Chapter 7:

As I dey wonder how to play the game, noise just burst for my ear.

Fan dey blow hot air, generator dey hum for backyard, and the smell of old indomie mix with cheap perfume. E be like generator start for my parlour. Boys dey shout, 'Sharp guy! Move jare!' My head spin. I hear person dey order, 'Manager, abeg bring one bucket of indomie!'

Keyboard dey jam, small boys dey shout anyhow.

The kind noise wey burst, e be like primary school break time. I dey cover ear, dey look round, dey wonder who on loudspeaker for my house.

“The wahala shock me.

I no fit even talk. My heart dey beat like talking drum. I dey try find remote, but everywhere don change.

My house dey always quiet—when e take turn to market?

I dey ask, 'Abi I dey dream?' This no be my house again.

But as I raise head from computer, my eyes nearly fall.

Everywhere different. Old paint for wall, 'No Smoking' sign for corner, old fan dey whine. I dey see rows of computers, boys dey hook headphone, dey shout.

Na cybercafé I dey.

Na the same one Ifedike dey go. The smell of fried noodles, sweat, dust, even that small mosquito buzz—all land my nose at once.

I rub my eyes, no believe.

I close open eye, dey try adjust. But nothing change.

The people wey sit down my left and right, na my son padi them—those same boys from five years ago.

Ojo, the one wey always wear Arsenal jersey. Chimdi, the sharp mouth boy. All of them dey gawk at me, mouths open.

Dem never change at all.

No beard, no muscle. Still small boys, na the same face. Time freeze for them.

By now, dem suppose don write exam, go university, don grow.

But nothing like that. I dey see them like old photograph.

But na the same boys I see—nothing change.

Na shock hold my tongue. I dey check if na picture, but dem dey move, dey laugh.

I shock.

I fit feel sweat dey drip for my back. The place too real.

Dem sef dey look me like say I craze.

One boy dey whisper, 'This uncle na ghost?' I dey shake, dey sweat.

After silence, one boy smile awkward. “Uncle, why you dey sit down for Ifedike seat dey play game?”

Him eyebrow raise, him mouth twist. E dey look me like say I steal something.

Ifedike—na my son name be that.

I freeze. The name hit me like thunder. My mouth dey open, no word dey come out.