Chapter 6: Pepper Soup Revelation

After work, Tunde call me go chop goat meat pepper soup. “We don try, make we flex small.”

We dey our usual spot, Oga Bamidele bar. Rain dey fall small, generator dey hum, and one man dey argue about Super Eagles for next table. For table, bottle of Malt and two plates of pepper soup dey ready.

I dey look the hot steam, dey reason.

As I dey smell the pepper, memories of the case just dey play for my head. Sometimes police work no dey let person chop well.

“Old Tunde, something dey off for this case.”

Tunde wave hand. “Old Seyi, I know wetin you dey think. We suspect say Musa get partner or dem frame am, but he no talk, and we don check everybody wey know am—nothing. We dey solve case with evidence. For this point, na wetin we fit do be this.”

He sip small Orijin, shake head. "Abeg, Seyi, free your mind. Wahala no dey finish."

“Abeg, you no dey chop shaki, so this goat meat na your own. Give me your shaki. You sure you no wan try am? E sweet.”

He dey laugh, dey drag shaki with spoon. For Naija, food dey settle mind, even after wahala.

Shaki, goat meat. Shaki, goat meat.

My mind wander as I dey look the meat for plate. Suddenly, one kain cold run my body—na so my skin stand like person wey NEPA shock. Wetin if this case get twist we never see?

One cold just run my body reach my head. Suddenly, I see how all the confusion fit connect.

My eye open, I drop spoon. Tunde dey look me, say, "Wetin dey worry you now?"

The killer na Musa, but still no be Musa.

My mind dey race. Wetin if na swap?

I drag Tunde commot for restaurant. He shout, “Old Seyi, you dey craze? Even police no suppose run bill! My shaki!”

I no even look back. Tunde dey complain, but I know say I don catch something.