Chapter 1: Midnight Wahala

At exactly 2 a.m., Class prefect Musa drop message for group about the 800-meter fitness test.

As soon as that WhatsApp notification kpim pierce the quiet hostel room, my body just jump small. That kind kpim wey go make your heart skip, especially for that awkward hour when dem say spirit dey waka. You know how Naija hostel dey be—every little noise dey echo, mosquito dey buzz for ear, beds creak as people turn for sleep. But this time, na my phone light flash, and the wahala na ordinary test. Still, my mind no rest. For Naija, when person send you message for night, e get as e be.

"The student whose number ends with 0089 must show up for the physical test on time. If you miss am, na your wahala—dem go mark you absent sharp sharp."

Class prefect Musa no dey ever mince words. The way e drop am—no room for negotiation. Even the grammar sef, e dey carry that undertone wey go make your body dey hot. Inside my mind, I just dey calculate: wetin be all this sudden responsibility wey dem wan drop for my head? This kain thing dey always land person for wahala.

Just like that, sleep clear from my eyes. Only yesterday, na my roommate wey dey class committee dem pick for this wahala.

E shock me. For hostel, na we dey gist how Kamsi draw short straw for this same test. I even still dey tease her, say make she no go fall yakata for field. Now, e be like say dem don pass the baton to me. Na only for Naija you go dey sleep, dem go wake you with problem wey no be your own. Sleep just vanish, as if NEPA off am for my body.

How come it’s suddenly my matric number today?

I just dey look my phone, dey ask myself if village people dey use my destiny play ball this semester. Abi na them dey remote my number for committee list? I even dey reason maybe na network wahala or dem type wrong number. E no surprise me if dem just dey change am to suit themselves. I wan vex, but body no gree. My mind dey race—wetin I go do now?

I tell the class prefect, abeg, I just come back from hospital. There’s no way I fit run 800 meters.

You know say for Naija, if you wan dodge work, you go need better story. But this one no be story o—I just survive operation. So I tell am straight: “Bros, abeg, I just return from hospital. Even to climb staircase dey pain me. 800 meters na far journey for me now.” My voice for chat sef weak, I just dey hope say e go gree.

But the guy no gree. He just assume say I dey try dodge:

As expected, Musa reply me like say I dey yarn dust. Na so he dey do—if you like dey die, e go believe say you wan run away from responsibility. For his mind, everybody na sharp guy. I fit almost see the kain face wey he dey make for hostel—eyebrow raised, lips tight. E dey like wahala dey sweet am.

"Well, you’re the one selected. If you no show, be ready to be marked absent and face disciplinary wahala."

Omo, e be like say the guy don dey wait to catch person for trap. As he drop that message, e be like warning bell ring for my head. In fact, e even add plenty exclamation mark, just to show say e serious die. As for me, my blood cold. All these people wey dey carry class matter for head, I tire for them.

So, the day of the physical test, I just collapse for ground, foam dey my mouth.

If to say I be comedian, this for make sense. But na real life—I dey picture myself run, body no fit carry me. I imagine as I go collapse for field, dey foam for mouth, people dey shout, “Hey God o! Somebody help am!” One girl go faint from fear, boys go dey shout, “No be juju be that?” You know as Naija people dey react for emergency—plenty panic, everybody go gather dey look, one or two fit dey record with phone.

Right there in front of the school principal and local government education officer—with one loud gbam.

Omo! The principal dey wear that khaki trouser wey no ever fit, face like thunder, and the local government education officer wey like to dey form big man, dem go just open mouth. The gbam for ground go loud pass church bell. Na the kain moment wey go make people forget say dem dey do test—everybody go dey shout, “Blood of Jesus!” Some go dey pray, others go dey point finger, dey look for who cause am. For Naija, once wahala happen, everybody go turn judge.

Next day, class prefect, principal, even the education board oga, all dey run up and down like say dem wan carry fire.

Na so e dey be—trouble dey land, everybody go dey pretend say dem dey help. Dem go dey run round, dey try fix wetin dem fit, before matter reach social media or parent group chat. Even people wey no care before go suddenly dey greet you, dey form concern. For my mind, I dey laugh: make dem feel the heat. All this pressure for 800-meter test—na so e go reach?