of it.' Elsie said, realising for the first time the thought had never crossed her mind. She was so caught up in her own head, in her own story, so much so that she did not even consider for a second that Ayo might not be who he said he was. He had to be who he said he was.
'You better hope so.'
'Hope. Now, I have to go get my nails done. What colour says, it's true you’ve found me?'
'Red.'
'Red, it is.'
I haven’t heard from you. Is everything okay? Elsie sent her second message in the last hour, the first of which said: Hello? and there was still no response. Elsie zoned out the voices of the sea of women that filled the nail shop and went to the quiet place in her mind. What if Gloria was right? What if Ayo wasn’t who he said he was? His voice sounded like his pictures, deep and rich and layered in life experiences. He spoke with the confidence of a travelled man who did not change his accent just because he had travelled outside of Nigeria so much. He of course had never heard her voice, her real voice. To sound more like Heather and less like herself, she slowed her words, raised her tone two octaves, and plugged her nose. It wasn’t perfect, but she sounded like the American girls on the TV. And apparently it was good enough for Ayo not to suspect anything; even if he did, he never let any suspicion be known.
'What’s it like in America?' Ayo would ask on occasion during their daily phone calls. 'Is the sky really more blue? Are all the girls as beautiful as you?' He would laugh.
'Define more blue.' Elsie would answer. Ayo could not see the brightness that gathered in her eyes as she spoke. An unwavering flicker would dance across her lips, and the corners of her mouth would slowly curl upward.
'Very funny. I’m still waiting for the picture of you and that blue American sky.' Ayo would respond and just like the sanctity of the moment would be gone. Elsie would be reminded that she was not who she said she was. There was so much he didn’t know.
A sudden razor-sharp pinch brought Elsie back from the haze of her flashback. Her focus shifted from Ayo to the source of her discomfort. The woman doing her nails clipped a nail too short, sending a jolt of pain through her big toe. On the surface, a ruby bead blossomed. Somehow, not even the sight of blood moved her. Elsie blamed her own absent-minded reverie. Now, the delicate balance of her inner world was shattered, replaced by the raw immediacy of her toe’s sensation and the stark realisation of her reality – she still hadn’t heard from Ayo.
'Still nothing?' Gloria’s worry from the morning had shifted to annoyance. 'Elsie, this is ridiculous; you better just come home. End this madness.' Gloria pleaded in big sister fashion.
'He’ll be there.' Elise tried to hide her own annoyance. Her red dress clung to her narrow hips as she twirled around the room, trying to forget her growing disdain. He would be there because he had to be. Her thoughts spiralled along with the fringes on her dress. He will be there. 'I have to go; traffic will be bad. Wish me luck.' Elsie headed towards the door. She was ready to meet Ayo. He would be there, she reminded herself as Gloria’s voice floated in one ear and out the other.
'My sister, why do you like trouble? You will need more than luck.'
Ayo:
Ayo got up before the sun. The darkness outside took up so much space and he could barely tell his right hand from his left. The candle that flickered in the corner added more heat than light. Yesterday did not go as planned, so he still hadn’t eaten more than the chin chin he got on the way to get his haircut. Unfortunately, Mr Tobi did not agree to cutting his hair for free. Which is why Ayo found himself up before the sun, preparing to cut the tree leaves for extra money. Among the trees, even as his strength waned, thoughts of. Heather fed his growing hunger. He could not wait to hug her tall, trim frame, to see her long legs, to run his hands through her long hair. He wondered if the same thoughts ran through Heather’s mind. He would call her when the sun came up; her sweet voice would be a fruit melody. Ayo tried to, but he couldn’t get yesterday off his mind.
'To be a man is to suffer for love. Work for it. I would be doing you a disservice if I barbed your hair for free.' Mr Tobi spoke in a stern voice, his eyes never once leaving Ayo’s.
'Mhm.' Ayo said, breaking eye contact. He regretted immediately baring his soul to the old man who stood behind the worn black leather chair. The lines that lived near Mr Tobi’s mouth, his weathered face and furrowed brows, bore the weight of many loveless years, Ayo thought. But Ayo brought his eyes back from where they wandered to meet Mr Tobi; this time, what he saw instead of lovelessness was eyes that were sharp and discerning despite their age.
'I'll come back tomorrow– ' Ayo said, turning to leave the wooden hut from which he entered.
'Good.' Mr Tobi said, turning his back before Ayo even took one full step towards the door.
Despite being up before the sun, the trees did not provide the shade he required. The heat coming from Ayo’s body felt inside out. Gradually, as the sun poked its head up, its rays made their way towards Ayo, as if he was the destination. Now, the heat was both inside out and outside in. Sweat began to trickle down Ayo’s face. Ayo turned around to walk towards the main house; he had worked long enough. All he needed was his money and he would be on his way to get his haircut. He would call Heather when he got inside and was in the shade. He imagined how worried she must have been. He would assure her that everything was okay, and he would see her later for dinner. But each step Ayo took was a struggle. The rays had grown relentless, sapping his strength with each passing moment, yet Ayo pushed himself forward. Heather was on the other side of his exhaustion. His steps grew smaller and smaller. Suddenly, and before he ever made it to the door of the main house, Ayo’s world dissolved into nothingness; everything that was once light was suddenly black. The harshness of the sun faded into the nothingness; a cool chill ran over his limbs. The sound of the tree leaves was replaced by the steady rhythm of his own heartbeat — echoing. Ayo succumbed to the embrace of unconsciousness; his body crumbled to the ground. He lay there motionless, a heap of limp limbs and shattered dreams.
Kehinde Winful is a first-generation Nigerian-American attorney and author. Her debut novel, Flooding the River, was published in January 2025. Her most recent short story, Yellow Chillies, can be found in Issue One of Akowdee Literary Magazine, May 2024. Her work has also been featured in African Writers Magazine and Bandit Fiction.
Photo by Gustavo Fring