Chapter 3: The Great Escape

By the time those guys grab the boy and see say na wrong person, I don waka enter alley, reach my house area. Na so I dey jump gutter, dodge pepper seller, waka under shade like lizard.

But to enter upstairs, I no even try. My sense dey tell me say, "O boy, no go house o!" If I enter, na there dem go catch me.

People for comment section dey "doxx" me. Dem dey mention my name, dey post my face everywhere. Even my old neighbor dey call, dey ask if I dey okay.

Within half day, my address go leak. This place na just normal rent—hide here na suicide. For this city, na only ghost fit hide from social media.

I waka go parking lot, wan drive comot city. As I waka reach there, I dey pray make my car battery no disappoint me today.

Lucky, the car na new one, just register. My padi Musa follow me buy am that day.

New plate number never dey system. If dem check, na just blank—no wahala.

Even if person hack traffic database, e go take three to five days to find my plate. By then, me and the coin go don jand.

By then, I don far. I dey reason, maybe even cross state, hide for village wey get bad network.

Now, na only my padi, Musa, know about the car. Musa dey loyal, but my mind still dey reason.

I trust am die. E be like brother from another mother. Na only person I fit gist real plan.

Im dey active for billionaire comment section, but e never leak my plate. Instead, e dey pretend, dey give fake gist, dey send people go wrong side. That kind wahala go make anybody believe say e dey on my side.

True friend na better pass gold. I swear, if I hammer, I go give this guy at least some hundred million. For Naija, true padi na rare gem.

Thirty minutes later, I wear sunglasses, mask, just waka comot city. If LASTMA see me, dem go think say na celebrity dey do incognito waka.

Soon, I dey drive for mountain road wey no get camera. Two hours, I go reach my village. My village, Ogbomosho, dey peaceful—nobody dey ask too much question, everybody dey mind farm work.

The escape sweet me, as I dey think of the money, I happy like bird for morning. I dey imagine myself dey chop suya for Lekki with fine babe, dey drive big car.

I wind down, let mountain breeze blow me, dey imagine my next move. The smell of early morning rain mix with distant firewood soup dey enter my nose.

Once I near village, I go dump the car. I sabi one old pond wey dem dey use wash yam—na there I go sink am.

Even villagers, no trust them—so I go sink the car for pond. If pikin ask, I go tell am say car fly go heaven.

Midnight, I go sneak enter house from back. Make I waka under mango tree, pass yam barn, enter through back door wey mama dey use keep chicken.

Make my mama cover for me, I go hide for cellar. Na small space, but I fit manage, even if rat dey.

If wahala start, and dem wan search house, I fit jump fence, enter back bush. The bush thick, e dey hide person like ogbono for soup.

The bush no high, but e thick, plenty small rivers wey dey change direction every season. Even masquerade fit lose way for there.

I dey catch bird there when I small—I sabi the place well. Even old hunter dey respect me for the bush.

Even if dem bring dog, I go fit play hide and seek for days. I go climb tree, cross river, do commando waka.

By the seventh day, I no need even come out—the billionaire go send person come pick me. Na so I dey imagine, like person wey dey dream lottery.

Maybe helicopter go land for bush. Like film, dem go drop rope ladder, carry me fly. My mama go snap me for phone, put for church WhatsApp group.

I dey whistle, dey tap steering. My head dey swell. Na money dey do this one.

Dem talk say car na man best friend. To sink am for pond—e pain me small. Na only this car dey loyal since I finish school.

After all, I save for years to buy this my small but strong car. No be today hustle start.

But compared to helicopter, na small thing. If you wan chop big, you fit lose small, I reason.

The more I think, the more my plan dey perfect. I dey do calculation, dey imagine myself for CNN as Naija luckiest magician.

I dey smile. For my mind, na Rolls-Royce I dey drive, everybody dey look me. I dey wave imaginary crowd.

Na that time—gbam—

Car wey dey my back just jam me. My back head hit headrest, the shock rush my body like cold ice water.

