Chapter 1: Blood on My Hands

I killed someone, but I can't remember where I hide the body.

Na wa for this kain wahala wey don jam me so. In this Lagos, e be like say anything fit happen to person.

Now, one kind book—Killer’s Diary—just land for my house from nowhere.

I swear, this kain thing fit make person fear, especially as e show for my domot like that. If person dey do juju for me, na now I go sabi.

The handwriting inside? E be my fiancée own.

Ifeoma handwriting dey unique—e get one curly tail for the 'y' wey I no fit ever forget. The shock catch me like dry pepper for eye.

But she disappear one week ago.

Since that day, my chest never rest. I dey check my phone every minute like mumu, dey call her people, even dey pray all those small prayer my mama teach me for childhood.

Maybe na hangover, but as I wake up for sofa, my head just dey pound anyhow.

My eye nearly commot for socket, the thing heavy like say all the world wahala dey inside my skull. E get as body dey after those kain cheap gin from mama Nkechi shop. Mosquitoes don even bite my leg join.

I raise hand rub my temples—na that time I realize say I dey hold dagger.

Omo, na so my hand begin shake. I just dey look am like say my village people dey do meeting for my front. The dagger get weight, e cold small for hand, blood don dry for blade. My mouth dry, I dey reason if na my blood. I rub my chest, dey pray make I no see any cut.

The blood for the blade don dry already. I no get any memory of wetin happen.

My heart beat dey loud for ear—gbim gbim gbim. How I go explain this kain thing? Na film I dey watch?

I check my shirt, see small bloodstain for front, but after searching well, I no see any wound for my body.

I carry the shirt, sniff am—blood smell dey strong. I check everywhere—my arms, my stomach, even my legs—nothing. Na who blood be this?

And last night, I no even drink for house.

I try remember—last I fit recall, I dey chop indomie for one bar with my guy, Chuka. But for my house? No single bottle dey table, no cup, nothing.

But see me here, sitting on my own sofa.

Sofa wey Ifeoma buy from Alaba last year. She like am because of the flower design. As I sit down, I fit feel her spirit dey look me somehow.

As for how I take come back, I no remember at all—just like I no sabi why this sharp knife dey my hand.

The kain forgetfulness wey hold me na real wahala. My mind blank like JAMB answer sheet.

As I dey try make sense of everything, na so I hear heavy knock for door. The thing clear my eye sharp-sharp.

The knock loud, like say person wan break door. My liver almost cut. For Lagos, you no dey open door anyhow, especially with the kain gbege wey I dey now.

Whoever dey outside, I no fit let dem see me like this at all.

I gently drop the knife, wipe sweat for face. My hand dey shake, but I just dey ginger myself say make I reason fast.

I rush remove my clothes, wrap the dagger inside, carry the bundle go hide am inside the storage cabinet for balcony. Then I just grab one dirty shirt from washing machine wear.

I for even clean the shirt small, but time no dey. I just jam the bundle for cabinet, cover am with empty rice sack, arrange container on top, sharp sharp wear shirt wey get engine oil stain. God abeg, cover my shame. Make nobody see this thing.

The knocking no gree stop. I stand for door, try balance my breathing, then open am small.

I peep first before I open. For this part of town, e better to sabi who dey outside before you allow wahala enter.

Na one woman stand outside—she look about thirty, slim, dey carry herself like person wey sabi work.

Her skin dark and smooth, she tie scarf well, her nails painted red. E clear say she no be anyhow person. She stand one kain way, like person wey dey do government work. Her perfume smell like Aboniki balm mix with powder, the kind wey dey choke small for bus.

"Good morning, I’m from BrightClean Services. You book today cleaning service." She wear small work badge for chest.

Her English dey sharp, her accent get small Igbo touch. Her badge shine under sun—she even smile small, but her eye dey busy.

"I no book anything. You dey for wrong house." I wan close the door, but she just put her hand block am.

She get small strength, her hand strong. Her eyes dey sharp—na the kind woman wey fit argue for BRT queue.

"Here’s your booking record. This no be my first time for here—how I go miss address?" She show me the booking page, and true-true, na my address dey there.

I look the phone well. Na Ifeoma name dey as last customer. My mind start to dey cut—na when she book this one?

If she don come before, na my babe, Ifeoma, book am that time.

I remember say Ifeoma dey like everywhere clean, especially when her mama dey visit. Maybe na her last plan before wedding.

