The café was warm and quiet, the kind of place where the staff don’t bother you unless you wave. I saw a hand wave at me. She was already there when I arrived. Back straight. Hands folded. No sunglasses. No scarf.

Just… looking at me like she’d been waiting for this moment for a long time. “Hello, Nma.” Her voice was low, deliberate. The kind of voice you can’t easily forget. I knew that face. I’d seen it in wedding photos. I’d seen it at family gatherings when my ex still called me baby. She was the older sister, the one who always stayed polite but distant. We’d never spoken more than, “Hi, nice to see you.”

“You’re surprised,” she said, a small smile playing on her lips. I nodded. “A little. I thought you were abroad.”

“I came in for the wedding,” she said simply. Then she leaned in, her perfume faint but sharp. “And I’ve been watching you… and him.” We placed our orders.

We spent the next few minutes exchanging pleasantries and asking about each other’s welfare. She apologized on her brother’s behalf profusely. She always knew what he was doing, but was too cowardly to do anything. She asked if I had met Chijioke before yesterday. I said No. I didn’t need to say anything else. She looked at me and seemed to understand that I was at a place where I just didn’t care.

Yes I had thrown caution to the wind by entertaining Chijioke and encouraging him, but I really didn’t stand to lose anything. “That lipstick in Chijioke’s room? The one that made you doubt him?” I stiffened. She caught it.

“Yes, I know. Because I know my brother. And I know his bride.” She tilted her head slightly. “She’s insecure. Jealous. A child in a white dress. That lipstick was her work. Her way of keeping you and him from becoming allies.” I stared at her. “Why are you telling me this?”

She took a slow sip of her tea, eyes never leaving mine. “Because I know my brother. He has a way of pulling people in, making them play his game without realizing they’re already losing. You, Nma… you’re not playing yet. But if you get close to Chijioke, you might.” I leaned back, crossing my arms.

“So I should stay away from both of them?” Her gaze softened, just slightly. “I’m saying… don’t trust too quickly. Not Chijioke. Not my brother’s bride. And certainly not my brother.” She glanced down at her tea for a moment, then back at me.

“Our family… we weren’t rich. Far from it. My father was a civil servant who retired with more debts than savings. My mother sold clothes at the roadside. We were just another struggling Nigerian family until I clawed my way out. I found a scholarship. Studied abroad. Built my life from scratch. No handouts. No shortcuts.”

Her mouth tightened.

“But the rest of them? The sight of money blinds them. A politician waves his hand, and they forget their own names. My brother… especially. He’s always been hungry for it. Desperate. And now he’s drowning in promises made to the wrong people.”

I stayed quiet. She reached into her bag and pulled out a slim brown envelope.

“Inside,” she said, sliding it toward me, “is proof of the people he’s tangled with. Photos. Documents. Things you won’t find on Instagram. The men at his wedding table? They aren’t friends. They aren’t family. They’re investors. And my brother is their project.”

I didn’t touch the envelope. “Why are you showing me this?” Her eyes didn’t waver.

“Because in a week, when the legal signing happens, it will be too late. The bride will be bound to him, and to them, in ways she won’t understand until she’s lost everything.”

I thought about the girl in the white dress. Pretty, naïve. Still looking at marriage like a happily-ever-after ending instead of a loaded gun.

She leaned closer, lowering her voice.

“I’m not saying she’s innocent. She plays her games. She planted that lipstick in Chijioke’s room to push you away from him. She thinks you’re a threat to her marriage. But she’s not dangerous, she’s childish. And childish doesn’t survive in the kind of world my brother’s in.”

Her hand brushed the envelope toward me again.

“I want to stop this marriage from becoming legal. And I can’t do it alone.”

My brows lifted.

“And what exactly are you proposing?”

She smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“You’ve seen him for who he is. You’ve been burned. You have nothing left to lose. But you do have something I don’t, access. He still cares about what you think. If you’re seen close to Chijioke again, it will rattle him. He’ll get sloppy. And when he gets sloppy… I can finish this.”

I studied her face.

The calm. The control. The certainty.

She was giving me the keys to the car, but we both knew it wasn’t my name on the registration.

“So you want me to play bait?” I asked.

“No,” she said softly. “I want you to play yourself. The woman he underestimated. The one who can still make him panic.”

She sat back, watching me.

“Think about it. But don’t think too long. The clock’s already running.”

Nma’s Diaries….Life…Lessons…And everything inbetween