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Framed Twice: The River Girl’s Revenge / Chapter 2: Second Chance, Same Wahala
Framed Twice: The River Girl’s Revenge

Framed Twice: The River Girl’s Revenge

Author: Tyler Smith


Chapter 2: Second Chance, Same Wahala

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the very day the girl fell into the river and dey shout for help.

I blink, confuse. My hand, my leg, everything dey intact. I just dey mutter, "God abeg, make this no be dream." Na the same yam festival music I dey hear for background. Sun never set. Time rewind?

Children dey run with balloons, old women dey fry akara by the roadside, ogene dey ring for background. This time, I just turn back and waka, shout to the aunties wey dey dance for the square:

As I see the dancers, I gather myself, try arrange my face. Wetin person never see for this life? "Abeg, make una play better song!" I shout, try hide my wahala with cruise.

"Aunties, abeg turn up the speakers! Make we ginger!"

My voice mix with their laughter, as I try use the moment hold myself. Make devil no use me do mumu again.

"Help! Help... gurgle gurgle..."

The river dey far, but the cry reach my ear like distant thunder. My whole body tense up, I just stand, dey reason whether na spirit dey call or na real person. I remember wetin happen last time, my leg dey drag, my mind dey tell me, "No be every wahala you suppose answer."

One faint cry for help dey come from the riverbank across the park.

My neck long as I turn look. For this town, when person shout for river, everybody dey alert. I remember how the last time begin.

My eyes shrink sharp-sharp. I turn my head, cold just catch me from leg reach head.

No be ordinary cold. Na the type wey touch your bone. Even the sun no fit remove am. My hand begin tremble, mind dey waka.

Na New Yam Festival—the weather don warm small, but I still dey shiver.

Everywhere dey bubble, yam aroma for air, children dey run. But for my body, na fear dey run marathon. My shirt soak for back, sweat and cold dey fight.

Same environment, same scene, the square dance music still dey echo for background.

The music na local talking drum, flute join. The sweet sound dey try cover the wahala for my chest. I dey see the aunties, wrapper tie well, headtie like crown.

Wetin dey happen? E be like say history dey repeat itself?

My mind dey play trick. E be like film, but this one real pass anything wey dem show for NTA.

"Help, help me..."

I hear the shout again, and memory from before just choke me. I fit see myself, soaked and freezing, the same wahala dey drag my soul.

The person for inside water still dey struggle, still dey shout for help, but my mind don already go back to last time.

The voice carry fear, but my body just dey stone. I dey fight make I no rush go again, because wetin I see last time fit kill person heart. For this life, not be every call for help you suppose answer, especially if devil dey use person face.

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