Chapter 4: Halima's Confession and the Pit

For interrogation room, Musa cross leg, dey smile one wicked smile.

E dey relaxed, eyes dey shine like snake. For am, police no reach am. Room cold, Musa dey sweat but e dey smile.

E just dey relaxed, nothing dey shake am.

E cross leg, tap finger for table. E dey play mind game—no answer question, just dey form James Bond.

“Officer, wetin happen? You no see your missing people, you wan put am for my head? I just pick ID cards.”

E dey yarn as if e no know anything. Voice calm, face dey innocent.

E sure say police no get evidence. E just dey play deaf and dumb.

For Musa mind, Naija police na small pikin. If no be evidence, you no fit jail am.

As case no move, police try the others.

Dem try break Bala, but Bala mouth lock. Na Halima be weak link—dem focus on am.

Young officer Auwalu go meet Halima.

Auwalu na young inspector from Kano, sharp, dey polite, but him heart dey soft for woman matter.

First time wey e see am, with all him experience, Auwalu know say this woman different from the other two.

He notice say she dey look ground, her hand dey pick skirt edge. Her body language dey show say e get wetin dey bite her for inside.

Even as she try form strong, she dey shake—her face dey sweat, brow dey tight, like person wey dey carry big secret.

Auwalu notice am, voice low, try calm her. "Sister, no fear. Na only truth we want."

If she talk, case fit burst open.

Na so Auwalu dey reason—if this one open mouth, wahala fit land.

E guess right.

Even his oga for station sabi say, if woman begin talk, case fit change.

Before questioning, Halima ask Auwalu buy sanitary pad for am.

Auwalu first pause, then gree go chemist. For Naija police, this one na big thing—he show say e get respect.

Even though e no be him work, Auwalu gree—e show her small kindness.

That small act fit be nothing to am, but for Halima, na big relief. E remind her of her own brother wey always care for am.

That small act touch Halima heart.

She shift for chair, eyes soft. For first time since arrest, she feel say somebody fit listen to her as human being.

She wan talk but she dey fear.

Her mouth dey shake, but mind dey heavy. For Naija, woman wey see real wahala no dey talk anyhow.

Auwalu know say na him chance be this.

He lean forward, smile small, voice dey soft. Na real human touch—no shouting, no threat.

True true, after she talk about the Ibadan robbery, Halima drop the heavy secret wey dey disturb her since.

Her mouth first dry, then e pour like tap. The things wey dey worry her heart, e start to leak out bit by bit.

“Abeg, save me. I crawl commot from dead body pile. Dem dey dig liver and intestine, dey chop human flesh.”

Her voice break, tears dey fall. Room cold, but Halima dey sweat from fear.

“Ehn?” Auwalu shock.

He nearly drop pen. For his mind, na only for Nollywood people dey hear this kind thing.

“Abeg, make sure say wetin you talk na true. Start from beginning, tell us everything.”

He adjust seat, open file, steady hand. For police work, na this kind case dey mark career.

Halima arrange herself, look Auwalu badge, steady her mind, begin talk: “I get another big case—pass this one. If I talk, na death be that, but una go gain big. We kill pass twenty people for North, but I wan see your oga.”

Her voice get weight, she no blink. She dey beg but she dey bold. Na real confession dey come.

Lie?

For Naija, this kind story dey hard to believe. But Auwalu eye don big, e dey write everything. Sometimes truth dey pass lie.

Na wetin Auwalu first think.

He dey ask himself: "This woman dey craze? Abi na jazz Musa use hold her?"

That year, even two murder for Ibadan na big case, but this woman talk say dem kill pass twenty people and nobody catch dem.

Na only God fit know truth for this matter. Even DPO dey look case file with side eye.

She dey craze?

Auwalu rub face, sigh. But something for him spirit tell am make e listen well.

But what if na true?

He no fit ignore am. For Nigeria, if you miss one big clue, dem fit use am judge you for panel.

Auwalu mind dey run. E decide to report to oga—case big pass am.

He carry file, waka go DPO office, explain everything. DPO first laugh, but later eye dey wide.

Deputy Director Femi hear am, doubt but still gree see Halima next day, claim say na Director Femi.

Na old strategy—make person talk, even if oga no really dey. For police, style plenty.

Halima no argue. Once she see oga, she drop everything:

She kneel small, hand for chest, eye red. Once e settle, e no hide mouth.

“I don carry this thing for mind for long, I wan confess. But I get two conditions—if una gree, I go talk everything:

One, I wan see my pikin; two, when una wan kill me, abeg no tie me.”

Her lips dey quiver, but she look them steady. Na only one thing dey for her mind—her pikin wey dey Kafanchan with her mama. As she dey talk, her mind flash go her pikin—small boy wey dey Kafanchan, wey still dey suck finger.

As Halima talk am, she ready to die.

For her mind, judgement don land. Na only truth dey her mouth. Whatever happen, make dem just pity her last wish.

She know say her crime bad, confession no go save her. Na only her pikin dey her mind.

Na so Nigerian woman dey; anything wey happen, pikin first for heart. Halima ready for anything, even rope, as long as she fit see her blood.

For that small room, Halima begin tell her strange and sad story:

She sigh, close eye, begin talk as if she dey pray. Room quiet, even police no write again.

One night last November, after fight with her husband, Halima waka commot house.

Rain dey pour that night, her wrapper wet, slippers cut. She vex so tey, no look back. Town dey dark, only torch dey shine for hand.

As she dey vex for Zaria train station, she jam devil—Musa Danjuma.

E dey lean for rail, face for shadow. E greet her, voice low: "Sister, where you dey go? This place no safe o."

