Chapter 1: The Dog Wey No Wan Forget

My uncle once get guide dog—a dog wey dem no even certify officially. For our street, where dust dey rise pass morning akara smoke, e rare to see such thing. If person get guide dog, people go just dey hail am as if na juju dey inside the animal. Dem go call am miracle say the dog na blessing from above, say only big people for obodo oyibo dey fit get that kain privilege. But if you know how things be, you go sabi say the wahala no be to buy dog—na the training dey chop money pass. Ordinary Golden Retriever or Labrador sef no too choke pocket, but to train am make e sabi road like oyibo guide dog, na there wahala start. Omo, you go empty your pocket reach seven million naira if you wan train am correct.

So, the truth be say, for Naija, most guide dogs wey blind people dey use no too get all those big grammar training. Dem just learn small small sense, nothing special. My uncle own Golden Retriever na exactly that type. He pick am from puppy, only two months old, carry am go learn work small for Ilorin and Osogbo, still end up spending more than 1 million join.

Everything dey smooth for beginning. My uncle no dey see road, but that dog dey help am cross, find road, even sidon for market dey wait patiently. If you see dem together, you go think say dem dey do jazz. But after two years, wahala land. One night like that, as my uncle dey try come house, e reach that old bridge wey dey our area, the kain bridge wey don dey since colonial time, the dog just lose focus. My uncle pause, hold the dog leash tight, sense say something no pure, but before e fit talk, the dog yank am forward. Instead of follow uncle cross, e start dey chase shadow, before we know, e lead my uncle fall inside river.

Omo, na so my uncle take drown. The cry for family house that night, e heavy for air like rain wey no wan stop. Everybody gather, dey shout, dey call pastor, dey pray. But nothing fit change am—uncle don go. For the wake-keeping, people no even look face, dem hold the dog begin flog, almost finish am. The animal dey cry, roll for ground, leg don break, but dem no send am. Even elders dey shout, 'Na this dog kill am!' One of my aunties kneel for floor, dey shout, "Blood of Jesus! Every spirit wey dey inside this dog, fire consume am!" I just stand for gate, dey watch as everybody dey para. As the dog limp come my side, people start to shout, 'Hold am! No let am run!'

My body dey shake, I wan join stop am, but as I see water for the dog eye, like say e dey beg me, I weak. The kain way e dey look me, na only person wey don suffer fit get that look. My chest just soft.

That moment, my whole family begin rain curse on top my head. 'Na you dey pamper this dog! Na you encourage am!' Dem point finger, mouth sharp like blade. I wan talk say the dog don wound already, e no even fit waka again, but how I wan take talk am when person wey raise me don die? Na only inside me I just dey cry.

E suppose end there, but after my uncle burial, the dog still dey waka go that bridge every day. E go just go siddon for riverbank, dey look river, dey whine, dey act like say e dey wait for person. Sometimes, early morning harmattan go make the river foggy, but Tunde still dey sit for same spot, eyes red, nose dey sniff air. People dey pass, dey point, dey shake head. For dem eye, e dey look like film—dog wey dey miss im oga.

Na so dem begin talk story—some dey compare am to that Japanese dog, Hachiko, wey wait for im master for years. But the ones wey know wetin really happen, anytime dem see the dog, e dey pain dem. Some even talk say na sign say the dog dey remind the family of pain, as if e dey mock us.

That bridge still be my main road go shop every day. Each time I reach there, I go see the dog—Tunde na im name—e go limp come meet me, dey whine, tail wag small. Na our compound e grow, e sabi my face well. Sometimes, e go dey push head near my leg, dey wait make I drop something for am.

But wetin I go do? If I try show am pity, if I feed am, na who go wipe my uncle tears? E get as e be for heart.

As e be, I dey run small provision store for junction. Sometimes, all those indomie wey expire, sausage wey don pass date, I no dey throwaway sharp sharp. I go just boil am, carry go bridge pour for Tunde. E go rush, chop am with joy, as if na Jollof rice. Sometimes I go just fling sausage, make e dey survive. Nothing concern me, as e no get anybody again.

I just reason say, if e die, e die. Person no fit come dey carry dog matter for head when dem still dey bury uncle pain.

After Tunde finish chop, e no dey follow me go house. E go just waka limp back to riverbank, siddon for the same spot, dey look river, dey whine for mouth like say e dey cry.

Anybody wey don keep dog before go know say dem sabi act drama. This Tunde—if you see as e dey behave, you go pity am. Sometimes e go lie down, eyes red, just dey look like say na person heart dey inside dog body.