The campus was restless.
Strike rumors, Again!.
Someone said ASUU was meeting. Someone else said the government wasn't paying. Another person said it was all lies, just noise to distract us from real issues.
Nobody knew what was real.
But everyone was tired.
I saw it in faces. In the way people walked slower. Talked less. Stopped caring about small things like assignments and attendance.
Even the lecturers looked exhausted.
Dr. Badejo didn't show up for two consecutive classes. When he finally came, he didn't apologize. Just picked up where he left off like time didn't matter.
Maybe it didn't.
Dayo called me on a Tuesday afternoon.
"Guy, the gig is back on." he said
"When?" I asked
"This weekend. Friday to Sunday. Full three days."
I asked "How much?"
"Thirty, split."
Fifteen thousand!. Not enough for rent but it's enough to survive a bit longer.
"I'm in," I said.
"Bet. I'll send you the details." He hung up
I told Kunle. He nodded. Didn't say much. He'd been quiet lately. Something about his family. He didn't share and I didn't push.
That's how it worked between us. We held space for each other without needing explanations.
I texted Zainab.
"Busy this weekend, gig."
She replied hours later.
"Get your money."
Short, but I smiled anyway.
Friday came fast.
The gig was at some influencer's house off-campus. Big place, gate, generator. The kind of setup that reminded you money existed, just not for you.
Dayo and I spent the first day setting up shots. The guy wanted content for his page - lifestyle stuff, motivational clips, some comedy skits. He talked a lot about branding. About being authentic.
Everything he said sounded rehearsed.
By evening, we were exhausted.
Dayo crashed on the couch. I sat outside, editing rough cuts on my laptop.
My phone buzzed.
Zainab: How's it going?
Me: Long.
Zainab: You eaten?
I hadn't, we'd been too busy.
Me: Not yet.
Zainab: Make sure you do. Don't kill yourself for money that's not even yours yet.
I laughed.
Me: Yes, mom.
Zainab: I'm serious.
Me: I know.
She went offline.
I ordered food from a nearby spot. Jollof and chicken. Ate alone under the security light.
The neighborhood was quiet. Different from my side of town. Here, you could hear crickets. Where I lived, you heard generators and arguments.
I thought about what Zainab said. About killing myself for money that wasn't mine.
She was right, but what choice did I have?
Saturday was worse.
The guy kept changing his mind. Wanted different angles. Different lighting. Different everything.
Dayo was pissed but hid it. I did held it as well.
By midnight, we were done.
He paid us, in cash. Counted it twice to make sure it was correct.
'Fifteen thousand each.'
Dayo was happy. Talking about what he'd do with his share.
I just felt tired.
We got back to campus late Sunday morning. I went straight to the lodge, slept till evening.
When I woke up, Kunle was gone. He left a note on the table tho.
'Went home, gat some family issues to deal with, I'll be back on Tuesday.'
I sat there alone.
Ate the remaining rice from Friday, and just lay on the bed, watching the ceiling fan spin.
My phone had messages.
One from my mother.
One from the landlord.
One from Zainab.
I opened Zainab's first.
'You good?'
Me: Yeah. Just tired.
Zainab: Come through tomorrow. If you're free.
Me: Where?
Zainab: My place. I'll cook.
I stared at the message.
She'd never invited me over.
Me: You sure?
Zainab: Yeah.
Me: Okay.
I didn't open the other messages.