Chapter 1: The Slot Don Loss

I spent twenty-five million naira to buy a school district apartment, but when I went to register my daughter for school, I found out the slot had already been used.

For a moment, I felt like my heart stopped. That kind of money, the way we all hustled for it, just so Ifeoma could get a good start. Yet, some other person’s child was reaping where they didn’t sow. Na wah! I just hold chair, dey look ceiling. My hand dey tremble.

And somehow, a seven-year-old boy had mysteriously appeared on my family’s compound registration.

My spirit just weak. How dem fit run me street like this? My mind dey race—abi na village people dey follow me?

Panicked, I tracked down the boy’s parents to confront them, but they didn’t even feel any shame. “Abeg, my pikin don start school since last year. If you like vex, na your wahala. At worst, I fit dash you two hundred thousand naira as compensation.”

The audacity! I just dey look them. The wife sef dey chew gum, dey bounce leg. My chest dey rise like generator wey no get oil. For this Naija, some people really no dey fear God. See as she dey form madam, no even send person—God go judge am.

I vex no be small.

The kind anger wey dey my chest, e fit cook beans. My hand dey shake. Na only God hold me make I no do pass myself that day.

As I dey prepare to sue them, I use my status as his legal guardian to transfer their son’s student registration to one remote village for Taraba wey dey for map but road no reach.

If dem wan do anyhow, dem go see anyhow. My own don reach—no be only their pikin go enjoy sharp practice. I set everything up sharp sharp, no time to waste.

This time, na their own turn to dey run up and down.

I even imagine as their belle go dey sweet dem when dem see say na their turn chop pepper. Make dem feel am small.

And I get every right: “Since we dey the same family compound registration, na my son he be now. Wetin happen to my son no concern una again.”

As I dey talk am, my voice just dey high. Even neighbors begin gather gist. Nobody fit collect my slot chop free, lai lai.

As I dey look the registry screen, I swear, my whole life just hang like NEPA wire—anything fit cut.