Wake Me Up When Love is Enough

n busy days, Ify looked forward to the drive to her girlfriend’s house. Ify loved her job but on days like this, full of reviewing creatives and writing go-to-market strategies at short notice, she dreamed of quitting and escaping into a fantasy life – preferably with Somto. 

As she reviewed yet another document, her phone beeped. “Come as soon as you can.” Ify’s anticipation turned to worry. The last time Somto had needed to see her urgently, it was to reveal that she was getting married to the man her parents had matched her with. Ify knew she wouldn’t get any more work done, so she shut down her laptop and got into her red Toyota Corolla. Before driving onto the main road, she stopped by the supermarket beside her office to pick up a box of Cadbury’s Dairy Milk — Somto’s favourite. 

On the way, she turned on the speakers and Asa’s “Don’t Let Me Go” came on. Instead of the numbness she had hoped for, Asa’s soft pleas took her to her first weeks at the University of Lagos when she had met Somto at the back of the lecture theatre.  From their first conversation, they were inseparable. They sat together in class, had lunch together, and went home hand in hand. In their second semester, Ify moved into Somto’s off-campus apartment and their classmates started to call Ify Somto’s handbag. Ify introduced Somto to her dad, who was excited she had a friend he could call when he couldn’t reach his daughter. “She’s calm. I like this friendship for you,” he said. He sent pocket money every week for both of them and they’d use it to buy second-hand clothes in the main car park. 

As they grew closer, Ify slowly realised that the biggest threat to their relationship was men. Every time they walked home together, there was one man or the other insisting on taking Somto’s number. Sometimes, she humoured them while Ify stood guard, making sure things didn’t go further. It wasn’t Somto’s fault her skin glowed like honey in the sun. All Ify could do was protect her as much as she could, making sure none of the guys crossed their boundaries. 

One time, Ify was standing guard when a guy tried to kiss Somto, even after she said no. Ify was close to landing him a slap but instead, she said, “Oya, come and be going.” The boy stared at her, but she knew he wouldn’t do anything to her other than yell “Boy-girl!” as he walked away. She knew what she looked like with her broad shoulders and stout physique, always in T-shirts and jeans, never wearing makeup. She wasn’t as afraid of it being pointed out as she was of Somto’s reaction when that happened. 

That night, they walked home in silence. The next morning, Somto had her bath and left the house without waiting for Ify. In class, when Ify saw her sitting in front, her heart sank. Ify walked home alone, thinking of how she would talk to Somto when she got back. She wanted to tell her she was sorry for whatever it was that made her silent, that she was sorry for the thing that couldn’t be named. She woke up hours later to Somto’s loud bangs on the door. It was past 11 p.m. Somto’s hair was a mess and she wasn’t wearing her bra. “Please move.” She took off her shoes as she staggered into the room. Ify, grateful that she was talking now, asked where she had been all day. 

“Are you now my mother?” Somto retorted.

“I was worried about you and you haven’t spoken to me since yesterday. No phone call to say when you’d be coming. I mean, look at the time. What if something happened to you?”

Somto laughed before asking if Ify was a child that needed to be checked on every waking second. Ify didn’t say anything after that. She lay on the bed and faced the wall so she didn’t have to see Somto undress. Somto refused to talk to her throughout the next day too. Even when Ify cooked food, Somto did not eat it.  Later that night, after Somto had taken her bath, as she massaged coconut oil into her skin, Ify said, “I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” 

“Well, I was and I am.” That night was the first time they cuddled to sleep, forming the basis of the pattern that defined their relationship — push here, pull there. Whenever they fought, Ify always apologised first because she couldn’t imagine a world where she wasn’t close to Somto. 

The first time Somto and Ify had sex, it wasn’t planned. They had just come back to Somto’s apartment at about 5 am. Somto lay on the bed naked as usual, ready to sleep. Something about the moon’s bluish tint glowing on Somto’s skin made Ify reach for her. The mattress was narrow so she didn’t have to reach far to touch Somto’s breasts. She expected Somto to stop her, to be the voice of reason. Instead, Somto rushed towards a kiss in a way that showed she’d been waiting for this to happen for a long time. Their lips stayed locked as their hands explored the rest of their bodies. That night, Somto’s ass felt softer than it usually did when Ify spanked her as a joke. It moved like hot starch, yielding to Ify’s touch. 

