Chapter 5: Heat of the Past, Heat of the Present
My chest just tight.
E be like say air no dey pass well for my throat. My mind dey run, but my face dey bone.
Why... why he dey look me like that?
The stare strong, like say na only me dey for the whole studio. I dey try look away, but I no fit. My heart dey beat one kind.
"Teacher Musa?" He just dey hold my hand strong, so I gats remind am.
Na so I call him old school nickname, dey try break him trance. Staff dey look us, so I no want make anybody suspect anything.
He clear mind, let go, smile small. "Sorry, I dey tired these days. My mind just wander."
E talk am like say nothing dey, but the smile weak, the eye still dey reason something. I just nod, dey play along.
Na so e be.
For Naija, people dey expect celeb life dey sweet, but na lie. E get as e dey stress person mind.
Big celeb life no easy, always dey waka up and down.
Show, concert, interview, photo shoot—no time to rest. Even Sunday, you no fit go church in peace. Paparazzi go still find you for there.
He finish talk, face staff. "Make we go."
Voice calm, but I fit see say him mind still dey shake small.
After solo interview, show start.
Production crew dey run up and down, mic check, light dey flash. Na so e be for live event.
This time na live. Eight guests draw lot, everybody get role—dem suppose find secret treasure for school compound.
Na Naija style reality game. You go use leg, brain, and small sense. If you win, na bragging right for social media.
Production team talk say the winner name go be the new adult school for autistic patients.
Everybody dey cheer, some dey clap. E good say dem dey help community, but Naija people dey always look for angle.
As Yanshu Musa show, live comments just burst:
[Old Musa still dey young, na wa o]
Na so internet dey run wild. Some dey drop meme, some dey quote him old lyrics.
[Old Musa no dey do reality show o. Na charity fit make am show]
People sabi say he dey always do things for people sake, not for hype. E add to his legend.
[Old Musa too kind—every year dey donate to leukemia patients, even write song for dem. Na real idol be this.]
The love wey people get for am, e strong. Dem dey bring up his good deeds every chance dem get.
[Na because him first love die of leukemia? E fit be say na why him dey do this show. The guy too loyal, abeg.]
[True? Who be Yanshu Musa first love?]
All those online FBI people don start again. Dem dey dig gist like say dem get share for the matter.
[I think say na one babe for secondary school? He talk am for Facebook when him first blow, but now, if you check, na only recent posts dey.]
People dey run old posts, dey drop screenshots. Story dey fly left and right. Everybody dey do like say dem know everything.
I sit down for studio, dey look small monitor, my mind dey wander.
The green light for my camera dey blink. My head dey heavy, my heart dey race. I just dey do as dem direct, but my soul no dey there.
His first love... secondary school babe? Die of leukemia?
The talk dey make my body cold. I dey try match face to name, dey rewind old memory for my head.
I try remember, but I no fit match anybody.
Faces dey pass my head—Amaka, Halima, Blessing—but nothing fit. Nobody wey I remember get that kind wahala.
But I change school for final year, so I no sabi wetin happen after.
I no fit know who enter Musa heart after I commot. Na that time people dey change, life dey twist.
E fit be say na after I comot he meet the girl wey him like.
I dey convince myself say e get as e be. E fit be one new babe wey enter that year. Musa get plenty secret that time.
I look Yanshu Musa, my chest just empty.
The emptiness deep. E be like say breeze blow, carry my spirit. Na only shell remain.
Back then, he no dey close to anybody. I think say nobody fit reach am.
He dey waka alone for corridor, dey write lyrics for back of exercise book. Even boys wey get mouth no fit near am.
But e be like say somebody fit.
As e be so, na only Musa and God sabi the full matter. Even me wey try reach am, no enter.
I shake head, smile small.
I dey laugh myself. Na so life dey—sometimes, the person wey you dey try help dey get another helper wey you no know.
Now I even wan know the girl. For Yanshu Musa to change and still dey remember am after all these years, she really special.
I dey respect the babe for my mind. No be small thing to live inside person chest for that long.
After intro, host warm up everybody, then draw begin.
Host dey do small joke, dey make everybody relax. The camera dey show closeup, everybody dey expect drama.
Shamsiya lucky—she pick "top student" card, fit enter anywhere for school.
Na pure luck. She dey shine teeth, dey form big girl. You go think say she win lottery.
Yanshu Musa pick "underachiever" card, lowest level. If he wan enter anywhere, e must finish task.
As e pick am, everybody dey laugh. Na so reality show dey—dem go use card spoil your shine.
Yanshu Musa look the card, just smile like say nothing.
That smile strong. E no dey move face. You go think say he no even care, but na inside mind e dey count the wahala.
Back then, na so him be—always last or almost last, everybody sabi am as slacker. The role fit am well.
School report card that year na one way traffic. But e still dey show up, dey do him own.
Luckily, the show dey Palm Hill College—him own school.
Na him comfort zone, even if dem wan set trap. The old corners, backyard, basketball court—all na memory lane.
For Q&A, host ask make everybody share their most memorable school moment.
Na so camera dey pan left and right. You fit see who dey sweat, who dey ready.
Shamsiya arrange her hair, smile like say pain dey. "Secondary school no sweet me. Maybe because I fine, girls no like me, so I no get friend. Later for university, I meet one good friend, trust am finish, but when I dey suffer, she kick me join ground... But e don pass. I forgive am."
Her voice get that dramatic ring. Even her hand dey shake small. Na so dem dey use small gist win fans.
Comments just dey support her:
[I dey vex! Shamsiya too fine, why dem go bully am?]
Some dey drop "queen" emoji, some dey share old pictures.
[I understand. I sef fine, my classmates dey look me bad. No be my fault say I fine.]
Everybody dey form suffering for beauty. E fit be true, e fit be lie.
[Shamsiya too kind. She forgive them. Me, I for no forgive o.]
Online people dey always overdo. But e dey make Shamsiya shine more for camera.
Me I just dey look her from backstage, even dey respect her small.
I dey reason say this babe sabi play her script. E no easy to twist story like that without one person fit catch you.
To turn black into white, talk am vague—no names, no gist, nothing to confirm. That one too na talent.
She get sense for packaging. No wahala.
"Enough about me. Musa, how your own school days be?"
Sharp move. She shift focus, make am look like say she no dey carry story for herself alone.
She reach her goal, carry talk give Yanshu Musa.
Everybody face am.
All lights for studio face am. Even audience dey quiet, dey expect one deep talk.
He glance my side, smile small.
He glance me, then look away. The smile short, but e reach. Na so my heart jump small.
"E don tey. I no too remember."
He keep am simple, no story, no gist. Just soft, e dey protect himself.
For one moment, I feel somehow lost.
E be like say I dey outside room, dey look inside. I dey ask myself, "Who I be for this story?"
I no even sure whether na camera he dey look or na me.
But something for him eye no lie. E get small shine, like say him dey remember past.
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