Chapter 2: Coup for Palace

Palace guards do coup, support Okafor family—people wey don dey noble for more than hundred years—to take the throne.

The night heavy like bad dream. Armed men move like shadow for palace corridor. Okafor family name dey heavy for mouth; even old women for village dey fear dem. Coup no be small thing, na like when goat enter yam farm: confusion everywhere.

After that, dem start dey kill royal family and anybody wey near dem.

Gunshot and scream full air. Even pikin wey no sabi fight dey run. My own fear pass, I dey hide under table, dey pray like church rat. E no matter say you be princess, blood no dey save person when wahala land.

I use all my money bribe guards, disguise myself, run comot for city.

My gold bangles and the small coins wey I hide, na him save me. I wear ordinary wrapper, tie old Ankara round my waist, rub charcoal for my face—palace princess turn market woman in one night. Na so I waka pass people wey for kill me without blink.

But for city gate, na Shenyu I jam.

I fit never forget that moment. Harmattan dey blow, everybody dey rush, but na him I jam. If I fit disappear, I for vanish that minute.

He wear white agbada, hand for back, still dey do like person wey no dey send anybody.

He look like king, even though king throne don scatter. Agbada clean, white like Sunday morning, and shoe shine. All this while my own wrapper dirty like mechanic shirt.

But now, him eyes cold like harmattan, no even smile.

No warmth at all. If e be before, e for call me "Nkem," voice soft. Now, na ice dey that eye, the kind wey make person fear.

I try form say I no know am, bend my head, wan waka pass, but he just catch me sharp-sharp.

I try shift small, but before I fit dodge, him long hand don reach me. I swallow spit, chest tight. My plan don spoil.

Him long, fine fingers nearly break my wrist.

Fingers cold, grip like police handcuff. Pain flash, but I no shout. Palace girls no dey cry anyhow for street.

He just look me, corner of him mouth raise small.

That smirk na the one wey dey come before big wahala. My mind fly.

"Princess Nkem, where you dey go?"

Voice sharp, e cut air like blade. For old times, e for tease me, now na true accusation.

My body dey shake, I lower my voice, beg am:

"Abeg, I take God beg you, help me. Free me, abeg."

I add small Yoruba, voice shaking: "Abeg, ejoor, no let them catch me." My knees weak, I wan kneel, but pride hold me small.

"Free you?"

He just raise him mouth for wicked smile.

That grin dey cold, like say snake dey smile. I sabi say wahala don land.

"Nkem, wetin you owe me, you never pay. How you wan waka go?"

The words choke me. Everybody for palace sabi say debt no dey finish except you pay. My own, na the one wey dey follow soul.

Before I know, he twist my hand go back, throw me inside one keke wey park for road.

My scream no pass my mouth, keke man just dey look front, as if say e no see anything. The keke man hiss under breath, adjust him cap, pretend say nothing dey happen—Lagos people sabi mind their business. Na so e be for city—everybody mind im own business.

The keke just dey go back to capital.

I dey watch city pass me like dream, mind dey run. My only hope na say maybe Shenyu heart go soft, maybe small pity dey remain.

If dem catch me, as person wey belong to old royal family, na army barracks or brothel dem go send me.

I fit see the barracks for my mind—metal bunk, wicked women, guards wey dey collect money to look away. Brothel even worse, no hope for dignity. I swear for myself under breath—if na so I go end, make thunder strike me first.

I shrink go one corner for keke, dey hold my tears, beg again, voice low:

"Shenyu, with your brain and family, you fit still get power for new government. But me, I no get anything again. I just wan live my life, hide for somewhere, make nobody know say I dey."

I hug my wrapper tight, voice small like wind. "Abeg, I no fit survive for new world. I just wan vanish." My voice don break.

"And your cousin Duru come back. Now two of una fit finally dey together."

I see am, the way e stiff. Duru name na secret knife. My own wahala fit no big reach that one.

As I mention 'Duru,' him eyes shake small, come give one kind sad smile.

The smile twist, pain hide under. I sabi say love wey no get hope dey make man behave anyhow.

"Duru no want me again. She talk say I don dirty, say na you cause am."

My chest heavy. As I hear that one, I feel true guilt, like say cold water pour me.

I shock, start to beg:

"I dey sorry, na my fault. I no suppose give you that medicine, I no suppose—"

I wan kneel for keke floor, but the place small. My hand dey shake, tears no gree come out.

Before I fit finish, him hand just grab my neck.

Cold, hard grip. My throat tight, I wan cough, but no voice. Na anger dey inside that hand.

He lean over me, press me for seat.

I fit smell him perfume—sandalwood and anger. The pressure for my chest no be small. My eyes dey red.

Him eyes deep and cold.

If to say look fit kill, I for don turn spirit. I beg with eyes, no mouth.

"Nkem, no think say you fit just waka go. Wetin you owe me, you no fit pay am finish for this life."

Na true. The kind debt wey cross both life and afterlife.

Before he even finish talk, he kiss me.

The kiss bite. Na pain, not passion. I taste blood, salt and bitterness join.

But the kiss full with plenty hatred.

My own tears finally fall. Palace girls no dey show weakness, but this one pass me.

Blood full my mouth sharp-sharp, I no fit hold my tears again. Dem just dey drop.

I wipe mouth, but blood just dey stain my wrapper. I cry, nose run, no care who dey look.

"No, abeg..."

I wan disappear, voice no even loud. All I fit talk na "no," but the world no hear me.

But no matter how I cry, beg, e no work.

Tears dey dry, voice crack, but Shenyu eyes no even move. The keke man just dey drive, face front, e no get business with royal wahala.

Keke dey move, like say e no go ever stop.

I dey count every bump, every street lamp. The night long, pain long pass.

Before I faint, na only Shenyu red eyes I remember, as he talk:

"Nkem, since you don make me dirty, make we dirty together reach the end."

Na curse, na promise, I no even know. Only his red eyes—fine like ripe agbalumo—dey my mind as darkness carry me.

Palace wahala no dey finish—na who dey alive dey see drama.