Chapter 2: Wetin Person Go Chop?

Back when I dey secondary school, my mama no gree give me any money—she no even drop one kobo. She talk say if I stubborn reach to dey go school, make I no fear hunger. But I still go, dey hold that two hundred naira wey I manage hide.

Na so I dey guard that two hundred naira like national cake. Every night, I go count am like say I dey do accounting for CBN. If small wind blow am comot, na wahala. My mama sabi run her mouth—she go look me up and down, ask if na school go feed person for this country.

I use that two hundred naira dey manage for almost two weeks, just dey patch life. When the money finish, na only water I dey drink. That time, even kettle no dey for class. Na cold pure water I dey use fill belle. E be like say harmattan cold wan finish me; my inside just dey freeze. If I shake body, e go be like say water dey dance inside my stomach.

Sometimes, I go press my stomach, just dey imagine say e dey full. Harmattan fit crack lip, but na my throat dry pass. Some days, as I dey squeeze water satchet for mouth, I go dey reason how people for North dey survive with just millet and kuli-kuli. Life humble me.

At fourteen, I hungry for three days straight. After that, e be like say anybody wey I see, I fit chop am. Even the grass wey dey roadside dey tempt me—I pick am, taste am.

Na bitterleaf I chop that day. As e bitter reach my tongue, tears nearly fall. I remember how my grandma dey squeeze bitterleaf for soup, but that one dey sweet—this one just dey bite tongue. But still, I force am. Hunger no dey look face. Some boys for class dey laugh, call me goat. But who hunger epp?

As I almost faint from hunger, Ochuko dey chop food near me. I just dey look am, and he come look me back. I no even move, I just dey focus on the food.

My eyes big, I no even blink. Na rice and beans with stew. The aroma dey knock my head. If person pass, dem go think say na jazz dey worry me. I no even get strength to hide am. Hunger no get shame.

Ochuko fear the way I dey look am reach, e come softly ask me whether I wan chop with am.

Na him soft voice wake me from daydream. E talk am like person wey dey beg me. "You wan chop?" My heart skip. This one no be pity, na fear dey ginger am.

My eye shine quick. "I fit?"

God, abeg, if na only today I fit chop, make e be now. I try smile, but na teeth dey show, no be happiness. I dey look the spoon like say na gold. For my mind, I dey pray make e no change mind.

He just breathe out, nod head. "Chop, jare. My mama pack too much, I no fit finish am..."

Before Ochuko even finish, I don carry spoon. That rice sweet like party jollof. I forget all my manners, just dey rush am. I no even dey look face again.

Later, Ochuko talk say that time, the way I dey look no be like say I wan chop him food, but like say na him I wan chop. E talk say fear catch am, na why e give me the food sharp-sharp.

E still dey yarn that gist anytime e wan shame me. Sometimes, he go mimic my hungry face, everybody go laugh. But true-true, that day, if to say he no give me food, I fit don faint for ground.