Lagos

Pop.
The fan whirrs slower, slower; the metal sounds flimsy as lifeblood drains from wires and momentum dies.
I open my eyes as little as possible pretending that I am still asleep and unaware that the power is gone. . .again.
The sun shines bright yellow through the lower panel of our east facing window.  Slowly its devastating heat will hit all the panels and sweat will seep out of our pores attempting transcendence.  Somehow this loss of moisture intensifies immobility as if water has been neutralizing stickiness.  All movement feels like walking against a strong current in a large hot tub placed in the middle of a forest fire.
It is still early, but the north window brings the hum of morning to my ears.  The go-slows and horns haven't begun and no one has come outside to start their generators to counter the power outage, but people are moving about preparing for the day on the street below the apartment. The clink of metal on metal, the timbre of laughter and language I can't quite hear but likely couldn't understand anyway. Trees rustle in the breeze, an unfamiliar species of bird sings a tune.
At the end of the bed, he is already awake. His skin reflects some of the bright yellow filtering in through the window to his right. Shining.  His phone is at his ear and Igbo pours from his lips like water rushing over rocky rapids. A few words jump from the stream of sound carried by the power of recognition. They sound warm, like memories of my terrible pronunciation and his laughter, that accompany them. What he has not taught me, I can guess. Something in the tone or timbre, the turning of his hand in a particular way paired with pillow conversations the night before gives me all the information I need. He doesn't notice that I'm awake yet.

Ogba, Lagos

I watch for a few minutes and then turn towards the north facing window. The sounds of this morning surround me and I let all of them penetrate deeply into my ears, trying to hear all simultaneously. There is a hot, heavy feeling in the middle of my abdomen that will likely be a problem for later. Now though, I embrace this symphony and smile a morning greeting to Lagos.