First look, Halima think say the guy fine, gentle.

E dey smile, no show teeth. E dress clean, e no resemble agbero. That night, gentle voice na wetin her heart need.

Him face deep, tall, slim, skin fair—everything just dey attractive.

She never see this kind blend—nose sharp, skin like new yam, voice sweet for ear. Her mind shift from her wahala small.

Musa Danjuma yarn her say e get sugar factory for Eziokwu, dey hire workers. E even show her business paper.

The paper old, but letterhead dey. Musa talk as if e sure. Halima just dey nod head, brain dey calculate how e go escape Zaria.

Halima, wey be nursery school teacher wey don tire for her job, wan change.

Her salary small, pikin dey sick, house rent dey pile. So when Musa show am hope, she jump am.

Musa Danjuma sweet mouth carry Halima go.

E buy am small bread, coke. Tell am story wey dey sweet. Before she know, dem enter bus.

That sugar factory na fake—na just rough house, no business dey there.

As dem reach, compound bushy, signboard bent. Generator no dey sound. Halima eye begin clear, but hope still dey.

Na Musa Danjuma wife, Ifeoma, open door.

Ifeoma carry scarf, face hard. No smile, just look Halima from up to down, no talk. For Naija, wife sabi her man wahala.

At first, Halima happy say she see woman wey be her mate, think say dem go relate.

She smile, say "Good evening ma." Ifeoma just hiss, waka.

But sharp sharp, her hope scatter.

She begin see say things no set. Curtain tear, smell dey kitchen, nobody dey laugh.

Ifeoma just bone face, waka enter inner room.

Halima feel the house cold pass normal—door and window lock everywhere.

She touch window, glass cold. Silence dey bite. For her mind, trouble don dey grow.

The place dey tight, she con dey fear.

Her heart dey beat like talking drum. Instinct dey shout make she run, but leg dey weak.

When she try open door find air, e lock.

She twist knob, no gree open. She dey sweat, even though harmattan dey outside.

Musa Danjuma grab her from back, cover her mouth, pin am down.

He strong, grip dey like iron. Halima try scream, voice no come out. Her mind begin dey fade.

“Shut up! If you wan live, no move.”

His voice thick, spit dey touch ear. For that moment, Halima know say e don enter wahala.

Musa Danjuma throw Halima for bed like hungry wolf, pin her, begin tear her cloth.

Her wrapper tear, e no send. She dey kick, but Musa no dey hear. Na fight for life.

Halima scream, but the woman outside no send.

Ifeoma dey living room, dey watch NTA. Na so e always be—her own pain, her own silence.

The gentle Musa turn to wild animal, rape Halima.

No mercy, no talk. Just pain. For Halima, na beginning of end.

After, him eye turn wicked. E tie Halima hand with wire, choke her neck, threaten:

Wire cut her skin, neck dey hot. Musa dey talk, spit dey fly. Halima no fit shout, just dey cry for inside.

“Once you enter this house, forget am—you no dey go anywhere. No woman don escape me before.”

Her hope break. She see darkness for future. For her mind, she dey pray make God save her.

The more e talk, the more e dey happy. To kill dey give am joy—see person dey die for him hand dey make am feel like god.

Halima see am for his eye. E dey enjoy her fear, her pain. That one na real evil.

If e wan make person die, na sure die be that.

The way him hand dey strong, Halima know say if e press more, her story for end.

But this time, Musa Danjuma no succeed.

God hand dey there. Halima head strong, life still dey inside.

Halima feel say she dey suffocate, brain dey lack air, eye dey dance like candle for breeze, she pass out.

Her last memory na ceiling fan wey no dey work. Then everywhere blank.

She no know how long. When she wake, na heavy smell she dey choke on, body dey pain her everywhere.

Her chest dey tight, mouth bitter. Her body dey cold, but sweat full her face.

She open eye, everywhere dark and blurry.

But small light dey enter from up. As she look well, she see dead person face wey don rot finish for her front.

Maggot dey crawl for mouth. Eyes don suck in. Halima freeze, fear grip am.

Halima scream, struggle.

She use elbow hit, use knee kick. But no strength. Echo dey bounce for room—nobody answer.

But na only sticky, wet substance dey her hand.

Her hand dey slip. E dey touch wet skin, na so she know say e no be dream.

She no fit stand, no fit hold anything.

Leg dey weak, body dey pain. Na only tears dey flow.

Because under her na pile of rotten dead body.

She dey sleep on top flesh, hand dey touch bone. For her mind, she dey beg God.

Body wey dey leak, pack full everywhere.

Her nose block, but smell dey enter brain. She begin pray—“God, abeg, I no wan die like animal.”

Halima vomit, no fit stop. She wan run but na deep pit she dey—like yam store.

She empty belle, tears dey flow. All the pepper soup and zobo she ever chop for life, e don comot.

Survival spirit kick in—she no fit just die.

Her brain dey shout: "Fight, Halima, fight!" Na so Naija woman dey.

After she vomit finish, her head clear small.

She wipe mouth with torn wrapper, eye dey search for hope. For her mind, only pikin dey give her strength.

She know say na mass grave she dey. If she wan live, she gats save herself.

In this life, nobody dey save you. You gats find way.

Halima shout, nobody answer.

Her voice echo, but silence answer am. Only rat fit hear.

She force herself, hold her vomit and fear, begin stack dead body under her, dey climb up small small.

She dey use bone as ladder, dey push body, dey slip, dey shout. She dey pray as she dey climb, dey beg for miracle. Blood, smell, and hope dey mix for her mouth. For that moment, nothing else dey matter than to see sun again. But for this pit, sun no dey reach. Only shadow and the smell of death.