Chapter 3: Evidence of Evil

Silence fit loud pass shout for Lagos. The fear dey make him sweat even as morning breeze dey blow. I just dey look am, like say I dey weigh his life for my mind.

As I scroll, one video dey show my wife, hand tied. My hand begin shake again. The shame and anger mix for my chest. I dey hold tears, but my eyes dey red.

Na her face pain me pass. No strength, no life for her eye. Just one look, you go know say she don give up hope. I dey imagine wetin she dey think that moment.

The video dey show men dey shout like mad people, dey pour beer on my wife. Their faces no even show remorse. Na so dem dey disgrace person pikin like say na goat for slaughter.

As I hear those words, my blood dey boil. Na pure wickedness. For Lagos, once person get this kind video, dem fit use am blackmail forever. I dey imagine the shame if the thing leak online. My wife no fit survive that kain disgrace.

Tears dey my eye, but I swallow am. No time for cry, na action time. The pain for my heart, e dey burn like pepper for eye.

My hand dey shake, but I force myself watch—tears dey fall for my face, but I no blink. Na my wife, my own, and dem use her like plaything.

Na that moment, the man fear catch am fully. My voice cold, but the truth dey sharp. Ifeoma name na thunder for his ear.

You go know say wahala don finally land for him head. He dey beg like pikin wey chop another person meat for pot. Fear dey inside every word.

Chai! See as dem dey use money clean mess for Lagos. My wife life no be Naira note.

I just hiss, clap my hands near the mic. The needle shoot up again, enter Mr. Sani chin deep.

He shout in pain, but the more he scream, the more the needle enter. The guy get mind sha, he hold himself, sweat dey pour for his body.

This one na punishment. Each clap na memory for my wife pain. The more he try to struggle, the more needle do its work. For Lagos, na so e dey be—no rest for wicked.

We dey move sharp, no waste time. Musa dey pack things like person wey dey do construction. I dey watch road, dey make sure nobody dey come.

Na Lagos breeze dey blow scatter. The edge high pass anything. I dey see traffic for ground—keke, danfo, people dey hustle. Mr. Sani leg dey shake. I dey wonder how man wey dey form boss dey beg like this.

I no blame am. Even strong man go fear this kain height. The smell dey strong. He dey cry like baby, snot dey run for nose. For my mind, I dey remember my wife face.

Musa get mind. Even me sef, I dey fear small for wetin we dey do. But Musa eyes no dey shake, like person wey don give up on the world.

Na so I pick stone, balance am for hand, gree say na only justice I dey find. As the stone land, sound like coconut wey break. No pity for my heart.

The sight na movie. The rope dey grind for blade edge, wind dey push the body. For Lagos, people dey look up if dem hear sound, but I no care.

Gravity no dey waste time. Once rope cut, story finish. Na so life be. One moment you dey on top, next moment na ground you dey.

Scream begin fly for window. People dey shout, security dey run. I dey hear commotion. But me and Musa no dey rush, we dey move like people wey dey late for bus.

We dey inside lift, nobody dey with us. As glass dey show city outside, I dey see reflection of myself—my eyes red, my shirt wet. Musa dey beside me, calm.

The shadow pass fast—body dey fall. The scream start for ground floor. My heart no even jump. For this kind day, conscience don tire.

We blend into crowd, like water for gutter. Nobody know wetin we do. Lagos be like that—crowd dey hide story.

People for street begin shout, "Jesus! Wetin happen?" Some dey run, some dey video with phone.