Chapter 4: Baptism of Blood

When war start, dem assign you to one battalion commander. For the twelve wey remain, six run that same day. Three dem catch, kill them with gun for una front.

Na blood scatter ground, na fear hold your neck. The gunshot loud for your ear, na so boys begin shiver. Some boys dey vomit, others close eye, dey recite Psalm 23 for mouth. War no get friend.

One boy dey hum "Sweet Mother" under him breath, voice shaky. You no run, because the big man no run too.

You dey look e back, e no even shake. Na so you plant foot for ground, talk for your mind say, "if na die, na die."

You talk say, "Brother, I never go school before, but I dey hear storytellers dey talk old tori: from now, you be Sango, I go be Ogun. Anywhere you go, I go follow."

Your voice shake, but words strong. Boys wey dey near, dem begin smile small, some dey hail you "Ogun!" Big man look you like say e no expect am. For that moment, your own fear run, courage enter body like pepper.

The man shock small, then him eye just red. He pat your head, come give you one strong punch.

Your head ring, but you happy. Na love, na brotherhood. For Naija, na only pikin wey you like you fit beat like that. Some boys laugh, tension scatter small. Na so war dey turn strangers to family.

E pain you well.

Na real pain, like thunder. But you gree. You rub your head, hiss, but deep down your chest dey warm. The big man grin, teeth white for dark face. For that war, na only one thing sure—if death come, e go meet brothers, not strangers.