"Today no good at all. Abeg, come back another day."

My voice low, I try reason with her, but the woman no dey look my face. Her jaw set like stubborn goat.

"Sorry, but if you wan change appointment, you suppose give one day notice. This week, my whole schedule full, I no fit reschedule."

She dey look me like say she dey pity me small, but business na business. Na the type wey go calculate every kobo.

I dey vex inside, but I try hide am.

I force small smile, my hand still dey door like say breeze fit blow am close any moment.

"Abeg, just cancel am. I no even want the deposit again." I dey pray make she no insist.

My voice dey shake—if not for this palava, I for just dash her the money go.

"Na your partner book am before, abi?" She just dey look me like say she sabi everything. "We dey collect full money before work. Two hours, twenty-five thousand naira, full-house deep cleaning."

She get confidence, na so she drop her bag for floor small. She dey look my eye, no blink.

"I no need am, abeg. Just pretend say you don clean—I no go complain." I cut her off, this time my voice strong small.

I dey try sound like person wey no get time for long talk, but the woman still stand her ground. For her mind, customer na customer.

"If you really no need cleaning," she come dey look worried, "our company talk say we must upload picture after every job. At least make I just enter snap some pictures?"

Her eyebrow raise, she dey reason say maybe na security wahala dey worry me. She dey do her work by the book, and I no fit blame her.

Normally, I for just allow her enter. But my mind dey on top that bloody knife. If any other wahala dey house and she see am, wahala go burst.

My heart dey race, I dey calculate how I go explain if she see anything. For this life, na who waka jeje dey sleep well.

"Last warning: I no need am. If you still dey disturb me, I go—" I just swallow the rest.

My tongue heavy, I no wan curse person for morning. But she sabi say tension dey, so she just carry herself commot small.

The more you talk, the more you fit enter trouble. I no even give her chance talk again, I just lock door sharp-sharp.

I bolt am double, then press ear to hear whether she still dey outside. Na so Lagos dey—you fit offend cleaner, tomorrow police fit show.

As I waka enter parlour, I just feel say something no pure.

Na that kain chill wey enter room before rain fall. My body dey scratch me—something just dey off.

Was the balcony window open just now?

I pause, try remember. I never open am since two days. If breeze dey blow curtain, na another person do am.

As I remember, the cleaning lady dey always look inside. I think say na to check whether Ifeoma dey house.

I remember the last time she come, Ifeoma dey cook jollof. She like make everywhere dey neat before guests enter.

When we buy this house, na because Ifeoma like the small yard, we choose ground floor. To get better view, we change the balcony door to floor-to-ceiling window, add sliding door for side.

Na her dream, to get garden wey she go dey plant ugu. She say e go sweet for pikin dem to dey play outside one day.

Na so cold sweat catch me. I hesitate, then waka go the storage cabinet.

My leg dey shake, but I dey tell myself say na just stress. I open cabinet small-small, dey pray make nobody dey watch me from window.

The clothes wey I just remove—the ones wey I take wrap the knife—dem don disappear.

Na so my leg weak. If person dey watch me, e mean my wahala just dey start.

I freeze. My hand begin dey cold. I look inside again, move container, shift bag—nothing. My brain start dey run wild: who enter here?

Everything just change like film. I dey wonder whether na dream I dey.

I slap myself small. E no be dream. This na real life. My heart dey pound like generator for night.

Before I fit even arrange my thoughts, knock land for door again—wrong timing.

The knock loud, this time e get urgency. Wetin be all this?

"Why you dey come back—" I start, but stop as I see say no be the cleaning lady.

I peep—na Obinna, Ifeoma brother. E still dey wear that him blue Chelsea jersey wey don fade.

"Oh, na you, Obinna." I breathe small relief, but my body still dey tight.

I drop shoulder, try smile, but e no reach my eye. My mind still dey where I hide knife wey don vanish.

I fit send the cleaning lady away, but I no get reason to block Obinna.

If na Ifeoma own family, you no fit dey form busy. E go look suspicious.

But Obinna no even wan enter. Instead, he just use hand signal make I follow am.

E bend finger in that sharp Igbo way, mouth tight like person wey dey chew bitterleaf. My heart dey skip.

"Dem get news about Ifeoma. Follow me."

His voice low, like say e no wan make neighbor hear. I grab key, carry phone, lock door, follow am. For this kain news, you no dey waste time.