Chapter 1: When Rain Brings Wahala

The night rain dey fall like say Benue River vex. As Halima drag one man, full of wounds, inside my house, the compound gate creak, iron dey shout for hinge. Rain dey beat zinc, and for corner, I smell that fresh soaked earth, plus the hot akara wey Mama Titi dey fry for her kiosk next door—Naija night, wahala dey land.

Halima burst in, eyes red from all the worry and rain, clutching this stranger like na gold she carry. The man shirt soak with blood, legs full of cuts and bruises. That sharp metallic scent of blood choke the air, mix with rain and akara. This kain visitor no be wetin respectable people dey expect for our small compound—especially for night wey rain dey fall anyhow.

I wan ask whatin dey happen, na so comments begin float for my eye:

[The main babe don land again! She go finally start sweet love with the main guy. 😂]

[If to say the supporting babe no insist to carry the main guy go hospital that time, how the main guy for take mistake him helper and miss the main babe for life?]

[Our main guy fit be bastard pikin of the richest man, but na only him be the son. In three days, dem go recognize am and carry am go house to inherit everything. As e suppose be—main guy luck no dey finish.]

[For the last life, the main guy scatter the supporting babe’s family because of the main babe. E too sweet, abeg. Hope say this time, nothing go scatter them.]

I blink hard, my heart dey pound like generator. These comments no be voice, no be whisper, na like WhatsApp group when everybody dey rush talk on top each other, but e dey float for my eye. Chai! If no be say I still get small sense, I for think say craze dey enter me. For inside my own parlour, na so people dey follow my life dey do play-by-play. Na wa!

I look Halima, suspicion full her face, then I look the man wey just dey like say he wan die.

Halima brow knot as if she dey fear say I go talk wetin go spoil. Her hand dey shake small as she press the man’s wound, eyes dey scan me like say na me be enemy.

I just laugh.

But the laugh no get joy inside. Na that kind dry, wicked laugh wey old women for village dey use when pikin use her money buy biscuit come dey form boss. The main babe wey na only my money dey help am go school, and the main guy wey soon lose him leg for amputation.

Inside my chest, cold water just dey pour for my heart. If na this kain 'future' dey wait them, make dem continue. I shake my head, hiss under my breath, the laugh choke for my throat.

Hmm, dem really suppose dey together.