Big crash—before I fit do anything, everywhere spin. The road just turn roundabout. My spirit almost comot.

The smell of burnt rubber choke my nose, screech of tires loud for ear, and dust fill my mouth and nose as I land—body dey shake like generator wey get plug wahala.

The car wey jam me na big truck. My small Japanese EV na paper—e scatter. The bumper, bonnet, everything scatter like biscuit.

The truck driver rush come, panic. E dey sweat, shirt tear, eye red.

I wan talk. My mouth dey move, but voice no gree come out. My chest dey burn.

For that moment, I get plenty to talk, but words no come out.

Because the driver no even look me—im go straight for my pocket, hand dey shake. The hunger for im eye no be here. Like say im dey see last hope for life.

E be like say all my bone don break. I just dey ground like rag. Even my finger no fit move.

Im find am. Im search my pocket sharp, no even send if my rib break. For this country, na only strong survive.

The driver raise the coin, tears full im eye. I see wetin big money fit do man.

"Thank God, thank God, money dey true… Yusuf, this time Papa fit leave you something… I fit die rest." Im voice shake, the kind way wey you go hear for burial ground.

My eye dey blur. Everything dey turn like old TV wey lose signal.

Small boy run come, hug im papa leg, dey cry, "I no want money, I want Papa." The boy dey shake, face dirty, but love dey im eye.

"Why you comot from truck?" The driver quickly cover im son eye. The pikin dey look me, tears full face.

"You jam person, police go come." The boy sabi as e dey go for Lagos.

"No, Papa sick, you hear? Papa no go jail. Papa go dey with you, Yusuf." The man try lie, but pikin sabi as e be. Everybody dey fight for survival.

Touching scene—papa love, pikin dey cry… I dey look dem, my heart dey pain, but wetin I go do?

I just cough blood. The taste bitter like ogogoro wey dem mix.

My body be like say dark hand dey drag me go underworld. My sight dey fade, but I dey see everything like dream.

The driver, wey dey feel guilty, look around, send the boy back to truck, then drag my body reach cliff, dey pant. Im dey fear, but money dey push am.

"Bro, you… you suppose understand, I really need this money."

"The pikin don lose im mama. If I no leave am something…"

"I just… I just no fit die rest." Im voice crack, im face strong, but tears dey hide for corner.

Im wan kill me, but still wan make I understand. For Naija, even thief dey explain im matter before e do bad thing.

I smile, bitter, try look up. My teeth red with blood, but I force am.

Na that time, my body shake, I sharply hold im wrist. Im surprise, eye open like catfish for basin.

Im jump, as if dead body wake, try remove my hand. Im dey shake, but my grip tight like jazz.

But I hold am, my eye see im phone—

For the open screen na private message:

"Exclusive info: Chinedu’s plate number, ten million."

"Too much? Eight million, then."

"..."

"Okay, two hundred thousand, last price, with real-time location. Take am or leave am. If you no want, I go find another person."

My hand dey shake, I for use am slap spirit if I fit. The kind betrayal wey dey pain deep for bone.

Na then I remember—Musa borrow my car. That day e say make e test drive for street.

Im get the linked app, so im know my plate, fit track me live. Na so betrayal dey sweet, like sugar inside garri.

Siren dey come. The driver panic, push me off cliff with all im power. The push strong, body cold.

I whisper, "Careful."

"Wetyn?"

The driver, sweat full body, look me, confuse. Im mouth dey shake, im hand dey tremble.

Next second, another car dey rush come from back. I hear am—brake noise, horn, people dey shout.

Im finally realize. Im face white, im let go me, begin run. Im leg dey move fast like Usain Bolt.

Crash, shout, driver dey cry. The sound of metal dey echo for air, people dey run, wahala dey everywhere.

I no get strength, I slide down cliff with the truck. I dey hear my own heartbeat as everything go silent.

This driver na mumu—just like me. For Naija, everybody wan do sharp guy, but sometimes sharp guy dey chop last.

As im collect the coin, na im turn to run. Na so the hustle dey go round like okada for express.