Chapter 6 - ADE| When Love Is A Silent Song

That evening, something ignited in Ade. It manifested itself as a warmth in Ade’s chest, a shortness of breath when Ekong leaned too close. He thought the feeling would pass, burn out like a match.

Welcome back, dear faithful, and thank you for being here again.

Sorry that this chapter took two weeks to get to you. School got in the way.

If you missed Chapter Five, you can catch up here.

Otherwise, dive in.

And as always, feel free to leave thoughts, comments, critiques, or questions.

I’m writing this in real time, and your presence means the world.

Let’s keep going.

Content Warning: This chapter contains depictions of bullying, which some readers may find triggering.

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The morning, for Ade, began just as normally as the previous days had been over the past weeks. The only change was the one-week-old message to Ekong that remained unanswered. He woke up around 5 AM, minutes before his alarm, set for 5:30 AM, rang. He went straight to the bathroom to pee, wash his face, and brush his teeth. In his bedroom, he put on the Spotify playlist of Morning Affirmations—a habit he was trying to nurture. He got the idea after reading Atomic Habits by James Clear earlier that year. He had promised himself he would work hard to develop habits he wanted to embody. One of those was starting his day with positivity, while the other was trying to live a healthy life. This meant being mindful of his diet, hitting the gym, or doing home workouts on days he couldn’t make it to the gym, taking supplements and drinking plenty of water. That sort of thing.

Ade dropped to the floor, stretched his legs back, and positioned his palms firmly beneath his shoulders. He aligned his spine into a straight line—core tight, toes grounded—and began his pushups. Up. Down. Up, down. His body moved in cadence with the words blasting from his bedroom Bluetooth speaker. The voice of the positivity coach was slow and deliberate, with comfortable pauses that allowed each affirmation to sink in.

‘Take a deep breath. This. Is. Your moment. Repeat after me: I am exactly where I need to be.’

Ade went down. ‘I am exactly where I need to be,’ he repeated through ragged breaths, sweat running down his forehead.

‘Today, I welcome growth, peace, and possibility.’

He thrust up. ‘Today, I welcome growth, peace, and possibility.’

‘I honour my effort, not just the outcome.’

Down.

‘I honour my effort, not just the outcome.’

‘I am stronger with every breath I take.’

Up.

‘I am stronger with every breath I take.’

Ade’s phone chimed as he finished his last workout of the morning with the lunges. He had stepped forward, lowered himself, and pushed back with trembling control. Typically, he ignored any interruption to his routine; it was another of his intentional habits. Reducing distractions caused by overindulgence in technology. It sounded like a thesis topic. (He felt proud when he came up with that one.) Yet something tugged at him, an invisible pull, like metal drawn helplessly to a magnet, toward the phone lying still on the bed.

He stood up, chest rising and falling, sweat tracing slow rivers down his temples, and picked up the phone. At first, he couldn’t believe his eyes, but Ade knew it was too real to be a dream, so he didn’t bother pinching himself. All he did was open the message.

Heyyy, Ade! Yes, it has been forever. You dey ok?

Ade stared at the message, wheeling around possible responses to the unexpected reply. He had spent days thinking of what he would say if Ekong replied to his message, but then, when it didn't happen the first few days, Ade gave up the idea of getting a reply. His possible scenarios went with it, too. But there it was, glaring back at him. Finally, a reply! What was he to say? Hey, yes, been forever indeed. I am alright, you? Pretend his message wasn’t read and ignored for a week?

Thought you’d never reply.

He went with his first instincts.

EKONG: I know. I am sorry. I didn’t know what to say. It has been years, Ade.

ADE: I understand. At least you have replied. Personally, I don’t know why I reached out. I wasn’t expecting a reply.

EKONG: Why?

ADE: I mean, you made it clear the last time we saw each other.

EKONG: I mean, why did you reach out?

ADE: Maybe let’s not dwell on that. How have you been?

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That was a week ago. Now, Ade can say he and Ekong are on a steady path — steady in the way strangers might tread unfamiliar ground. The sparks are gone. Their conversations hang heavy, draped in the weight of the past, like old friends who’ve been out of touch for too long and no longer know what to say.

Which, perhaps, is how it should be.

Still, Ade doesn’t know why he expected more. As if Ekong taking a full week to respond to his first message wasn’t already a quiet confirmation that nothing was the same. Ade doesn’t know why he thought they were still the same teenage boys who spent most of their days together, having endless conversations, laughing, playing around, latching onto each other. Like how close they became after that heroic day when Ekong saved him from Ozeba. The day Ekong took a beating for him.

