Chapter 1: Harmattan Truths and Fingerprints

The council office air dey heavy with sweat and biro ink, harmattan dust dey settle for every corner. Just after New Year, one married couple enter to renew their ID card. As I enter the husband’s fingerprint, the system suddenly raise alarm.

You know that feeling when harmattan just pack breeze enter office, make your eyes dey red? Na so my skin prickled as the machine buzz. For Nigeria, this kind palava fit make person heartbeat miss one step, especially when e concern government wahala.

The machine show say this man fingerprint match print from old case—a case wey don cold reach twenty-two years.

For my mind, the weight of the years press my chest. For our work, na rare for old case just waka come front like this, especially one stubborn reach twenty-two years. Na only God hand fit twist time like that.

That case na family massacre: four people, nobody survive.

As I remember the case, my mind flash the kind horror wey dey rare for our side—four souls snatched one night, nobody left to cry or shout justice. Everybody for that village, up till now, dey use that story scare small children.

The crime scene dey almost a thousand miles from here.

If you check map, e be like say the dead waka from north reach south. Na big journey, the kind wey person dey do only for Christmas or burial.

The main suspect that time na the son-in-law wey marry enter the family. After the killings, the guy just disappear, nobody see am again.

For our culture, person wey marry enter house suppose be blessing. But that year, na wahala follow the Okoye family as their new in-law waka enter bush, carry everybody life join road.

Since then, the case just dey gather dust.

For police station, that file just dey wait, old as village chief cap, every December wey we dey clear old matter, e still dey.

As e come be, the man wey dey stand for my front now, na still son-in-law wey marry enter him wife family.

Na so I take dey look the man well, from head reach toe. Something for my body dey pinch me, say maybe na coincidence. But na Nigeria we dey, nothing dey ever truly be coincidence.

But him and him wife swear say dem never even near that crime scene before. Dem insist say dem be each other’s first love, first marriage. Besides, twenty-two years ago, the man say him still be small pikin—about ten years old—so how e for take do that kind wicked thing, talk less of marriage?

As dem dey talk, dem voice dey tremble small, but the eyes clear. For this our side, when matter serious like this, even lie dey fear to show face.

Abi na our national ID system get wahala?

For Nigeria, e no hard to blame computer or NEPA when wahala burst. I even begin tap the system like say na devil dey inside am.

But as we dig deeper, we come see say the problem no be from our system at all, but na the suspect’s own memory dey do strong head.

Na so e be for this country—sometimes, na person mind dey deceive am pass any government wahala. The more we check, the more e be like say memory na real ghost.