Chapter 5: When Spirit Talk

Ifeoma too happy, she no chop lunch, drag me and Morayo go room.

She dey jump for corridor, dey dance small dance. You go think say she win scholarship. Her wrapper dey almost fall.

She wan make we witness her first voice chat with her boyfriend.

Morayo arrange phone for bed, put pillow for back. Ifeoma brush her hair, adjust her top—everything for show.

As Ifeoma put phone for ear, generator hum dey vibrate wall, and one cockroach waka pass under bed. Call connect. From the other side, voice come: "Baby."

Na low voice, e sound far, but e clear. The kind voice wey no get laugh inside.

Ifeoma face red sharp sharp. She ask, "You... you don chop?"

She dey smile, but her hand dey shake. Her leg dey tap floor as she dey wait answer.

The other side answer: "Never..."

The reply slow, like say person dey drag generator rope. The sound weak, like person wey dey recover from malaria.

Morayo hide one side, dey smile like mama wey dey watch pikin, dey wink for Ifeoma. Morayo mouth dey open, she dey press record for her own phone. You go think say na Big Brother audition.

Ifeoma push her commot, focus on her Emeka.

She even lower her voice, dey use pet name. "Stinky baby, you go chop soon?"

Emeka voice no too bad, but e just... get as e be.

As I dey listen, I dey ask myself, "Na so lisp dey sound?"

How I go talk am?

The thing no be lisp like that. Person wey get lisp dey stumble for mouth, tongue no dey work well. But this one, as Emeka dey talk, e be like say e dey force every word come out, like say tongue heavy, no fit lift. Na only one or two words e fit talk at a time.

Each word sound like e dey squeeze air from mouth, pause, then talk again. You go think say the person dey underwater.

Na exactly as Halima describe am.

I just dey listen, my heart dey beat, cold sweat dey my body.

My palm dey wet, my back dey touch wall, I dey reason say I no go sleep alone tonight.

But Ifeoma no notice anything—she too happy for her first voice call.

She dey giggle, dey ask about his day. She dey throw hand for air, dey act like person wey win award.

Morayo bend head, dey listen, her eye dey shine—self pass Ifeoma own.

Morayo dey nod head, dey bite her finger, she dey blush for Ifeoma. You go think say she na the one wey get boyfriend.

After the call, Ifeoma dey smile: "My boyfriend get small lisp. No wonder he no wan do voice call before. Na joke—because of this, Halima dey talk say he don die! I hail her imagination."

She dey laugh, dey twist her hair, dey show us chat screen as if e be trophy.

Morayo talk: "Send the recording give her—make we see if she go still talk rubbish."

Morayo teeth dey show, she dey wait make Halima run away from her own words.

"No wahala."

Ifeoma quick send the recording for our four-person room group, tag Halima: "The 'dead person' don talk—if you get mind, listen am."

She add, "Abeg, make you rate my baby voice o!"

After she send am, the two of them just dey wait to see Halima reaction.

Morayo dey refresh phone every two-two minutes, dey laugh dey tap Ifeoma. I dey look both of them, dey hold my own breath.

After small time, Halima reply with only eight words: "Make una listen to am by una self."

Her message short, but the meaning long. E be like say she dey warn us. Her DP still that dark photo wey nobody sabi.

I click the recording, dey reason am.

For my mind, I dey pray make e just be ordinary voice, nothing extra.

Wetin I hear make three of us face white like chalk.

All of us freeze. Morayo even cover her mouth, Ifeoma hand shake. I feel cold pass cold room.

For the recording, na only Ifeoma voice dey normal. The reply voice... no be human at all.

The voice wey reply sound like spirit wey dey drag chain, like wind wey dey pass graveyard, like say na earth dey swallow sound. My ear dey pain, my heart dey beat like drum.

E sound like one low groan, like monster dey gargle for throat—deep, twisty sound, e dey tear ear.

Ifeoma hand shake, she drop phone for bed. Morayo run near window, dey look outside, dey whisper prayer. As for me, my legs just weak, I sit down for floor, dey reason whether to go call Mama for village.

No living person fit make that kind sound.

My heart dey pound, I dey sweat. For my mind, I dey remember all the warning wey Halima don give before. Maybe for this life, e good to dey fear small—because, truly, you no fit guess wetin dey the other side.

As night dey come, nobody wan off light. For Naija hostel, if spirit wahala start, e fit reach everybody. Me, I just dey pray say morning go quick break.