Chapter 6: Scars and Stubbornness

As I come outside, I see Musa Danladi kneel shirtless for compound.

Ground dey rough, sun dey bake his back. Sweat mix with blood, stain sand. Some soldiers peep from barrack window, hush laugh, quick hide.

Years of war don give am scars everywhere—e even make am look strong.

Each mark tell story—sword cut, bullet graze, maybe even wild animal scratch. The kind scars wey dey draw line for destiny.

Blood still dey, maybe from today's flogging.

The whip marks fresh, small blood trickle, but him no dey shake.

Na sharp guy—use injury cover himself.

He balance pain with pride, no gree show weakness. Na true soldier style.

Now, even if I wan punish am more, my mind no dey strong reach.

E get as e be—person wey you flog finish, still dey kneel for sun, heart go soft small.

Lin Nwosu see as my anger still dey boil, so he shout at Musa Danladi:

His voice loud, cut through air like whistle. "You this stubborn boy! Grain Officer get good mind, she no go hold am for mind. Quick, apologize!"

Since I come out, Musa Danladi never raise head, just dey think.

His forehead dey touch sand, back no move. The silence stretch long, like evening shadow.

As Lin Nwosu talk, he slowly raise head.

Eyes bloodshot, but pride still dey inside. He wipe sweat, glance at me quick quick.

I no fit hold my mouth from twisting.

The urge to laugh nearly catch me, but I hold am. Royal face no dey smile anyhow.

Musa Danladi grow for border, never return capital; na my first time to see am.

Stories about am full everywhere—some say he fit fight two men, some say he chop bullet and still dey waka.

When I small, I see Musa family people—all of them fine.

People for palace talk say their skin fine like honey, eyes sharp like eagle.

Musa Danladi carry all their fine face join body.

He stand taller than most, cheekbones cut sharp, eyes brown like roasted groundnut.

Sun for border no fit black am, e just give am that brown colour, and the scars make am look more rugged.

Instead of beauty fade, e turn am to battle badge. Local girls dey gossip say, "Musa too fine for war."

But the finer he be, the more annoying his mouth be.

His words dey sting, like sand in shoe.

"Next time I go use more force, make Grain Officer sleep for more days."

He talk am with face straight, no fear. The insult sweet for his mouth like suya pepper.

Musa Danladi talk as if he dey pity me, flash me one kind wicked smile.

Smile wide, show white teeth—no single apology inside.

"You dey craze."

I snap, my hand tight for sword handle. This one dey find trouble.

As I talk, I grip my sword.

My fingers white, arm steady. Some soldiers behind fence snicker quietly.

Lin Nwosu sharp, use koboko flog Musa Danladi, dey curse am.

Whip loud, but Musa no flinch. Lin voice high, veins stand for neck: "Stubborn goat!"

E be like say whip dey pain am, but na just surface mark.

No be the first time Musa see koboko, I reason.

Me: "..."

But as I turn away, Musa Danladi's eyes catch mine—sharp, stubborn. This battle never finish.