Chapter 5: Kitchen Sparks and Spirit Wahala

Femi dey cook for kitchen, shirtless!

See as spirit dey flex muscle dey fry dodo! I hide behind wall, dey peep, dey try reason if na so foxes dey behave for spirit world.

I dey avoid look am—if I look too much, wahala go enter!

Small temptation dey okay, but if e stop to dey make me money, na serious gbege!

I dey reason say, abeg, let money continue to flow—if not, na village people go laugh last.

I drink cold water make my body calm down.

I dey quote Psalm 23, just dey hope make I survive temptation.

I ask, “Mr. Femi, when next you go help me hammer?”

“One month from now.”

Na long thing!

I sigh, carry face go window. Na only God know why spirit dey like to form hard-to-get.

No wahala—I go wait!

But with this kind fine bobo for house, how I go survive…

To avoid wahala, I start to dey do overtime for office after work!

Who know say office go sweet like that—I sleep off!

Na so cleaner wake me, dey laugh, say madam, e never reach house?

And I dream better dream!

For dream, I lift Femi shirt, dey touch im abs—finally, I touch those eight-pack, smooth, strong, like suya wey just dey roast—hot, spicy, everybody wan taste.

E dey feel like festival for village—yam pound well, soup dey bubble!

I no wan stop, dey touch dey go!

Till e hold my hand, whisper, “You never tire?”

E voice soft, e breath dey tickle my ear. My leg dey shake.

Suddenly, I lose balance, wake up!

Na so my body fall from chair, I shock, hand still dey hang for air.

Femi really dey my side, dey hold my wrist.

So no be dream? I really touch am?

Na so fear catch me, but excitement follow join.

My head blank. I sharply pull my hand, stand up, but my leg don numb, I fall!

I land with gbim—my chin jam table, blood come out!

Femi rush hold me, eyes full of concern. E dey panic small, but still dey form control.

Frustration hold me, I look mirror, give Femi bad eye. “Wetin you dey do here?”

“If I no dey here, how I go know say Miss Amara dey eye my body?”

E talk am with smile wey e dey hide. I dey try form vex, but e dey sweet me small.

“Na dream I dream—dream dey always mean opposite!”

I dey form philosopher, but inside me, na butterfly dey dance.

I look my chin, vex. “Na your fault!”

E look my chin, talk small. “I fit help.”

E talk am with that im calm voice, as if say e dey discuss bank transaction. But my mind dey remember that im cold face wey lick my wound this morning flash my mind. My eyebrow shake!

I purse my lips.

I dey form like say I no want, but my body don betray me.

E laugh. “Wetin, you dey fear?”

I roll eye—fear ke, for this Lagos?

Fear ke—wetin I wan fear?

I pull am close, lift my chin, talk, “I dey fear say you no go fit!”

Rain dey threaten, thunder dey grumble for sky, but na my heart dey make real wahala. My body dey hot, spirit dey ginger. Na so fox spirit dey catch person for Lagos!