Chapter 5: Lonely Men and New Brothers

When the blacksmith hear say I collect the sword without drawing my blade, e shock.

E mouth open like generator wey just start. Him apprentice dey whisper for corner.

But I just smile, show am my back, continue my journey to collect the second weapon.

As I waka go, I hear children dey play, dey shout my name. For street, if you do good, rumor go spread quick.

Second weapon na iron staff. Baba Musa, the current boss of Baoshi Compound.

Dem dey fear am like thunder. For Jos, na him name dey end quarrel—"No call Baba Musa!" Na so the story dey go.

Few years ago, to become boss, he kill him papa. Him mama no fit bear am, she kill herself. For blacksmith eye, this one na unfilial.

People dey use the story warn pikin—"If you no gree, na Baba Musa go catch you." E strong.

I carry palm wine, stand for outside stone compound, tell the guard to call boss.

The compound gate high, stone fence, guards dey everywhere. Mosquito dey fly, but nobody dey shake. Na serious place.

Before the guard waka, the stone gate rise, big dark-skinned man waka out. I hear the guard greet am, "Oga."

The way Baba Musa waka, the ground dey shake. E tall, wide, him eye sharp. Staff for hand, as if e dey ready for war.

"You dey stay for compound everyday, how you take black like this?" I look Baba Musa, wonder.

I talk am like joke, but I dey check if him get temper.

"Who you be? Wetin you dey find?" Baba Musa eye cold, voice hard.

He voice na thunder, face no get smile. For Jos, na only rain fit break this kind face.

"I come make you drink." I lift my palm wine.

I dey lift am with two hands, like say na peace offering.

Baba Musa pause, him face soft small.

The small soft be like say rain touch dry ground. Na hope.

"…You no be my padi or my brother. Why you wan make I drink?"

He ask am, voice soft but eye dey calculate.

"If you wan, I fit be your padi or brother anytime." I smile.

I drop small wink, to break him guard. For Naija, na padi dey help padi.

"…You wan be my friend? You no dey fear me? Everybody dey talk say I kill my papa, make my mama die. Say I no get respect."

Pain flash for Baba Musa eye.

He try hide am, but e show. I dey see small boy behind big man.

I smile more.

I do small nod, as if na family we dey.

"I be just twenty-six. I no old reach to be your papa."

I reason am. If I show say I young, maybe e go relax.

"…True, you no old reach."

He dey reason am. I see smile try show for him face.

"So, I no be the unfilial one. Why I go fear you?" I laugh, push palm wine for him hand.

I push am like say na food for pikin. If he gree drink, wahala fit reduce.

Inside the compound, me and Baba Musa sit, dey drink.

The chairs na old cane, the table na iron. Sun dey hot but palm wine cold. Small birds dey sing for fence.

"How the palm wine?" I ask.

I dey reason am like padi. For this Naija, na food and drink dey start friendship.

"E sweet."

He drink am full, voice soft small. E mean say wall don fall.

"I know say you get another sweet thing."

I talk am with smile, eye dey the staff.

I look the iron staff beside am.

The staff long, old, mark full body. Na weapon wey dem pass down from papa to pikin.

Baba Musa eye cold instantly. "Na the staff you dey find too?"

He hold staff, eye me. E ready for fight, but no rush.

"I know say people no dey come compound anyhow, and the ones wey come wan collect your staff." I sip palm wine, talk calm.

I talk am with street wisdom. If you show fear, you go lose.

"So wetin make you different from them?" Baba Musa veins show, cup almost break for hand.

His hand dey shake, voice low. For street, na only real men dey ask this question.

"For the streets, e better to get more friends than enemies." I smile, no stress. "Dem see you as enemy, but me I wan be your friend."

I raise cup, as if toast dey ground.

I lift my cup, touch am with his.

I let the sound ring. For compound, na sign of peace.

Baba Musa shock. The vex disappear from him face.

He no expect am. For him world, friends na like rain for dry season.

"You no dey lie me? Nobody for street wan be my friend."

He voice low, almost whisper.

"Na true. Since we don drink, from today, you—Baba Musa—na my padi, Timi Ayoola padi." I laugh, finish my palm wine.

I raise my cup, show teeth. E mean say we don seal am.