She was on her way to Ibadan. He had called two days before, asking her forgiveness or at least an attempt at closure. She wanted closure so badly. “Why did he disappear?”, she wanted to know.

 

It had been a year since she last saw him. A year. No goodbyes, no reasons. Just silence. She called and called a phone number that rang and rang. If anyone picked up at all, it was to tell her that he was busy with something and that he would call her back.

 

It didn’t matter that it wasn’t the first time he had done it in the course of their relationship, if one could call what they had a relationship. She didn’t know his house, he never took her there. He always chose to meet at a cinema, a bar or a friend’s place. He mentioned once that he lived in Bariga and that his Dad had many children. But that was it.

 

One thing was constant though, he always disappeared after he borrowed money from her. The first time, she had just got her first pay. As soon as she told him, he suddenly remembered he promised to send his brother some money. 10k, he said. He’d pay back when he got paid him for a pencil art, he said.

 

Weeks after, he went silent. “The number you have called is not reachable at the moment. Please try again later”, the mechanized voice on the phone echoed back when she dialled his phone.

 

She worried for weeks on end. When he called , three months later, it was to say that he had lost his phone and he couldn’t find her number – even though he was in contact with a few of their mutual friends.

 

The second time was for something she couldn’t remember. Again, the silence echoed. HARD. She moved on, realizing that this one would not stay. She really should stop seeking the stray ones – hoping that one of them would become home.

 

Until two days ago. When he called out of blue. He asked her to come to Ibadan. That if she made it, he would explain his disappearance.

 

She arrived the house, after taking a bike from Challenge to a gated estate in Ibadan. On instinct she knew, he didn’t live there. Even as she hoped that this time something about him was real. He met her at the gate, immediately chatting her up as if it had only been yesterday since they last saw each other.

 

He walked to a Mallam nearby to buy some Spaghetti, sachet tomato and eggs. As they walked into the apartment, she asked whose house it was. “It’s my cousin’s”, he said, even though she knew that it was another lie. Soon, they were making out even as he kept promising he’d tell her why he disappeared.

 

He left to make the Spaghetti while she took the time to assess the apartment. There were female shoes in a corner and clothes in a Wardrobe. Another girl’s house, she thought. Was his cousin a girl? It occurred to her that a girl cousins rarely accommodate their male cousins in a single room apartment. Something told her it was yet another lie. She asked him. “She travelled”, he said.

 

She ate her fill of the Spaghetti. He was decent cook, she realised as they started to make out again. She realised how intense it was getting and decided it was time to leave. She was still going back to Lagos.

 

As she rearranged herself, ready to go, he asked, “Can you borrow me 20k? My laptop blew last week and I need it to complete my Masters project.”

“I’ll return it next week”, he concluded.”

 

This was why he had invited her to Ibadan. This request for yet another loan. This thing that he could have done over the phone.

 

There was a distasteful bile in her mouth even as she asked for his details. Her mouth tasted like disgust. And shame.

 

She willed herself straight as she took a cab with him back to Challenge. She willed herself  away even as he told her to call him when she got to Lagos. She knew she would never call.

 

As the bus whisked her back to Lagos, she knew it was the last time she would ever allow herself to see him again.

 

This time, she was the one who would Ghost.

***

 

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