The news spread faster than Harmattan dust on a windy morning: Damini had bought a house.
For weeks, the conversations around Chiburuoma's compound revolved around the wedding. Now, just when things seemed to be settling, this announcement came like another stone tossed into calm water. Everyone was talking about it.
"House?" Jennifer's voice had risen when Glory first told her. "As in, not rent, but their own house?"
"Yes," Glory replied, folding a blouse into Chiburuoma's travel box. "Their own. Damini signed the papers last week. Somewhere on the outskirts, but still a good area. They're moving in before month end."
Jennifer whistled. "E no easy. This Damini really dey try."
Grace, stretched out lazily on the couch, muttered, "Na real husband material. See as e dey upgrade every time. Wedding don end, na house next. If na some men, they go still dey wait make wife dey suffer with landlord wahala."
Glory laughed softly but said nothing. Her eyes drifted to Chiburuoma, who sat nearby with a measuring tape draped around her neck, sorting through piles of fabric. There was pride in her smile, but also a trace of overwhelm.
"Ehn, it's not even about the house," Chiburuoma finally said. "It's the packing. The arranging. The moving. God, it feels like another wedding."
"Don't worry," Glory said quickly. "I'll be here to help you. As usual."
"Me too," Jennifer chimed in.
"And me," Grace added, stretching before sitting up. "You won't carry this load alone."
The words warmed the room, but deep down Glory felt a twinge. Chiburuoma moving out meant one thing: her closest companion, her neighbor, her everyday gist partner, would no longer be just a few steps away. The reality made her chest heavy.
---
A few streets away, the boys had gotten wind of the news too.
"So Treasure don buy house," Emperor said, adjusting his cap. "Sharp guy. Na forex money dey talk."
Tamuno whistled. "Serious move. That's long-term vision right there."
Abraham, quiet as usual, leaned back in his chair. "He's building fast. It's good."
Chika, who was half-listening, chuckled. "So when are we coming to eat housewarming rice?"
Everybody laughed, the tension dissolving. But Abraham's mind wasn't fully in the banter. For some reason, the thought of Glory spending more and more time at Chiburuoma's place these days lingered. Every time she said she was going there, something in him tightened—though he wouldn't admit it.
---
The following weekend, Glory was at Chiburuoma's again, folding utensils into cartons, when the gate squeaked open. She looked out—and there was Abraham.
He wasn't carrying much, just a bag of masking tape and some wrappers. His presence filled the small room, and for a moment, Glory forgot what she was doing.
"Treasure asked me to drop these," Abraham said casually, setting the bag down.
"Perfect timing," Chiburuoma grinned, her hands busy with clothes. "We're drowning here."
Glory forced a smile, bending quickly over the carton in front of her. The room suddenly felt warmer.
And so it became a rhythm: Glory would stop by Chiburuoma's house, sometimes with Jennifer or Grace, sometimes alone. Abraham would show up occasionally, offering small help here and there. Their interactions were brief, but enough to spark unspoken glances.
Meanwhile, Emperor, who had no patience for cartons and packing tape, would tease whenever Abraham mentioned going over.
"Ah! No wonder you suddenly care about arranging pots and pans. I sabi wetin dey motivate you."
Abraham would just shake his head and mutter, "Leave matter for Mattias."
But the truth was, with each visit, each shared laugh over misplaced items, each silent moment when Glory's hand brushed his while folding clothes, the tension between them grew thicker—quiet, unacknowledged, but very much alive.
---
By the end of the week, Chiburuoma looked less stressed. The cartons were sealed, the furniture tagged, the fabrics folded neatly.
"We're almost ready," she sighed in relief, looking around her half-empty room.
Glory smiled, but her heart tightened again. "I'll miss this place."
Chiburuoma's eyes softened. "It's not the place you'll miss. It's the memories. And don't worry—we'll make new ones."
But as Glory glanced at Abraham—who was taping a box silently in the corner—she realized that maybe, just maybe, new memories were already being made.