Everything happened so fast. Their kisses felt like soft confessions in each other’s mouths. Their hands rubbed warmth into each other’s bodies. They were so close that Ify could feel the hair on Somto’s skin rise. It went from kissing to Ify sitting on Somto’s thigh with her fingers between Somto’s legs. She loved that with every stroke, her own body reacted with a zap. Ify moved her hips until an orgasm seared through every end of her body, dragging with it a shiver that left her quaking on Somto’s thighs. As their bodies settled, Ify tried to hold on to Somto, but she resisted, turning her back. At first, Ify thought Somto regretted it, but then the sex became a regular occurrence. 

After a few months of living together as a couple masquerading as best friends, people started to grow suspicious. One day, Ify and Somto invited Adio, their class rep, to their house so he could teach them ENG 201. They bought Smirnoff Ice to make the lesson fun. Everything was going fine until Adio blurted out, “Somto, you know say you fine sha? Like, you fine die, but na on top Ify matter you wan die put. Ify wey no even get money.” 

Ify felt her heart sink because she knew that the blood in Somto’s veins must have paused for a second or two. They all laughed about it because how do you respond to that? Left to Ify, she didn’t give a shit what anybody thought, but she knew how terrified Somto was of disappointing her parents. She didn’t want anyone even thinking about their relationship. Later that night, after three months of fucking every other night, Somto suggested they find boyfriends. Within weeks, a man was in Somto’s life and she stopped letting Ify touch her. 

By the next semester, Ify had had enough, and she moved back to campus. She only saw Somto in class and when they went to the salon together. One day during exams, Somto had an early paper so she asked Ify if she could spend the night at her hostel. The answer was, of course, yes. Somehow, Ify knew they were going to fuck. The next day, Somto was pissed at her and Ify couldn’t understand why, because Somto had started it. “If you expect me to be the one to resist you when you come to me, you are wrong. You either admit that you want this or you leave me alone.” At this point, Ify knew she was in love with Somto. Somto said nothing in response, but she kept coming by, and they kept having sex whenever they could.

Ify defined it as a relationship and referred to Somto as her girlfriend, but only in her head; not to anyone, not even Somto. In the three years they spent together, Somto dated three men. Each one was threatened by Ify’s presence in her life. Whenever she and her boyfriend fought, she would refuse to talk to Ify too, so Ify found herself rooting for Somto’s other relationships even after they had graduated and the men were no longer just campus flings. 

A yellow bus with black stripes drove slowly in front of Ify’s car, pulling her back from the whirl of her thoughts. A conductor hung by the door, calling for riders going to Ikeja underbridge. People stuffed themselves into the bus as it moved. The driver honked, adding to the cacophony of after-work traffic, and his conductor laughed mockingly at Somto for driving too close. “Se were ni e ni?,” he yelled as she almost hit his leg. Something about his recklessness amused her. It reminded Ify of herself. 

As a child, getting in trouble excited Ify. Not long after her mum passed, the help her dad had employed to take over domestic work caught her naked with the neighbour’s daughter. Her father scolded her and left it at that. It was the first time in weeks that he had said more than, “Good morning Ify, are you ready for school?” Before her mum passed, he took her to school and picked her up. They’d drive to Mr Biggs close to his office where she’d eat jollof rice as he asked her questions about her day. Instead of forcing her to do after-school lessons like most parents, he’d let her read her novels in the corner of his office as he worked on his sketches. Ify loved her dad because he let her be herself. He even bought her trousers and leather belts with heavy metal heads, which her mum hated. But when her mum died, he became someone who wore gloom as a blanket over his head. It overwhelmed him so much that Ify knew she had to do something to pull his attention to her. 

The second time she got in that kind of trouble, it was the neighbour that caught them at the back of the whitewashed duplex they all lived in. Her father spoke to her in a calm voice, devoid of the rage the neighbour had been shaking with. His eyes were misty red but at least he was looking at her. He told her what she did was a bad thing. She nodded, knowing they both sensed she’d do it again. 

