Chapter 1: Sand No Dey Finish

For this Lagos, if you sell food, na wahala be your portion. I took over the school canteen, serving food wey students fit afford, yet parents still dey point finger say my price too high, say I dey do sharp practice.

E pain me well. For this city, even pure water don cost. Sometimes, as some parents dey look me, e be like say dem dey suspect say I dey hide big money for inside cooler. But wetin man go do? For Naija, if you try run business straight, people go still look you like thief.

Imagine, I no even dey see profit, but dem still dey yarn say I dey use students chop big money.

When I dey run my calculation for house, my wife go just shake head, dey ask: "Auwalu, this your business sef. You sure say you no dey lose?" But for outside, I dey bone face—dey form like say e no concern me, make people no see say I dey shake.

"See as e dey do, na only him dey chop belleful for this Lagos!" Na so dem dey hail me for street, some dey laugh, some dey squeeze face. My chest go just dey tight, like say I swallow stone. But na so Lagos be.

You know as e hard to send pikin go school? How you go dey so shameless?

One woman for PTA meeting use eye measure me from head to toe, hiss, whisper for her friend ear. Some dey claim say if na dem, dem for never collect that kind money. E tire person.

One man with big stomach go always clear throat, adjust him agbada, then talk: "If na me, I go fit cut cost by at least 50%. Food money wey students dey pay go drop from eight hundred per month to just four hundred." Him own, na to always remind everybody how cheap life be for him village.

But Principal wey don work with me for years, just dey quiet. Even when parents dey push wahala come my side, Principal go just dey look ground, dey adjust him glasses. Maybe e dey fear make dem no turn on am too.

No wahala. Oya, you try am now.

Me, I just bone face—dey form like say e no concern me. "No wahala, oga. If you sure, make you show us road."

I no argue. But as I wan hand over, I pause small, glance the faded photo of my wife wey dey my wallet. I remember the first day I take over the canteen—how my hand dey shake, but hope dey my chest. I swallow spit, then say, "Oya, I give you the business there and then."

People look me like say I craze. For my mind, I dey reason: if dem sabi pass me, make dem try. E go clear.

As expected, after three months, Principal come dey beg me: "Mr. Auwalu, abeg, the new contractor dey use rotten meat—zombie meat—just because e wan save money! Now the school don scatter. Abeg, come back, I dey beg you!"

E no even reach three months, everywhere don smell. Even the children dey complain. "Uncle, this stew get another taste o!" Teachers sef dey run go buy gala outside. Na Principal run come my shop with cap for hand, dey beg me make I rescue dem.

“The reason why students dey rush come our school before, na because the canteen food dey good and quality dey sure.”

My phone no rest that period. Dem go call me midnight sef. Some pikin even carry food home show their mama, ask, "Mummy, why e be like this?"

I just smile.

For my mind, I dey laugh small, but I no let am show. E dey sweet when people finally see your value.

Sorry, I no fit enter that wahala again.

I tell Principal say, "Oga, abeg, this matter don pass my power. Make una try another person. My own don finish."