Chapter 8: Afterlife Banter

As I dey inside coffin, I once ask system how my stabbing skill be.

Coffin cold, spirit dey hover. For my mind, I dey reason, "System, this your advice na wash."

System answer, tired: “Stab wetin? Main man no even wound reach scratch.”

If na just scratch, why after three years, Femi still dey find revenge?

If no be strong thing, e for don leave me for gutter. But Naija man no dey forgive easy.

That time, I die clean—how he even find me?

I check my memory—no be ordinary eye dey look my body that time. Maybe them get babalawo for payroll.

As I dey reason am, door open.

The hinge cry small, cold breeze follow am enter. My mind nearly fly comot.

And na Femi, the same person wey I dey think of, enter.

Him shadow reach ground, step sure. Na only him fit break this kain silence for night.