Ify always had a thing for the thrill of life. Her classmates nicknamed her ‘Double D’ for Daredevil in secondary school. If there were no consequences for doing something, she wasn’t interested. As an adult, she channelled her desire to live on the edge of life into her relationship with Somto. They had sex in crazy places — public toilets, their friend’s balcony, at night on the beach, in Somto’s parents’ room. To Ify, their risky, unnamed thing was fine until Somto told her that the cute guy that her parents set her up with had proposed and she was going to say yes. It baffled Ify how committed Somto was to living a lie, even if it cost her real love. 

She understood that Somto was the first child and only daughter of her parents, and so had the duty of being the perfect Ada. She understood Somto’s dream of having a picturesque family — her, a man and two kids. She even accepted how hard Somto worked to make it happen. At first, when Somto met the man her parents wanted her to marry, Kachi, she claimed she didn’t like him. He was the son of one of Somto’s dad’s colleagues who had returned home to take over his father’s pharmaceutical company. But then Somto started cancelling their plans to spend time with him. In the first few months, Ify tried to rationalise it; Somto needed to save face for her parents. Somto needed to see what was out there to decide what she wanted. But it was hard so she stopped calling as often and Somto didn’t call either. They kept having secret sex, but their relationship changed so much that even Ify’s father asked if they were okay. 

At the annual Christmas dinner Somto’s parents threw that year, after everyone had eaten and left the dishes for Somto to wash, Ify joined her in the kitchen. As they washed up, Ify could see that Somto was avoiding being within two metres of her, so she too kept her distance. When Ify was about to go home, Somto’s mum asked, “Where are you running to, my dear? I haven’t seen you in a while. Spend the night, let’s gist.” Ify knew Mrs Obi only felt safe saying that because Somto was now in a serious relationship, but she was glad she did. In the pink room Somto had lived in since she was a teenager, Ify said, “I don’t want to ruin your thing with him. Believe me when I say I’m happy you’re happy.” Without turning around to face Ify, Somto said, “What if I’m not looking to be happy? What if I just want normal? Safe?” 

Ify turned the word ‘safe’ over in her mouth until she fell asleep. What did it mean to be safe, here in Nigeria as herself, a woman who leaned towards masculinity and loved women? Safety was never something she could relate to, even as a child. Safe where? When? With whom? When she woke up the next day, Somto’s long arms were wrapped around her. One thing led to another and they had sex. Later, when Somto flew into a panic after realising she had left the door open, Ify couldn’t find the words to pacify her. The thrill was what she lived for. What’s the point of living if there’s nothing to lose? 

A week before Somto got married, Ify threw her a private party — just the two of them in a hotel room, playing loud music, surrounded by about a hundred rose petals and different kinds of booze. Somto said it was the last time they’d ever have sex so they took molly, got really high on weed and fucked each other dizzy. When Somto started gasping for air, saying I love you, I love you as Ify’s fingers filled her pussy, Ify knew it wouldn’t be their last time. 

The gateman saw Ify’s car before she got to Somto’s house and ran to open the gate, as always. She waved at him, smiling, and drove into the compound. She often wondered if he had ever heard them fucking; the guest room where Ify stayed whenever she was around was quite close to his quarters. She got out of her car and took the box of chocolates with her. When Somto opened the door, she did not look at Ify. She simply locked the door behind her and sat on the couch beside her handbag. Ify joined her and watched as Somto pulled a pregnancy test kit from her handbag. Ify knew it was positive before she looked at it. Her tongue clung to the roof of her mouth. Ropes of ache wrapped themselves around her head. She noticed tears in Somto’s eyes, the skin under them darker than usual.  

“Do you not want to keep it?” 

“It’s not that.” 

As always when she was about to pull away emotionally, Somto didn’t look at Ify when she spoke. Ify studied the gold curls of her lover’s hair. She wanted to compliment the new colour but she knew Somto wouldn’t appreciate that right now. The air felt tight.  

“Then what is it?” She reached for Somto’s hand but Somto pulled away. 

“I love him, Ify. This thing we are doing hurts me.” 

Ify swallowed, trying to cool the heat in her belly. Even though she had heard many versions of this before, her heart pounded in her chest like she would go into cardiac arrest that minute. 

“I love you… so much. Always have, always will. But I have a family now and I have to focus on it. I can’t imagine having a baby and still having sex with you when my husband is not around.” 

But it wasn’t just when her husband was not around. Sometimes when Ify slept over in the guest room, Somto would join her and they would cuddle after making love. They kept the doors locked even though Kachi was a deep sleeper. 

