Chapter 2: Ghost Thread for Arm

The next day, one old man wey look tattered grab my arm, talk say, "O boy, na ghost don catch you so."

See as this man waka reach me, his wrapper dirty, slippers one side, teeth brown like ogogoro don finish am, and sweat dey shine for him forehead even as morning still cold. Him grip strong pass as e look, like those baba wey dey sweep shrine for village. The moment him hand land for my arm, cold catch me small, because for my mind, I dey reason say wetin this kain man wan talk this early morning.

"And no be just any ghost—na the wickedest one."

His voice get that kain croak wey old men get for their chest, like person wey dey cough for Sango smoke house. He bend near me, make sure say nobody else dey hear. If na film, na here soundtrack for danger for start.