Chapter 3: The Real Wahala

I never really live well before.

All my life na like struggle for bus stop, always push and squeeze, but never get space to rest. Na now I dey see say, peace of mind better pass fine clothes.

This na my second time wey I dey plan things for Musa.

I come from apocalypse. My task na to make the young general wey suppose die early live pass twenty-seven. As long as he fit reach his twenty-seventh birthday, I fit return to the real world and chop food till I tire. Hunger wan finish me that time, so I grab the task without thinking twice.

That hunger, e dey bite bone. If you never sleep hungry for three days, you no go understand. That first time I hear say I fit get food, my mind jump like child wey see gala for traffic.

The system tell me say, from age twenty-three, every year Musa go get one deadly wahala. So I use one of my eyes trade for the heart curse. Even though I blind for one eye, as long as I recite the curse, na only me he go dey see, anything I talk, na so e go do. As long as I fit keep am from danger on top each wahala day, task go complete.

The blindness na big thing—sometimes when I waka, I go jam wall, but I no complain. For my mind, if Musa live, me I go live. I dey use street sense, but the curse dey help too. E hard, but Naija spirit na strong thing.

So, for four years wey we dey together, I use the heart curse five times. He call me witch, say I dey control am. But every time I use the curse, na just to keep am alive.

Na so e dey be—people fit call you bad, but na only you know your reason. Sometimes he go vex, shout say I dey mess with his head, but my heart pure for am. I go just dey look am, dey count my silent tears.

Wetin I no know be say the heart curse fit fail.

This life, nothing sure. I dey plan, dey arrange, but one small thing fit spoil show. The curse wey I trust, na e fail me. E pain me well, but nothing I fit do.

That day, he rush reach the city gate base, no even think am, just because the person hanging on the wall na him first love, Halima. To save her, he waka enter the city alone, suffer torture, and die.

He no think am at all. One call from Halima, all sense disappear. Na so I learn say, for heart matter, nobody dey hear advice. As e waka go, I dey shout for spirit, but my voice no reach am.

My task fail, and both of us come reborn to the day we first meet. System talk say, task go restart—skills no go work, but wetin I trade no go come back. So this time, I use my sense of smell trade for the heart curse again.

Na real sacrifice—no more jollof aroma, no more suya scent for night. I miss all those things, but person must do wetin e fit do to survive. If to say I get another body part, I for don trade am join.

Everything wey happen after, na almost the same. The only difference be say, this time, na me dem catch.

Life be like NEPA—sometimes light go, sometimes e go come. I plan, plan, plan, but destiny get another idea. My own turn reach, and na me dem hang.

I finally understand: Musa wahala no just be accident. His real wahala na always Halima.

Na there I see truth. Halima na his cross, his blessing and his curse. No matter wetin I do, e go always choose her first. My spirit rest—at least now I sabi wetin dey.