Chapter 1: The Poisoned Zobo and Betrayal

My body dey burn, sweat dey pour for my face like say I chop raw pepper. For my mind, wahala don land, but I still dey try form big girl, dey look for my childhood padi, the young chief. Confusion just dey scatter my head, panic dey crawl all over my skin, but I gree no let anybody see say I dey shake.

Sweat dey my forehead like person wey just run Lagos marathon, but I no gree make anybody notice. The way my skin dey tingle ehn, body no just get peace. For inside that hot hall, everybody dey groove, but my mind dey waka, dey reason wetin fit happen if I no find help sharp sharp. My heart dey beat like say drummer dey inside my chest, and I dey pray make I no collapse.

Na so, WhatsApp status comments just begin flash for my front.

[This my small sis no get sense at all 😂. Tonight go sweet you, but by morning, na wahala go land. That your crazy male lead go say na you force am marry, blame you say you chase heroine comot, and for wedding night, e fit send area boy come dey do the do on his behalf... 💔]

[Supporting babe, abeg no dull o! Go meet your fine, cold cousin wey dey live next compound. For him secret room, na your portrait full everywhere, every pose you fit think. 😏]

[Some people deserve to lose small sis. Daytime dem dey form hard guy, but for night, when the thing hook dem, na your name dem dey cry dey shout. 😂]

All those WhatsApp comments just dey like background noise for my head, like the way generator dey hum for street when NEPA take light. E dey disturb, but e dey real. I wan block my ear, but the comments just dey ring for my head, loud like market women for Mile 12.

As my body dey shake, I go knock my cousin room—the one wey always gentle like cool breeze and moonlight, noble and dey do like say him no dey do woman. My head dey spin, like say NEPA just off and on light for my brain. My leg dey weak, my heart dey race. I remember one family Christmas—Lanre just sit for corner, dey read him big law book, no smile, no gist, even small pikin fear greet am.

My hand dey tremble small as I dey reach the corridor. For our compound, everybody sabi say this cousin no dey ever join any family gist—na only him and him books. People dey call am "Council Secretary" as if na local government chairman, but for real, na person wey just dey on him own, dey do big man things with small smile. Floorboard creak under my leg, somewhere for compound, night cricket dey sing.