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That afternoon, on the school field, Ozeba punched and slapped Ekong, leaving a bruise on his face that took about a month to heal. Both Ekong and Ade spent the rest of the school term concocting various lies about what happened. He hit his eye on a door. He tripped and hit the corner of a table. It was from a prank gone wrong. He got hit accidentally in a crowded place. They could have at least been more consistent with their story.

Then, Ade tried to make sense of it. Why would Ekong save him when they had only just become friends? Yes, they went home together and came to school together. Yes, they took lunch breaks together and spent plenty of time together. But why? Ade had questions, yet at every turn, he faced a roadblock. Was Ekong potentially self-destructive? Like one of those people who attach bombs to themselves, the detonator in one hand, ready to blow themselves to pieces? Or was he one of those people with a saviour complex who convinced themselves that it was their life’s purpose to help others?

Whatever it was, over time, Ade learned to let go of the questions. He learned to absorb the warmth and safety that Ekong provided him. Whenever Ekong was around, Ade felt more at ease. Even Ozeba left him alone. Initially, Ade continued hanging out with Ekong for protection, but a stronger friendship blossomed.

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Ade doesn’t know why he believed that reconnecting would feel the same as it did back then — like that spark in his chest he felt during the time he spent an entire month with Ekong’s family.

It was the school’s long holiday period–Ekong’s first holiday since he joined the school. They had spent the previous examination weeks studying hard. Ade wanted to secure his place as the top student in the class, while Ekong wanted to reintroduce himself properly to the class by ranking among the top five students. Those were his words. That meant long nights of studying. It meant spending less time together frolicking after school. It meant seeing each other less after school than they’d wanted to.

So when exams ended and a month-long break rolled in, the boys silently agreed to spend every second of it together. There was no formal conversation about it. It was just one of those things you don’t know how you know, but you just do. It became even more certain when Ekong suggested Ade move in with him for the holidays.

‘I haven’t done that before,’ Ade said, though clearly beguiled by the offer.

‘There is always a first time,’ Ekong said.

‘But your parents-’

‘They are even happier about the idea than I am. I sometimes feel they do this to compensate for the fact that they keep moving me around, so I have no friends.’

‘I will have to ask my parents then.’

Ade asked. Mama Sade was more than pleased. She was happy her son was finally spending more time with boys than girls. Maybe the bullying would stop. Papa Ade couldn’t be bothered. That Friday afternoon, after Ade packed a few clothes into a small backpack and climbed into Papa Idoreyin, Ekong’s father’s jeep, both boys knew they were about to have the holiday of a lifetime.

On Ade’s first evening at Ekong’s, Mama Imeh cooked Afang soup–a vegetable soup she prepared with palm oil, vegetables, and assorted meat—to eat with pounded yam. The boys ate to their fill, exchanging laughs across the table, before darting to their room seconds after the last swallow. Ekong had promised to teach Ade how to play games on the PS2.

‘The last time you came over,’ Ekong began as he slid the game disc in, ‘you said you’d never played before.’

Ade looked away, a little embarrassed.

‘Yes, you know I don’t own one of these PS things. Besides, who would teach me?’

‘No one taught me either. I figured it out.’ Ekong handed him the second controller. ‘But don’t worry, you have me now,’ he added.

Ade stared at him, unsure. ‘You’re serious?’

Ekong nodded. ‘Very. Sit down. We’ll start with Mortal Kombat. One of my all-time favourites.’

They sat in front of the TV. Ekong picked up the other controller. As the screen loaded, Ekong spoke like a seasoned coach.

‘Start with an easier fighter like Sub-Zero, Scorpion, or Liu Kang. Their moves are straightforward, and they’ve got decent combos.’

Ade leaned closer.

‘Every character has special moves, combos, and a fatality, your finishing move.’

Ekong demonstrated:

‘Basic combo. Punch, punch, kick. That’s Triangle, Triangle, Circle. Jump kick, Up plus Circle. Sweep kick, Back plus X. Simple stuff. We’ll build from there.’

Ade watched him, eyes wide with excitement and concentration. For the first time in a while, he felt a part of something... like someone was handing him a new world.

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Admittedly, their conversations these days don’t feel like those times anymore, but Ade cherishes them nonetheless. The texts have been constant. A few ‘hello, how are you?’ here and there on some mornings. A couple of ‘I just got back home from work, Eleanor and I are planning to have dinner outside today’ thrown around on some evenings. They aren’t talking every day and don’t sound like the best of friends, but they are something. They went from years of no contact to this. It is something.

Even now, they are about to have their first call since they reconciled.

