Chapter 1: Lagos Wahala No Be Beans

My adoptive papa na real villain, my adoptive mama sef get bad reputation as supporting character.

The thing wey surprise people pass be say, for this my own house, to survive, you go sharp pass street hawker for Ojuelegba. Even my slippers no dey last one week—wahala dey everywhere. Neighbours dey wonder how pikin like me dey waka head high for road, body dey pepper anyhow, no dey shake. If dem ever see me for compound, na with face like say I carry pepper for belle, and true-true, na correct wahala dem teach me for house. For my papa side, you no go learn soft hand; for my mama, na only sharp mouth and sense wey cut like blade. If dem dey house together, na real Nollywood film.

To make sure say nobody go bully me, dem teach me all the street sense and sharp moves wey dem sabi.

E no take me time before I sabi how to read person face for junction, how to waka pass market without anybody fit collect my bag, or even how to use broom dey chase dog commot from compound. Every lesson na survival. For their hand, I sabi dodge slap, chop with left hand for party make dem no see me dey vex, and even how to reply any adult wey wan show power without crossing line. One aunty try serve me jollof, I dodge her spoon like say na bullet. Na my own formula I dey use mix all the wahala.

I gather the correct ones, throway the rest, and carve my own wahala road reach university.

As I dey walk my path, e be like say spirit of stubbornness just dey my body. Some of the things wey dem teach me, I use, others I throway inside dustbin. But the important ones—like no gree, no fall hand, always get plan B—I carry dem reach university level. For that campus, my name begin spread like new gist for hostel.

Na so e be, until the main guy and babe for the story jam their lost family – come see me, hair wey get all the colours for rainbow, hold one yellow-haired boy for ground dey slap am left and right.

E shock everybody. The hall silent, only sound na my palm for him cheek. People dey snap video, others dey whisper. E remain small make security rush come. But na the way I dey handle the boy, like say I dey fry akara for Saturday morning, everybody come dey reason say this girl no dey play. Even my hair, e dey shine for sun, every colour for rainbow dey wave like flag.

“So, you wan be eunuch, or you go be my boyfriend?”

My voice loud, make sure say everybody hear. I hold the yellow-haired boy for ground, eye steady. For that moment, I no send who dey look. The wahala I carry for belle dey show for my talk. Some people for corner dey laugh, others dey pity the boy. But me, I dey enjoy the show.

The main babe nearly faint. “My sweet, soft, fine pikin—!”

Her voice crack, body dey shake like person wey dem pour cold water. She hold chest, dey look me like say na her own life I dey risk. People around dey watch her, some dey whisper, others dey record. Na that kind drama wey dey make story spread for hostel fast fast.