Chapter 7: Harmattan Shadows

Before, I dey think say to find envelope wey pass twenty years no too hard.

I think say, with small question, I fit trace who send am. But our town no dey easy like before—people dey mind their business.

But as I see the handwriting don fade, and with my police experience, I know say dem write am long time ago—maybe as old as the envelope.

I rub my thumb for the ink—e don turn brown, not black. This one no be biro wey just dry last week.

E mean say, na over twenty years ago dem write this thing.

For my mind, na only person wey get deep pain fit write that kain message, keep am for years.

Who wan tell me the real truth that time, more than twenty years back?

I try remember people wey fit hold grudge that long. My mind dey jump from one name to another, but no answer.

Wetin dem want make I see?

Sometimes, when town dey quiet like this, na spirit dey talk. Or na human being with heavy secret.

Musa die for 1999, and him only family—Mama Musa—suppose don die too by now.

Nobody ever see her again after Musa case. Some say she run go stay with relation for Suleja. Others say she join her pikin for ground.

If e get secret for this case, I no fit just sit down, I must find who drop this envelope.

I wear sweater, pocket torchlight. Old habit die hard. Even for night, I dey move like police.

I carry torch, comot house, open gate, waka go where I see the letter, dey hope say I go see clue.

The sand for ground dey cold. As I waka, dogs begin bark far away. I lower my torch, make people no notice.

That time, harmattan breeze just blow pass the alley. I look up by reflex.

The breeze dey carry leaf, make dust dey rise. E remind me of when we dey small, dey play football for dry season.

For under streetlight far small, I see one woman wey wear white dey stand.

She no move, just dey look my direction. The white cloth dey shine for dark like egret feather.

And her face—na only for photo I see am before, more than twenty years ago.

My heart skip. My chest dey drum, I whisper, "Ngozi?" But mouth no gree make sound. God, cover me with your blood. Leg dey shake.