Chapter 2: Needle for Needle
Mr. Sani just freeze, shock hold am, him hand dey struggle for him face. I rush join Musa, we tie his hands for back, drag am go edge of the rooftop.
For that moment, fear catch am. Na so big man dey be—once small danger enter, all the gra gra disappear. Me and Musa join hand, drag am like goat wey dey go market. As we reach edge, the city noise fade, only wind dey blow.
He no fit fight pass. All the muscle for office no help am here. His shoe even commot as he dey kick, the rooftop tiles dey shift under his struggle. I no send am—na this kain pain I dey wish am since.
The kind scream wey come out from his mouth na only person wey don chop beating for area go understand. He freeze, try hold tears, but the thing pain am reach bone.
We arrange am well, make sure say nothing fit free him. Lagos wind dey slap his face, and the fear for his eye dey grow like fire wey catch petrol.
As I see the device, I remember the kind torture stories wey dem dey talk for local movies, but this one pass. Musa sabi how to fix things sharp. Needle dey shine under sun, and even me sef fear catch me small.
"Oga, this mic dey work with your voice. The more you shout, the more the needle go rise."
The way Musa talk am, na cold warning. He no dey shout, but the message loud. For Mr. Sani, I dey sure say him life just dey flash for him eye.
"If you no wan make the needle pass your chin, better hold yourself."
This kain device, only Musa fit reason am. Na sharp warning. For Lagos, you go hear say people dey use juju, but this one na technology and street sense mix together. For this life, na who dey loud dey collect beating.
If you see Musa for street, you go think say him dey gentle. But for that moment, him face cold pass rain water. I dey respect him courage.
He dey try form strong man. But I dey see fear for his eye. He never see people wey serious before.
I gree say pain na universal language. As needle dey climb, Mr. Sani struggle turn to plead. Blood drop small for his shirt. The scream he hold back almost break him neck. For my mind, I no pity am. Na small compared to wetin my wife face.
The red dey drip for ground, join with the dust wey wind dey blow. Na that kind sight wey fit haunt person for dream, but I no shift eye.
Him pride dey break. No more big man pose. Only fear dey remain.
When I stop to clap, the needle drop back. I use the chance search Mr. Sani phone.
I search am fast. My hand dey steady now. Anything I see go be evidence. For Lagos, phone dey tell story pass mouth.
The sound loud for my ear. As air enter his mouth, he gasp like fish wey dey struggle for river bank. I dey watch am, my mind dey ready.
The tone for his voice don change. Before na boss, now na beggar. Na so life dey humble person for this city.
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