Context

This story is a fictional exploration of what it can feel like to live with invisible emotional pain—when a person’s identity, sense of purpose, and inner peace quietly begin to unravel. It follows Tamuno, a man caught between the image he upholds and the emptiness he carries. Set in the noisy stillness of a Lagos evening storm, the story reflects the often-overlooked layers of mental health struggles, particularly among men who are expected to be strong, dependable, and emotionally unshakable.

I wrote this piece to humanize those silent moments: the ache of disconnection, the weight of expectations, and the quiet desperation that sometimes goes unnoticed within the familiar rhythm of everyday life. It is a story about identity, vulnerability, and what happens when someone can no longer carry the burden of appearing “fine.”

Content Warning:
This story includes themes of emotional distress and suicide.

Story

The cloud gathered as the thick, foggy essence that once looked like a calm blue sea changed its hue into a purplish-black colour that moved like flames from a burning tyre. Flashes of silver lines dashed through the cloud and lightning sounds roared in the sky. It was only 6:15 pm and it was already dark. The strong breeze raised dusts and lifted debris that whirled in a mad frenzy as trees swayed rhythmically. Aluminum ceilings made loud clanking sounds as electric cables dangled from erect poles. The street was empty in few seconds as adults torpedoed into their homes and children scampered in packs to small sheds as they prepared to collect rain with their tiny palms while dancing in the downpour. 

Tamuno looked out the window and he saw the chaotic movements on the street. He had never really like the rain; he thought they looked harmless but could hold people hostage. “If you are dangerous, do us all a favour and look dangerous”, he would always say. Today was different. He was looking forward to the sound of rain; he thought it would make him sleep peacefully. He found it funny that he had appreciated the littlest things and the tiniest gestures in the past few days. A young man and his wife had walked up to him at the mall and told him they enjoyed the interview he granted on the Financial Matters TV show. He hugged them for almost five minutes and said he loved them. The couple hurried away when he finally released them. The previous day, little Ese brought him a distorted painting of him and he struggled to fight back the tears. He kept the picture beside his pillow for days. His lovely wife, Tega, made fun of him and called him a wuss. If only she knew.

For over ten years, he had maintained a routine of praying between the hours of 6pm and 7pm on Fridays. He once walked in on Tega lying in their bed in red, sultry, see-through lingerie at 5: 57pm. He merely complimented her asked her to get something to wear while he prepared to pray. Tega was appalled, she raged on and on, “I am telling you God doesn’t mind, I am your wife, the Bible says your body is mine!” He left to pray in the guest room. He never missed a day, prayer was the constant while his location could be a variable. He would bend today. He knelt beside his huge bed and rested his elbows on the bed, he began to mutter but he stopped in few seconds. No, he couldn’t. He rose weakly utterly confused and unsettled. 

He heard short, weak, almost inaudible raps on the door. While he tried to compose himself, and get rid of the fuzziness that seemed to engulf him, the door gave way, almost hesitantly, after twitching and creaking. A smallish animated face peeked in with her eyes closed. The little head bobbed and the large curls on her head bounced. Snapping her eyes open to reveal large wide innocent eyes that blinked a little too often, she sighed and exhaled in an exaggerated manner.

“Thank goodness, you have not started yet! I am sorry to cut into your halleluyah hour.” She said “halleluyah” with a sarcastic tone. She has always been jealous of the annoyingly revered halleluyah hour. “If only he can be so dedicated and unflinching about things that concern me.” she’d sometimes mutter. She tiptoed around the bedroom.

“Since we watched the Milky way commercial, Ese has been screaming and whining about wanting ice-cream. He is making a fuss and I might lose my mind if she continues for one more minute. That girl doesn’t stop bothering everyone until she gets whatever she wants. Just like you.”. She laughed piercingly and raised her eyebrows as she waited for a reaction or counterreaction. 

“My bad. I am talking too much again. Let me say it before you do.” Making faces and mimicking his husky voice “Tega, you never know when to stop talking”

She rummaged her bag, grabbed her wallet and keys as she looked round briskly for anything she might be leaving behind. “I am sure halleluyah is sweeter than the assortments of ice-cream you are about to miss…you snooze, you lose.”

