Chapter 1: Rumours and Returns

In my final year of secondary school, I changed schools. After I left, my classmates started to carry one kind rumour, say I run because I get leukemia.

As if dem no get better thing to talk, wahala people just dey carry gist up and down, like market women after NEPA don take light—noise just scatter, everybody dey find torch or gist. Nobody even bother to call me to confirm. Na so rumour dey fly, my wahala just dey increase for outside, even though I no dey there again.

Not long after, that stubborn boy who always sit for back of class just come quiet all of a sudden. He drop all him wahala ways, begin read like say book na food, and before anybody know, he land admission for the best music academy wey dey Naija.

People for area begin wonder, dey ask which kind juju or church hand touch am, because this one wey Yanshu Musa, the stubborn goat, come dey gentle like water, na miracle. Even teachers shock, begin dey pray make all stubborn pikin for their class get that kind transformation.

Nine years pass, na so the boy blow—him songs full everywhere, everybody sabi am.

You no fit enter any bus, okada, or even bar for Lagos or Abuja without hearing his song dey blast. Mama put joint, even Keke Marwa dey jam his music. Small pikin wey dey hawk groundnut go dey sing his chorus. Everybody, from grandmama to yahoo boy, sabi the name Yanshu Musa.

One day during a livestream, dem ask am about love life, him face just change—like say sorrow dey press am from inside.

For internet, all the big slay queens dey drop love eyes for his page. But as dem drop that question, 'Old Musa' face just shift, like say spirit don brush am for inside. Social media people dey screen record sharp-sharp, dey wait for any gbese.

"She no dey here again."

Everywhere just silent. E be like even air for studio pause.

"If I know, I for no wish make she remain eighteen forever."

As he talk am, you go see say e pain am well. No be just talk—na for chest e dey. Even fans wey get strong head come dey emotional for comments. Crying emoji just dey drop everywhere.

Me, I dey wear mask, hold camera, just dey waka pass when my lens catch his phone lock screen—and I freeze.

That moment, my hand just stiff. My mind blank. Camera nearly fall from my hand, na God save me. E be like film trick.

Ah.

Na... me be that?

No be say I dey craze o, but my heart miss beat. Na my own face I see there, blurred but sure, my old mole and all. Wetin Musa dey do with my picture as lock screen?