Chapter 5: New Business, New Bonds

From that day, Chijioke start dey come hospital late, look tired, old energy gone. Stress dey show—eye red, cloth rough, sometimes just dey look window.

One evening, when guards nor dey, he knock soft: "I fit come in?"

Voice low, almost whisper. My heart jump, but I keep face strong.

I dey table, wan hide books, panic, dem fall scatter. Na all medical books—orthopaedics, bone injuries.

Chijioke quick come help pick am. Hand fast, mind scatter. He look up, eyes dey shine small hope.

"These books..."

"I tell you, I go cure your leg."

My confidence high. For Naija, connection dey move mountain.

I gather books. "No worry. I don find top orthopaedic professor. Soon, you go return stage."

But Chijioke no look happy. Him smile fade, life dey press am.

Immediate trouble dey pass distant hope. For Naija, person fit promise heaven, but na ground you sleep.

He dey under pressure from compensation matter. I ask: "Wetin happen?"

"Nothing. You suppose rest—no dey read too much."

"You look tired. Why not quit job? I don make progress with professor. Treatment fit start soon."

Chijioke hesitate, finally talk: "About accident—the factory want make I pay compensation. I dey work overtime, hope pay am quick."

I use chance probe: "How long e go take? You don think other way?"

He silent. I act casual: "I for ask help, but since you dey busy, forget."

He quick ask: "No wahala, wetin be am?"

"My bag burn before, all my cosmetics don spoil. I need new ones. But this our town na bush—you no fit buy anything here."

"If person want something, na to go city. E far, transport wahala too much."

"So, if person bring goods from city come sell here, e go help everybody."

Chijioke quiet, dey think. I see brow frown, then relax. At last, he look me, excited: "I go city for you tomorrow!"

Face bright, like lotto winner. I nod, proud of plan.

As expected—male lead I write, sharp and quick.

Next evening, Chijioke rush come, excitement full body. E wan check which products sell pass, try open stall.

He dey talk fast, hand dey wave. For him eye, hope dey shine. Na so correct Igbo man dey start business.

I smile, gentle. "You dey try, I believe in you."

He touched, eyes soft. "I too narrow before. I misunderstand you."

He blush. "You stubborn, bossy, unreasonable—but na just for mouth."

He laugh small. "For risking your life save me, I know you get good heart."

Progress sweet. From witch to angel—who go believe?

But e never do.