Ade stares at the buzzing phone in front of him; the caller ID reads: Ekong. He steadies himself in his office chair and loosens his necktie, easing the knot pressing against his throat. The office is quiet except for the low hum of the air conditioner and the faint chatter coming from the other offices. After a few seconds of hesitation, he answers it.

‘Hello?’ Ade starts, his throat dry.

‘Yes, Ade, ha far?’

Ade holds his breath. He has forgotten how Ekong sounded and the effect his voice used to have on him. It is worse as Ekong’s voice has gotten deeper, the reverb amplified with age, soothing in a way that unsettles. It takes Ade a few seconds to get himself under control. Long enough for the silence to stretch.

‘He—he—hello,’ Ade says.

‘Sorry, must have been the network,’ he adds, too quickly, inwardly reprimanding himself for acting like a teenager with a schoolyard crush.

Ekong chuckles gently.

‘Still stammering when you get flustered. I see not everything's changed.’

Ade wants to vanish. Or rewind time and try again, but instead, he leans back in the chair and says,

‘Yeah, some things... still stick.’

There’s a pause which feels long and imperious.

‘Been a minute, totally forgot how you sounded,’ Ade breaks the silence.

‘Makes the two of us, man. I guess it has been long overdue. Thought it would be nice to catch up. And-’

‘Babe, are you coming along?’ Ade hears a faint voice from the other end. He figures that it is Eleanor.

‘Yes, love, you will need help anyway,’ Ekong says to Eleanor. Then…

‘Sorry, Ade, I gotta go. Duty calls. The missus needs me to tag along for grocery shopping,’

‘That is alright. We can always-’

The line goes flat, and suddenly, Ade feels a void roaming in his office, gaining momentum, getting louder, bigger, darker. He glances at the clock on the laptop in front of him. 6:15 PM. The time reads. It is way past his closing time, but this has become his habit. The mundanity and predictability of his life have led him to fill his days with work. From home to work. Works himself to the bone. Leaves work very late, so he only eats and goes to bed right after he gets home. Maybe it is time he changed that. He thinks.

Ade stands up, starts to pack his laptop and documents into his briefcase. Time to leave. He stops midway, as if suddenly remembering something and picks up his phone. He opens his whatsapp, searches for Nii Okai’s contact and texts him.

Can you come for the home service this weekend? Saturday perhaps? I am due for a shave.

He drops the phone on his desk, but his eyes fall on the Shambhala bracelet on his left wrist—the only living, breathing relic of what he and Ekong had. For the first time in a long time, he takes a more intimate look at it. The thing that has become a part of him all these years. The bracelet he has refused to take off his hand for reasons known only to him.

Ade’s thoughts trail to the day Ekong gave him the bracelet.

It was the third week of his first holiday stay with Ekong. It was one of those afternoons when you felt the sun was exerting some sort of vengeance on humanity for all their transgressions and atrocities. It was so hot that the boys had taken off their shirts as they played Mortal Kombat, their third game that afternoon. Ade had gotten better at playing.

‘Bring your hand,’ Ekong said, randomly, while Ade was about to hit the fatality.

‘What?’ Ade asked, confused.

‘Your hand-’

‘I heard you, but why?’

‘Just bring it and you will see.’

‘Is it because I was about to beat you for the first time? Is this some tactic?’

‘Your hand, please?’

Ade obeyed, sacrificing his left hand, unsure of what all that was about. Ekong brought out the bracelets. Two. Identical. Made distinct with black maramé cords, adjustable sliding knots and beads of smooth, glossy onyx alternating with sparkling cubic zirconia. They were enchanting. Ekong slid one of the bracelets on Ade’s hand and the other on his.

‘What is this for?’

‘A friendship bracelet. Don’t ever remove it.’

Ade smiled, his eyes locked on the shiny new thing around his wrist.

‘Getting sentimental on me, are you?’

‘What nonsense? I saw it in a movie and thought how cool it would be to give my friend some if ever we stayed at one place long enough for me to make friends. Now pick the pad. Gonna whoop your ass.’

Ade picked the gaming pad, but while he chose Liu Kang as a contender for Ekong’s Sub-Zero, he couldn't help but feel the warmth that girdled him, the feeling of intrigue that tugged at the hem of his heart. That little gesture was like mixing two chemicals that had no business colliding, but once they did, there was no stopping the combustion. That evening, something ignited in Ade. It manifested itself as a warmth in Ade’s chest, a shortness of breath when Ekong leaned too close. He thought the feeling would pass, burn out like a match. But it didn’t. Instead, it set the stage for the events that unfolded the rest of the holidays.

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Chapter 7 drops next week.

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