Chapter 2: The Night Before

I get one eye wahala from birth.

From small, people dey always ask, "Wetin dey do your eye?" Na so-so waka I dey waka with stick. My mama pray tire, but as God design am, na my own cross be that. For street, everybody sabi me—the boy wey dey look sky but no dey see anything.

To talk am straight, I dey blind.

Sometimes people go try package am, call am spiritual attack, but na doctor for General Hospital confirm say my eye no go ever clear. I no dey see anything, not even people shape, everywhere just blank.

I no born blind fully; na secondary school my eye start to spoil. From clear, to dey blur, to the point I no fit know person from dog if dem far, until darkness swallow everywhere—within six months.

E start slow. First, I dey squint to see blackboard, then I dey miss step for assembly ground. E pain my mama, but e just dey worse. I remember Uche, my padi, dey help me copy note. By SS2 finish, darkness don take over, na so I become the blind boy for area.

But I adapt. I find work wey dey pay small, dey share two-bedroom flat with one work padi, not far from office.

No be everybody get that luck. For Naija, if you dey struggle, e easy to lose hope, but I tell myself say my condition no go keep me for house. The job no pay big, but I fit buy bread, take okada reach work, life dey move. People dey greet me for street, sometimes dem help me cross road. Even the conductor for my bus dey always shout, "Blind man, abeg, your bus don reach!"

I for like peace and quiet, but my family no gree. "You no fit stay alone o!" My mama go shout. "What if something do you?" Even my uncle join, say make I find roommate. Dem talk, talk, talk, I gree.

Awei na good roommate—e dey pay rent on time, no dey do wahala. But to say e really reliable—hmm, I no too sure.

Person fit dey live with you, you no sabi the kain heart e get. Awei get him good side—sharp with him part of rent, dey help buy bread. But e dey secretive; him mind no dey rest.

For woman matter, na him dey cause wahala. Even though e get babe for far, every few days new woman go show. E dey drink, dey boast.

The kain gist e dey drop dey make me laugh. "My guy, no woman fit resist me!" I dey reason say na shakara. Him toasting even for compound dey make neighbors dey gossip. But for Naija, so far e no cross line, nobody send.

One day, e say him go invite office padi dem make dem come drink, ask me if I go join. I tell am no.

I no too like crowd, especially when drink dey flow. Once beer land, wahala fit start. I tell am, "Abeg, no vex, I go waka small, make una enjoy." If you hear the laughter wey follow, you go know say dem dey enjoy. Me, I go find breeze for outside.

Blind man ear dey sharp, and I no like noise. So I waka as usual, come back when everywhere don calm.

Na so these IT boys dey—party fit reach 2, 3 a.m. for Lagos, but dem no get that energy. I sabi dem laugh, sabi count who dey by slippers sound.

I waka my normal path, cane dey tap gutter, pothole before gate. For Lagos, twenty minutes waka na normal if you sabi road.

This my area, rent cheap, old building. Kain stair dey squeak, wall brown, rain dey leak. But anywhere near office wey rent cheap—na blessing. My mama still dey pray for me for this one.

Eleven, twelve, thirteen…

As I dey count stairs, cane dey tap, hand dey guide me. Paint don wash, some neighbor fit dey peep from window, dey wonder who dey waka for night.

Thirty-three steps left, I reach our door.

My foot measure space between wall and the wooden chair wey always dey for corridor. I sabi the crack for tile before our doormat. My hand find the door, cold for palm.

Inside, everywhere quiet.

For Lagos, after party, you suppose hear music or plate dey wash, but today—dead quiet. I pause, dey reason if I enter another house. But I catch my own air freshener scent. Na my house be this.

I bring out key, search for handle in the dark, but as I touch the door, e just swing open.

My heart skip. For Lagos, nobody dey leave door open unless wahala dey.

I dey wonder how much Awei drink wey e forget lock door.

We dey always warn each other. Maybe e drink pass him power or just tired.

Creak—

The door open with one long, thin groan. Sound drag like person dey cry for night. Hair for my body stand.

Cold harmattan breeze blow my neck, my body shake.

Balcony door spoil since, landlord no dey answer call. Rain don soak my shoe once, Awei promise say him mechanic friend go fix am soon.

Inside, the air get smell—burnt mosquito coil still dey linger, mix with stale beer, ogogoro, sweat, and that silence wey follow after party. Na the silence worry me pass.

"I don come back. Una finish early today?"

My voice echo for parlour. Normally, Awei go shout, "Guy, you don come!" but today na only my voice dey answer. I fumble for switch, no light.

I talk as I enter, close door behind me. I use my cane block am, hear as e lock. For Lagos, you no play with door for night.

Another creak.

E be like person dey tiptoe, but I tell myself say na old house noise. My ear dey search for any sign of life.

Everywhere too quiet, I dey hear my own breath. For Lagos, silence fit loud pass noise. My heart dey pound—like danfo horn for Oshodi—loud, no gree stop.

I no dey comfortable. If body dey tell you say something no pure, better dey alert. My mind dey flash different picture.

"Awei?"

I raise voice, e still shake. If na play, Awei for answer. I dey hope say e go laugh, "Guy, you too dey fear!"

I hold breath, wait. No answer. E be like say time stop. I dey count heartbeat, hear only fan whir for my room.

Na only drip, drip of water I hear reply me. Like tap wey dey leak for kitchen, sharp sound.

Kitchen tap still need repair. I don tell Awei since, "Call plumber!" but e dey wave am. Small thing fit turn big wahala.

Awei don waka or sleep? I no sure. I dey reason whether to lock door—I no want make e knock midnight say make I open door. If I lock, e fit vex; if I leave, anybody fit enter. Na Lagos we dey.

Then, apart from my own breath, I hear another—heavy, slow. No be my own, no be Awei snore. My body stiff, stand still.

Heavy, steady, one way. E be like say e dey come from Awei room. My ear sharp, I sabi difference between human and wind. This one alive.

I press cane for ground, shift ear, picture house for my mind. The breathing dey match Awei room.

"Awei, you don sleep?"

I force voice steady, dey hope na just Awei crash for bed. Only that soft breathing answer me. I wait—no shift, no door open. Just that slow in and out.

I relax—maybe guy drink pass himself, crash for bed. I tell myself, "No fear, na just your mind." I breathe deep, try calm chest.

I tiptoe go my room, careful not to touch anything. For this house, my touch and smell dey guide me.

I waka go my room, wash up, dey ready to sleep when my colleague call.

Na that kain awkward call: "Guy, you don reach?" I try sound normal, voice low make I no disturb. Phone dey vibrate, I thank God say alarm dey work.

"Hello? Mm, I don reach… Awei? I no know, e enter room go sleep before I return, I never talk to am… If na work, talk to am tomorrow… Okay, you sef rest, good night."

I yarn like nothing dey, but for mind wahala dey play. My colleague voice still dey ring.

After I drop call, I just sleep sharp-sharp.

Na so I tuck under wrapper, pray small, close eye. My ear still dey search for sound, but tiredness win. Sleep carry me before I know.