Chapter 1: The Chilling Status

I nearly drop my phone when I see am—WhatsApp status, black background, one white candle, my own face, and those three chilling words: Rest in peace.

Darkness outside choke, like black soup. From far outside, I hear night guard whistle two times, then silence—like even him dey fear. I no even fit see compound light from my window. Generator dey hum for far corner, but e no fit drive away this kind fear. My hand dey shake as I dey scroll, that sharp palm oil stew scent from my late dinner still dey for air, but my belly don lock up.

The caption just dey there: "Rest in peace."

That small sentence heavy for my chest, like old Igbo proverb: 'Death na visitor, but e no dey knock.' The words just hang, like bad news wey dey hover for market square.

And for the middle of church hall, for the black-and-white photo—na me dey there.

As I see my own face among wreaths and flickering candle, lips tight, my spirit just shiver. For background, them old wooden pews for St. Michael’s parish look cold, distant. Even the pastor robe sharp, but my own image, centre of frame, na goosebumps dey run my scalp. For the first time, I fit talk say I see my own funeral before time reach.

Underneath, the posting time show—three days from now.

Air just heavy, like say harmattan dust blow enter my room. My chest dey squeeze. Who go post person funeral before the thing even happen?

I cross myself sharp sharp, whisper small prayer—God abeg, cover me.

From nowhere, Naija News alert pop up for top of my screen:

"Murder don happen for Palm Grove Estate, Makurdi. Dem stab the victim more than ten times, she die for the scene."

My chest seize, heart dey drum. Palm Grove Estate—na here I dey live. Wind outside shift my curtain, like breeze dey vex. My mind dey race. Who for estate dem dey talk about? Or na me?

I sharply click read full gist:

"Victim: Female, 26 years old. Dem find her body by 9:00 a.m. on October 20. Na her boyfriend report am, say when he come back late, he no fit open lock. Next day, as he carry locksmith come open door, na so he see the victim for ground.

Police talk say the time wey she die na around 2:00 a.m. on October 20.

Dem suspect say this case get strong connection with the recent serial killings for the city, and e be like na the same person do am."

My hand dey shake, I dey try remember if I lock door tonight. The more I read, the more fear dey catch me, because the time wey dem talk for the news na just ten minutes from now.

Goosebumps full my body, I hold my wrapper tight. The room suddenly cold. My mind dey flash neighbours face—Mama Nkechi for flat two, that corper boy wey dey always press phone for corridor—anybody fit be next headline. But the details too match my own.

The time wey I see for my phone na 1:50 a.m. on October 20.

How news go report something wey never even happen? Abi na village people dey play with my head?

Silence thick, only wall clock dey tick. Neighbours wey dey noisy before, now quiet—like whole estate dey wait for something.