Chapter 15: The Evidence War

Reporters full everywhere.

One day, as I dey drive, journalist block my car, dey wave microphone. My face dey everywhere, even radio dey talk my matter.

Dem dey knock my car window, camera for my confused face.

I dey try cover my face, but dem no gree. People dey point phone, dey shout, "Na him! Na him!"

“This shop owner molest three-year-old pikin.”

I dey hear their whispers, some dey shout from across road, dey call me animal. Some dey snap picture, dey post online.

Media dey fire me with questions:

Dem surround me, dey ask like say I be criminal. My voice dey lost inside their noise.

“Explain the accusation say you molest three-year-old pikin for backyard?”

I dey sweat, my mouth dey dry. Na every corner dem dey ask, no give me chance to talk.

“You delete CCTV to hide crime? Na true?”

People dey look me with bad eye, even when I try talk, nobody dey listen. My voice low, their own loud.

“You get pikin too—how you fit do this kind thing?”

I dey try explain, but people dey shout me down. My wife dey cry for background.

“You no dey fear God for hurting small pikin?”

I look up, tears dey my eye. I beg God make truth come out. The world dey crash for my head.