Chapter 4: Musa Garba

For all the groomsmen, na this one I remember pass. His name na Musa Garba. For my last life, na him first disgrace my sister, na him still kill me. Even small pikin for village dey run when Musa dey pass.

Musa Garba dey notorious for the village. His papa na hunter, but Musa no get pity for anybody. The way he dey look people, e dey like say he fit chop person raw. That scar for his face na from old fight for market square—people dey fear am. My mind dey boil, but I gats use sense, not strength.

Musa Garba look me, raise him glass, down am sharp-sharp, dey show himself. I just dey smile. He get role for my plan—I no fit let am go.

He even wipe mouth with back of hand, slap his chest. "Brother, if you fit drink pass me, I go give you gift." People laugh. I play along, but my mind dey plan.

I finish the toast, waka go back. As I reach, my sister and her friend don disappear.

I quick check around—no see their wrapper, their shoe for corner. My heart just dey beat. I know wetin fit happen if I slack. I dey curse myself say I turn back, even for small time.

My heart skip. I run enter next room. As I think am, na there dem carry my sister go for my last life. Her friend dey show her wedding photos.

Room cold, candle dey blink. I see Halima dey show my sister one big album—photos full ground. My sister dey laugh, her smile pure, but my own heart dey fly.

“Brother, come see! These pictures fine well.”

She dey wave one photo, dey invite me. I no fit act like say nothing dey wrong, but I try put small smile.

I no send devil picture. I give them the cup. “Party never finish outside. Today too good, sis—make we toast the bride together.”

I no let the moment waste. I set the cup, pour wine, my hand steady even as my mind dey run. This toast na the key to my plan.

My sister’s friend dey form say she no fit drink. But the less she fit handle drink, the better for me.

Halima dey cough small, dey look my face, as if she wan dodge. But for this kind matter, na who quick act dey win.

I smile, talk, “Big day like this no dey come every time. If you miss am today, e no go sweet again. Try am—this wine no too strong.”

I dey encourage her like elder for family. For village, if elder offer you drink for celebration, you must chop am, else people go say you dey disrespect tradition.

As she see us drink, she no fit dodge again, she rush am finish, then cough.

She choke, her eyes red. Small tears drop for eye corner. My sister surprise, dey rub her back. For my mind, I dey thank my stars.

My sister surprise. “Ah-ah, how you take drink am finish? We just dey sip.”

My sister dey laugh, her voice soft. "Halima, na champion you be o!" The room get small joy, but my eye still dey watch window.

Her friend dey fumble. “Na so I see am for TV.”

She dey lie, but nobody send her. She try act big, but her body dey betray am—her hand dey shake, her speech dey slow.

My sister laugh, I join. The wine strong and don old. For her to rush am, e help me—no need to force her drink more. Now, I just go wait make the drink begin work.

We dey laugh together, but inside me, I dey count time. I dey pray make her body quick weak so she no fit carry out her evil plan.