Chapter 4: In the Land of Monsters and Magic Meat

As we reach Kano, me and Nnenna join frontline, face Han army wey dey do Northern Campaign. After all, Baba Ojo tell me make I do everything to stop them.

City be like melting pot—Hausa, Nupe, Fulani, Tiv, all dey under hot sun. Our face different, but way we waka show say we no be ordinary traveler.

Mallam Sani spot us quick. Instead of wahala, he smile, arrange big feast.

He clap hand, tent full of laughter, spice aroma, calabash dey knock. Mallam Sani wear buba deep blue, turban shine, smile wide like Niger.

Inside army tent, dem bring food wey pass Makurdi own. The one wey shine pass na big, round, oily meatballs—like suya but with juju inside. Each one big like fist, dey smell sweet, dey tempt person.

Mallam Sani just dey praise am, say na him hand make am, soldiers dey chop am every time. He wink, roll one for palm, boast like magic. Other generals clap, dey laugh, mouth full.

Nnenna wan carry one, but I hold her hand. For these times, food scarce—even big man for Kano no fit dey chop meat like this. No Hausa man I know go waste meat like this, unless something strong dey inside.

My mind dey warn me. Nnenna look me, question for eye, but I eye am back: ‘No touch.’ Betrayal too much for this war.

"General Sani, since we dey waka, our belle never settle. We go leave meat for now."

I force smile, hold stomach like say worm dey. Old trick—better offend than die like mumu.

Mallam Sani look me, smile like fox:

"General Ifedike, you wan know where the meat from come? No wahala. Since I call una, I no go hide."

He snap finger. Servants freeze. Tent cold, air hold breath. My heart beat fast, trap don set.

He clap, cook enter. Right for our front, man begin make meatballs. Him face blank, knife dey cut flesh and bone, sound dey crack like firewood.

Each slice echo, each crack make hair for my neck stand. Cook move like man wey spirit dey push, eyes blank like masquerade mask.

The meatballs na from dead soldiers’ bodies.

My belle turn. Aroma change—now na death dey smell. Nnenna cover mouth, eyes wide.

Cook finish, put flesh for Mallam Sani. Mallam Sani recite incantation, cut finger, blood drop inside meat. As blood touch flesh, meatball form by itself.

Air shimmer, blood sizzle, balls roll together like dem get life. People for tent dey look, some don tire for horror, others no fit look.

Me and Nnenna no hold am, we vomit everywhere.

Taste of bile full mouth, knee weak, I spit for ground, shame no even enter mind. Tent feel like grave.