Chapter 8: Spirit or Human?

My head dey ring, my mind blank, train horn still dey my ear.

I dey try balance for ground, my hand dey shake. "Wetin do you? You jam bad thing for night or enemy set you up?" Baba Mo look me.

I wan talk say—no be you set me up?

But for Naija, you no dey accuse your elder without evidence. I hold my mouth.

Even though Baba Mo na my uncle-master, we no get big age gap. We grow up together, I no believe say he go harm me.

"Yesterday night, Halima come see me."

I look sky, small light dey show, talk calm.

Baba Mo mouth open, shock write for him face. "True?" Baba Mo eye big like torch, mouth wide like say he fit swallow egg.

I nod. "Na true."

Baba Mo slap him lap. "That woman don die—three days now."

The thing land my head like stone. Cold just catch my body, hair stand.

No wonder—how living person go look like that?

"Wetin she find you do?"

Baba Mo find cigarette for pocket, give me one, light for himself, puff like three times.

He dey shake, hand no steady, the lighter nearly fall. "She ask me about the tattoo. She think say na me do her bad."

I never smoke for long, after two puff, cough wan finish me.

But as I watch Baba Mo, I dey reason say something dey off. The old man no dey do like himself.

Baba Mo no dey smoke.

Since that time for Jos when dem set am up, he swear say smoke na curse. Long time ago for Jos, he smoke stranger cigarette, dem put drug, set him up, him babe die. Since then, he no dey near smoke at all.

If this one no be Baba Mo, who be this?

My body just dey cold again.

I remember say for Yoruba land, if spirit dey disguise as person, e fit forget small thing, make mistake. My mind dey run helter-skelter.