Chapter 3: The Spirit-Eye for Mansion Wahala

As I enter the stretch black Benz, the driver look me up and down, hiss, then tell Kamsiyochukwu, "Oga Kamsi, fraudsters full everywhere—no let dem use you o."

The way the man squeeze face, e be like say dem thief am for Oshodi. Im eye dey sharp, nose long, like person wey sabi run matter for street.

Kamsiyochukwu just give me sorry smile.

That kind smile wey dey say, 'Abeg, forgive this my person.' Me, I just shift for seat, arrange my bag, dey enjoy the soft leather. AC blow me, body sweet.

Me, I no send am. I smile back.

Two million naira just for waka money—why I no go happy?

My mind dey dance galala for inside me. Na so I begin calculate how much suya and phone recharge I fit buy.

Kamsiyochukwu talk say during this period, e don carry different people come the compound, say na prophet or renovation, but nobody see anything.

I imagine say na one or two fake pastors go don chop the man money before. Naija wahala no dey finish. Everybody wan try luck.

All of dem think:

Either na Kamsiyochukwu forget something,

Or the house don change before, maybe hidden room dey,

Or maybe two people dey share one room for hide.

I fit bet say even one of the prophets go ask make dem do midnight vigil, pour olive oil everywhere. I just dey look the man, e face tight, like say hope dey, but e dey fear.

As Kamsiyochukwu talk this, him eye come dull small.

E be like say e prefer make the thing be spiritual than say na human error.

You know say for Naija, to get wahala wey be spirit, dey better than make people say you don dey craze. At least, spirit get solution; madness no get.

I dey imagine the compound go big—after all, na seven bedrooms just for second floor. But as I see am, e still shock me.

Omo! The house na mansion. Fence high, security light dey blink, two security guards dey by gate. Garden neat, grass short, flower fine like wedding cake. Swimming pool dey shine, no single leaf for water. Money really show for this place.

The mansion dey for one hillside outside town, road quiet, big iron gate. Omo, this road quiet, no be like Lagos wey go-slow fit make you sleep for bus. After garden and small swimming pool, you go see fine white house.

Even the breeze for that side get style—no be Lagos dust breeze o. As car stop, driver rush come open door, I stretch leg, check my cloth make sure I no resemble village girl. The house dey like something from TV.

Inside, the building na round style, rooms just dey round the spiral staircase for center.

Marble everywhere, painting for wall, chandelier dey hang for parlour. Smell of air freshener mix with small jollof rice aroma from kitchen. As I waka inside, shoe dey make kpakpakpa for floor—my mind dey alert, no time to dull.

"Second floor follow same pattern?" I ask.

Kamsiyochukwu nod, check him watch. "I get meeting soon. Miss Musa, abeg wait here. Chief steward go carry you go upstairs."

I catch the way e dey look me, e eye dey sharp but e try hide am. E no sure whether I be real or I dey try use trick.

E still dey look me like say e no too trust me, but e dey try behave.

Maybe e think say na Uncle Musa send me come first check before e go show. Even if e no trust me, e no show am.

For Naija, if person no trust you but still dey try respect, na sign say e get hope say miracle fit happen.

I shrug. "No wahala."

I cross leg, dey observe the golden wallpaper, dey count how many time the clock for wall go tick before dem come carry me.

Na that time, door for right burst open.

Four people waka come out, dey gist about ayo game.

Dem dey laugh, dey talk loud, the way old people dey do when dem win small money for game. The sound fill the corridor, warm but sharp.

Kamsiyochukwu greet all of dem.

"Papa, Mama, Papa, Mama—una finish to play?"

I look well.

Two old couples—one fat, one thin.

For this kind house, you go expect everybody go dey gentle, but these ones dey walk with authority, like say na dem get the place.

But wetin shock me be say as dem see Kamsiyochukwu, dem face just change—dem no happy at all.

You know say some elders dey, if dem no like you, dem eye fit cut through rock. Dem no even pretend.

"Why you dey bring strangers come house again?" the thin aunty talk with cold face. "House wey Amaka choose, e get bad spirit?"

She cross hand for chest, mouth sharp, voice dey ring for corridor. Other elders join her with side eye.

Kamsiyochukwu answer with respect, "I just wan make dem check before we renovate—just for peace of mind."

He talk soft, almost like pikin, try calm the wahala. If na me, I for don walk out, but the man get patience.

Another aunty, wey dey wear big church cross, look me from head to toe, hiss, then shout, "Check wetin? If na visit you wan do, e better. But to carry this small pikin come say na prophet? That one no make sense. Chief steward, abeg, show this guest the way out!"

Her voice sharp like person wey dey lead women’s fellowship. E be like say she dey ready to call prayer point if I talk too much. I see the way she squeeze her face, no even wan hear story.

The rest three elders look me with the same eye—dem all join her side.

One of the uncles don dey shout already:

"Chief steward! Chief steward!"

I vex small.

I dey try arrange myself, make person no spoil my hustle. All this respect wey I dey keep, make I no waste am.

As I poor reach, na now chance come to make money, una wan spoil my run?

For my mind, I dey calculate the pepper soup wey this money go buy if I fit handle these elders.

I close my eyes for one second, then open am, fix my eye for the cross-wearing aunty. I catch one small shine for her brown eye.

Spirit-eye dey open, I see as e dey blink. Some things, no be for ordinary eye to see. My head dey light, like when malaria dey start, but I push the power small. I ready my mind, push small memory enter her head.

I twist my lips, smile, talk:

"So na you. You no remember me?"

Her body freeze for one moment. Her pride dey fight am but the Spirit-eye don touch her mind.

She frown, no patient. "Wetin you dey talk? I no know—"

For her mind, e dey scatter. Suddenly she pause, look me again, mouth open small.

She just pause, like say memory flash, look me up and down, force smile, shout:

"Ah! Na you!"

E shock the other elders. I see as her pride melt small, her hand dey shake.

"Last time for church, I see many people dey kneel for your blessing. I wait tire, no even get chance. I no believe say you go come our house! M-Mama Prophet, abeg, make I fit greet you today?"

She dey look me with respect, her eyes dey almost cry.

I feel the ripple go through the group. Everybody begin dey suspect maybe na true. For Naija, once person wey get church power kneel, everybody dey follow.

The other three shock. One—her husband, I think—ask:

"When you go church? Why I no know?"

Him face dey twist, like say wahala dey come. I just dey form mystery, dey add small drama.

I just smile, dey form mystery, dey enjoy their confusion.

As I stand there, I dey feel the power dey draw from me like harmattan dey dry stream. My chest tight, headache dey knock, but I gats finish this work. I no fit do this thing pass one or two times, but for now, e dey enough.

Person mind be like fortress: firewall for front, old wall for inside. Our Musa blood don weak, and with that curse, to enter person subconscious no easy—only few Musa ancestors fit do am.

But to plant fake memory for person mind? That one still easy.

The trick be say, if you touch the right memory, plant am where e dey soft, the person go believe am. But you go pay the price—after one or two days, e go clear.

But e no dey last—just one or two days e go clear.

And anytime I use my Spirit power, e dey cost me.

But as I reason am—if I fit collect Kamsiyochukwu eight million later, e still balance.

As the rest dey look me with shock, I allow cross-wearing aunty kneel for me.

One.

Two.

Three times.

Even the marble floor no believe am. Kamsiyochukwu just stand, him eye wide, like say e no believe wetin e dey see.