Ify couldn’t say she hadn’t seen this coming. The resignation was alive like a flame in Somto’s eyes. “I understand,” she finally responded. Ify knew that while she was ready to push the edge for Somto, Somto would rather be safe. She knew that Somto would never be able to give her love that matched the wildness that brewed in her chest, a love that looked safety in the eye and said fuck you. 

“I understand,” Ify said again, grateful that Somto was letting her go because she knew that left to her, she would hold on forever.

“I know you do.” Somto finally turned to look at her. There were no words to say that hadn’t already been said. Somto reached for Ify and they fell into a hug. Ify’s tears were hot under her eyelids in a way that reminded her of when her mum died. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

The words were as deflated as they were heavy. They both knew that love alone could not 

keep them together. Not in this life. 

Breaking up with Somto felt like losing a limb.  Initially, she tried to drink it away. She’d go to a bar just beside her office but when she got there one day and the waiter said, “Ma’am, the usual?”, it terrified her so much that she started staying at home. Somto had been leaving her texts: “I miss you” “I wish this wasn’t happening” “I can’t believe I can’t talk to you about being pregnant”, but Ify ignored them. She knew that to truly move on, she needed to give Somto real space. In the second month after the breakup, Ify got tired of waking up to an empty house from recurring dreams of chasing Somto, so she took leave at work and went to her dad’s house. 

“Guess who I ran into in Shoprite?,” he randomly asked one evening, as they were in the kitchen prepping food for dinner.  

“Daddy, how will I know?” 

“Remember Ada? Mrs Onyebuchi’s child from the old house?” 

Of course she remembered Ada. The girl had been her first kiss. 

“Oh, wow! Is she still in Nigeria?”

“Apparently, she just moved back for work. I collected her number for you.” Ify stopped peeling the yam she wanted to cook for dinner. 

“Why? What will I tell her? Doubt she remembers me sef,” she shrugged and continued cutting the yam into tiny bits. Her father moved closer. 

“She does. She asked after you.”  Ify’s breath quickened. She wasn’t sure what he was getting at. Before she could think of what to say to break the silence, he continued, “Maybe she will help you get over Somto.” 

Ify froze. “What?” She dropped the knife on the counter. She could feel heat commanding a storm in her belly. 

“Let me tell you a story.” He said, sitting on a stool. “Before your mum and I moved back to Nigeria and had you, I was in love with a man named Hassan.” He paused for breath as he leaned on the counter beside Ify. She stiffened as her father came closer to her. Her knees felt weak and wanted to go outside for some fresh air but her father continued. 

“He was tall, like a dogoyaro tree, with full, curly hair. I used to tease him about it. I called him my best friend.” Ify caught a glint of joy in his eyes as he spoke. 

“Your mother understood our relationship in a way that even I didn’t or maybe I was just too afraid.” He paused to look at Ify. 

“She’d invite him over whenever I was feeling sad, knowing he’d cheer me up. When she was buying anything for me, she’d buy double so I could share it with Hassan.” He took a deep breath before he continued and Ify watched as the smile on his lips faded before he said,

“One night, we went out dancing and when we got back home, we were still drunk. One thing led to another and I tried to kiss him.” Ify couldn’t believe the words she heard her father say. She almost asked him to repeat himself but he continued, this time with his eyes looking straight into hers.

“It was the first time I tried to be physical and he didn’t take it well. He got really angry and almost hit me. Your mother had to come in between us because he threatened to break my head. She kicked him out of the house and I haven’t seen him since then.”

“Wow.” She didn’t know when the word escaped her mouth. 

“Now, I know how Hassan felt about me but trying to make it physical scared him.” Ify felt like she was meeting her father for the first time. The light from the kitchen window lit his scalp in a way that made his head look bigger. 

“It was your mother that taught me that love like that will never satisfy you. You will continue to thirst and hunger for more even while being fed because it’s not for you.” She continued to stare at him through moist eyes, not sure where to start. “I know you love Somto and right now it feels like the gloom will never subside, trust me when I tell you that it will get easier.” He pulled her into his warmth and she held onto him as thoughts chased one another in her head.

“It’s going to be okay. You will find love that edifies you, love that stays, love that is sure and I will be here to celebrate with you.”