Chapter 1: My Wahala, My Rules

For this Lagos, if pride dey market, na me get the whole shop. My wahala, my rules. If dem dey count money for this city, na my name dem dey call first—no contest. My mouth fit cut ogbono, my skin dey glow like say I bath inside shea butter. Even for my own house, na me dey give order, everybody dey waka on tiptoe. My papa na big man, my mama sef get shares for bank.

As I dey yarn so, my phone dey vibrate steady—alerts from my latest business just dey drop. My driver dey wait outside, AC full blast, in case I wan commot last minute. Na so my day dey always busy.

Nobody fit look me anyhow for this Lagos. You know those kin girls wey fit use eye talk? Na me. If you see as I dey enter place, people dey adjust.

When my broke fiancé show for my door, na the steward’s daughter dey push me make I break the engagement.

The day sef, na that Morenikeji, steward pikin, come dey whisper for my ear, dey do like say she dey pity me, but I sabi her mind. She dey squeeze her wrapper, eye dey dodge my own, like say if she look me too long, thunder go strike. She dey jealous me small small, but dey hide am. As she dey talk, she dey bend, dey squeeze her hand together, dey wait for my answer like say na her life dey depend on am.

I been just dey reason am, ready to agree, when suddenly plenty comments just appear for my front:

[LOL, the main babe dey plan well—she dey trick the young lady to break the engagement, but na she go help the guy for back, because she sabi say he go become the richest man for the world.]

[The guy value loyalty and true love pass anything. Out of gratitude, he marry the main babe, make her one of the most respected women for the world.]

[But the young lady go end up broke, forced to sell herself to pay debt, and last last, she go die for nothing.]

My skin prick like mosquito bite—who dey talk for my head? I shock, then vex.

The kin way my mouth open that time ehn! Who be all these people dey judge me from inside thin air? Na so I vex reach my bone. Wetin be all this wahala? As I stand gidigba for my marble floor, heart dey beat fast like generator, I swear for myself say nobody go fit use my head. Outside, rain dey threaten, but inside my house, na only AC dey blow wahala. My shine no be for play. E shock me, but anger dey burn pass fear. As I hear Morenikeji dey yan dust, I bone face—no time for yeye talk.

Nobody go collect my chance to become as rich as country!

For my mind, I dey see myself for front page of newspaper, big headline—'Amaka Okezie, First Woman To Buy Three Mansions For Banana Island!' I fit already hear my aunties for WhatsApp dey hail me—Amaka, you too much! Banana Island na your backyard. E pain me pass say person fit dey plan behind my back. My chance? Tufiakwa!

So, as the steward’s daughter dey look me with bad eye, I sharply call the guy wey dey waka go, and talk:

"I fit allow you stay with me—but you must swear say you go loyal to me for life!"

Nobody go use my head chop life. I swear for myself.