Chapter 3: ICU, Prayers, and Pride
One year ago, Bayo nearly die, sickness wan carry am. Na me charter private jet fly am go abroad for treatment.
The matter serious reach hospital management. My papa sef reason am, say, "Tunde, na good thing you do." But I no send—na because of Morayo I run am.
The guy suppose don kpai, make I talk true, I for even happy small.
But God no gree. I no go lie, e pain me small, but I cover face with smile. Na human being, no be say I wish am bad, but you know as e dey be when your rival dey strong.
But Morayo cry sotay her face swell, eyes red, she no even dey see road:
“Bayo, na you carry me comot for river that time. You talk say make I live well to pay you back. Abeg, you no fit leave me alone.”
As she dey talk am, na so water dey flow from her eye. Even the nurses dey pity her. That girl love reach bone.
Since dem carry am enter ICU, Morayo kneel by Bayo bed, dey pray, dey beg God with all her chest. Three days and three nights, no sleep.
People dey talk say na juju she use, but I know say na pure heart. Even my steward dey tell me, "Oga, this kind love na rare thing o."
I fear say she go follow am die o. If she kpai, that one mean say my target don go, and system go wipe me join.
Even if she survive, as Bayo don become her unreachable white moonlight, e go hard reach 99%.
The kain gist wey dey go round be say, every girl get that person wey if e look her, her leg go dey shake. For Morayo, na Bayo.
My mission go turn wahala.
So I just wave hand: “Abeg, make sure the guy dey alright.”
I drop money, call doctor, tell dem make dem no slack. Even extra nurse dey for him room. Anything wey go make am survive, I run am.
But instead make she thank me, she just bone more:
“To save am na your choice. If you wan use am take threaten me, forget am.”
I wan talk, but her eye no even blink. Na as if I dey invisible. Pain catch me.
Me sef no get that kind mind—system only dey count sincerity.
If no be say system dey judge me, I for don quit since. But mission na mission.
So I gree compete with Bayo, man to man.
I roll up sleeve, tell myself, "Tunde, you no go lose for woman matter." Na pride dey ginger me.
Why I, rich boy, no fit win childhood friend?
I dey ask myself every night, dey check my account balance, dey wonder why love dey hard pass money.
Until I see that picture—two of them dey smile, dey hold hand.
That day, na like say ground wan swallow me. Jealousy dey burn my chest. My phone almost fall from my hand.
My mind scatter, anger just dey boil. I tell my guy: “Abeg, no send me again. I rather die than dey disgrace myself for this babe.”
My guy just laugh, reply with voice note: "Omo, you don try o. Na to move on remain." He drop dog emoji. E pain me.
He reply sharp sharp: “You talk well. I no see anything. (dog emoji)”
...
I waka enter bar, sit down.
Bar dey dark, reggae music low for background. Bartender sabi me, e just drop cold bottle for my front, no ask questions.
The more I drink, the more vex catch me; the more vex, the more I drink.
Even the pepper soup no get taste for my mouth. My eye dey red, my mind dey run marathon.
At last, na only Morayo face dey my head.
Every song wey play, na her shadow I dey see. My head dey ring like generator.
Her soft lips, her cold fine face, her slim body—everywhere dey set.
For this Lagos, you no go see better babe pass Morayo. Na girl wey dey make men pause for road.
God know, the first time I see her, my heart jump like say I thief.
Even my guy dey ask me that day, "Tunde, wetin do you? You dey sweat for harmattan?"
The colder she be, the more I wan near her.
Some say na pride, some say na challenge, but I know say na true wahala I enter.
If to say her name no be my target, I for thank God.
My life for dey easier. But e be like say I get destiny for stress.
But na so e be.
Drunk, head dey spin, I summon Naija System, pour all my pain give am.
I close my eye, talk to air. If dem see me, dem go think say I dey craze. But na only me know wetin dey my mind.
Last last, I threaten am: “If I no fit finish this mission, you sef go suffer, abi?”
Na drunk boldness dey worry me. If Naija System get face, I for box am.
“Make dem cut your bonus? Or scrap you start afresh?”
“I no send again.”
“If na fifty years I go lose, make I lose am.”
“Na no be say I no get am to lose.”
I spread hand, close eye, dey wait for sleep to carry me. If death come, make e come.
Who know, as I wan pass out for sofa, I hear Naija System voice:
[Host’s anger value don reach maximum. Automatic target switch in progress.]
I shiver, open eye small. For my mind, I dey pray say make this punishment no be mad one.
Na so my heart don break sotay, if you use am cook beans, e go still strong.