Chapter 14: The Schoolgirl’s Clue

I suspected there must be some hidden secret between Nnenna and Baba Tunde.

Secrets do not die easily in Nigeria. They walk our streets in broad daylight, hiding behind laughter and Sunday clothes.

But one was a young girl, the other a greasy, middle-aged man in his forties—I really couldn’t imagine what kind of relationship they could have.

The thought made me uneasy. My mind raced through ugly possibilities, but nothing made sense.

Since Nnenna was almost always watched by her parents at home, her only chance to contact Baba Tunde would be at school.

School is where secrets grow—shared notes, whispered plans, laughter in the corridors.

I took Baba Tunde’s photo and went to Nnenna’s school to investigate, but her teachers and classmates all said they’d never seen him before.

Even the principal, a no-nonsense woman with thick glasses, said, 'Officer, my students know only their books.'

Just as I was about to leave, one girl with eyelashes long like broom and nails painted with the Nigerian flag suddenly held my arm. “If I give you a clue, will you give me a reward?”

Her voice sweet like Agege bread, but eyes sharp like market thief. Her eyelashes fluttered like wings. I sighed, knowing how fast news spreads in girls’ hostel.

I forced a smile. Baba Tunde had already been caught, so there was no reward, but I really needed a clue.

I remembered the saying: 'If you want water, sometimes you fetch with basket.'

I added the girl on WhatsApp and sent her a two-thousand-naira airtime top-up. Her name was Amara, and her status was full of clubbing pictures.

Her status showed her in colourful wigs, dancing with bottles in hand. I wondered if her parents knew.

Amara didn’t give me the clue immediately. Instead, she told me to wait for her at the school gate after class. I had no choice but to agree.

When it comes to clues, patience is better than bribe.