She has always been dramatic. One of the reasons he knew he could be happy with her. She has always been chirpy, nonchalant, playful- what you will call happy-go-lucky. She seldom questioned or suspected anything. Allowing himself to plunge into another episode of reminiscence, he remembered when he tried to tell her about his intention to date her. He sat on the red chair in the fancy restaurant he picked for their fourth date. He fiddled with his straw and kept whirling it in his glass of Pina Colada. He had requested for the alcoholic cocktail hoping that it will add some “zing” and help with his nervousness. He awkwardly shifted his legs restlessly under the table as he tapped his knee with his idle hand. 

Tega laughed aloud and blurted, “Mr Man! I don’t bite!” 

“You want to date me, is that a bad thing? You love me, I get it. I mean who in his right mind won’t love me” She chortled and sipped her glass of Jack Daniels. She had given him a lecture on how JD, as she would call it, is well distilled and refined.

“Sitting in front of me like you are about to give nice eulogy for Adolf Hitler a in a Jewish assembly. Why not try this: ‘Tega, you are the most beautiful and sweetest creature and all I want is to call you mine. If you say yes, I promise you a lifetime of happiness, fun, joy, cute catfights, and many more’ That would not hurt, you know.”

He smiled bashfully. He was so embarrassed he thought he would jump out of his skin as he said the exact words she had pronounced earlier.

“Awwhn, my shy teddy bear, I say yes.”  She leaned forward and stretched her hand across the table like a crouching tiger. Stroking his beards, she leaned in and kissed him. Their gaze lingered as she tilted her head to the left and rested her cheek on her palm. He could tell she was excited and he knew he would marry her. 

“Do you need anything before I leave with the kids?”, she asked intersecting his memories. 

“Eerm… it is about to rain heavily.” He regretted saying that immediately the words dropped, he wanted to be completely alone. “I trust you will be careful; let the kids wear something thick for warmth.” She mumbled something about his overprotectiveness as she turned to leave.

“Sweety, I am about to start so you can’t interrupt again”

She rolled her eyes contemptuously, “Whatever! The Bible instructs you to love your wife. Can my loving husband bribe me by tapping the ass that I keep firm for him?” She stuck out her lower body as she made funny faces. Everything she was doing was awfully painful for him. He tapped her butt weakly, held her against him as he circled his hands around her slim waist. He drank in the pleasure of being close to her soft and warm body.  He felt nostalgic.

“Ummm…. I am not ready for the full option. Ese will break this door any moment from now. Moreover, it is halleluyah hour”, she smirked. He didn’t like the fact that she tagged his quiet time, “halleluyah hour”. He was sure she did that out of derision but it doesn’t matter anymore. He felt alone when she withdrew from his embrace.

“Pray for us” She shouted as she closed the door behind her.  

He contemplated on locking the door but decided against it. He strolled to the window and waited there patiently until he saw the red taillights move farther away from him as Tega drove out. His heart was heavy and heat surged through every part of his body and he trembled at the same time. He could have sworn he felt goosepimples on his arms. He sat on the mattress and buried his head in hands as wailed uncontrollably like a child. After some minutes, he knew he had worn himself out so he slowly got up from the bed.

He walked towards his en-suite bathroom, each step heavier than the last. He felt empty, void of any emotion. This had to be the most painless experience he has had in ten years. Whenever his wife smiled at him, he felt pain. If his daughter told him anything nice, he would feel a pang of hurt in his chest. He remembered how his daughter once leapt on him and said she was proud of him. With a heartwarming smile, she asked, “What does it mean to speak with authority, don’t people just speak? What does authority have to do with speaking? Molu’s mum said you speak with authority? And his older son. No. He didn’t want to reminisce anymore. His life had been too hard. The end must be painless. 

He stepped into his bath, put on the tap, lay in the bathtub, and enjoyed the whooshing sound of the running tap. Mindlessly, he picked the knife he kept in a small space that had been there since a part of the bath tub broke. He sighed deeply and slit his wrist in a swift second, he had watched YouTube videos on how to do it. “Hmmn, not bad.” He said sotto voce. “Nothing like the pain I lived with”. He slid into a sitting position. No feeling. Dizzy. Blank. Darkness.