My Boss Used Me To Destroy Love / Chapter 2: Ifedayo Dey Use Us Shine
My Boss Used Me To Destroy Love

My Boss Used Me To Destroy Love

Author: Holly Harris


Chapter 2: Ifedayo Dey Use Us Shine

Me, I no touch anybody that day. I just stand behind Ifedayo like mumu, dey watch as Musa and the others beat the poor old man.

My hand dey for pocket, but my mind dey far. Na so I dey reason say if I join, wetin I gain? Nothing go ever wash the blood comot for my hand. I just dey pray make God protect the old man, because if e die, na another wahala go start.

No be say dem no get parents? How dem fit do this kind thing to person wey no offend dem?

I dey wonder if dem mama dey house dey pray for dem, or if papa dey work for factory, dey sweat to put food for table. E no reach like this na. Poverty fit twist person mind, but why we no dey fear God again?

Ifedayo just look me, small wicked smile for e mouth, but e no force me join. E just sip the cheap malt wey dey table.

As e sip, e lick lips slow. The malt no cold, but Ifedayo dey act like say na champagne. E eye just dey sharp, like cat wey dey wait for mouse. For my mind, I dey beg make e no ever remember my own family for e wicked games.

Next day, everywhere burst—news dey everywhere say rich man pikin beat old man for street. Ifedayo even do press conference, stand for front camera and mic, dey form say e dey vex.

Channels TV, TVC, all of dem dey carry am. Even radio dey talk. Ifedayo stand for conference hall, suit fine like politician, dey shake head, dey use all the big grammar wey e sabi. Social media dey scatter, #JusticeForBabaSeyi dey trend for Twitter.

“First, I wan apologize to that poor sweeper. I promise, apart from paying all e hospital bill, our company go give am twenty million naira for the pain. Second, I wan beg the public. Na our company management fail. Na our staff beat am. I dey there, I try stop them, but dem no gree hear me.” (As e dey talk, Ifedayo remove jacket, show camera bruises for e body—na just makeup.) “I shame say our company enter this kind wahala. I dey sack those six staff and our HR manager. I still dey beg everybody for society make una dey care for old people. Ifedayo Group go soon open charity for elderly people, build health centre and hospital for community...”

Everybody dey nod, dey clap. Some journalists even begin dey hail am, "Young philanthropist!" Social media dey buzz, some people dey argue, "E good say e apologize." But for back, people dey murmur, "Na wash, abeg. E dey use us shine."

After e finish, people clap for am like say na hero.

For hall, camera light dey shine for e face. One woman for back dey cry, "God go bless this boy!" Na so dem dey hail rich man for Naija, even when everybody know say the whole thing na acting.

Just like that, e use the wahala take boost company image. Ifedayo Group stock price even rise for one week.

The stock price climb like okada wey dey dodge pothole. Shareholders dey pop champagne, dey call am saviour. Some bloggers dey write, "Ifedayo, the hope of Nigerian youth!" Meanwhile, dem forget say Baba Seyi still dey struggle for hospital bed.

This man no get human feeling, but e get sense die. Wetin worse pass be say, e get money wey fit run like small country. For this world, e be like bomb wey fit explode any time.

I dey reason say e mind dey sharp like razor, but e heart strong like stone. Even chief for our area dey fear to cross e path. Na only God sabi wetin e fit do next.

The day after the press conference, e pick next target: that young journalist wey try help the old man.

The wahala never finish. As social media still dey boil, Ifedayo just sit down for e glass house, dey scroll phone, dey tap leg. E eye dey dance—na new game for am.

He dey scroll phone, horn from Third Mainland Bridge dey enter window, but e no even hear. For night, Ifedayo just call me anyhow make I come e mansion wey dey by Lekki waterfront. E pat my shoulder, say make we go swim.

As I reach Lekki, the place dey shine like wedding hall. Security guard open gate before I even horn finish. Swimming pool blue like Atlantic. I quick change, come dey enter cold water with am. The breeze blow, I dey sneeze like person wey get malaria, but I no fit talk, because na big man matter be this.

Water cold die. As I enter, sneeze wan kill me, but I no fit complain—just dey swim dey go.

My teeth dey knock like generator wey no get fuel. For inside water, all my body dey shiver, but I dey try form strong guy. If I talk say I wan comot, Ifedayo fit vex. For Lagos, you no dey use body do strong head for person wey hold your bread.

“Dem no dey understand me. Dem dey think say I be just spoilt rich kid, wicked and bad. Like Musa and those boys—dem dey call me Bro Dayo, but who know wetin dem dey talk behind my back.” Ifedayo give me towel. After more than one hour inside cold water, I no even dey feel my body again.

I collect towel, begin rub skin. My hand dey shake. For my mind, I dey reason say this talk fit get another meaning. The way e dey talk am, e sound like say e dey test me.

“Hmm.” I just dey shiver. For person wey dey unpredictable like this, I no fit talk too much.

I swallow spit, dey use teeth dey hold tongue. For Lagos, silence fit save your life. Ifedayo dey look me, I dey avoid e eye.

“But you dey different, Onuche. You get limit. Na why I like you. Musa and the rest na just dog for my hand, but you na friend.” Ifedayo clean e hair, waka go table, pour hot ginger tea give me.

The smell of ginger almost make me sneeze again, but I collect am, dey sip slow. E eye dey my face, dey search my soul like pastor dey find tithe. I no fit read wetin dey for e mind.

“I... I no too understand.”

I talk am with mouth dry. Na true, I no sabi where this talk dey go. Sometimes I dey fear say all these compliments na test—if you answer anyhow, na your own wahala.

“You don dey follow me since. No matter how I try, you no gree do bad thing. That one mean say you dey loyal. My papa talk say, na people wey dey loyal to their own heart person fit trust.”

I remember my papa words—"if you chop with devil, use long spoon." But loyalty for this Lagos na two edge sword. The thing dey bite both the person wey give am and the person wey collect.

No matter wetin e talk, I no fit tell am wetin dey my mind.

If I open mouth, na wahala go land. I just dey nod, dey sip tea. If I talk my mind, e fit be my last day for Lekki.

After I don dey with am so long, I sabi the kind person wey e be. Na tyrant, wey dey see people as toy. How person like that go get friend?

My mind dey run up and down. For Lagos, friend dey, but na only God fit save you from friend like Ifedayo. Wetin I dey call friendship, e dey call control.

Before I go, Ifedayo give me money. E say, “Go find better hospital for your sister. No worry, I go travel soon, I go help you check for better treatment abroad.”

E press money for my hand—plenty, pass anything wey I fit see for my own salary in three years. As e dey talk, e voice soft, but e eye still dey sharp, dey read me. I just dey mumble, "Thank you sir." My heart dey shake, my mind dey ask, "Wetin e go collect back?"

My heart just shake. I wan thank am, but e just smile, go upstairs.

I bend small, wan kneel, but e just wave hand, climb marble staircase like king. E no dey wait make person finish talk, e dey always dey in control.

Next day, Ifedayo plan start.

Sun never rise finish before Ifedayo don dey move plan. Na the kind person wey no dey sleep, dey always get one idea or another. If e talk say e go do something, nothing fit stop am. For my mind, I dey pray say make e forget me join for e next play.

For person wey get money like am, all those car, watch, yacht, celebrity, e don play am finish since e small. After e collect part of the family business, e best hobby na to dey ‘test human nature’—wicked play.

Dem talk say rich man wey tire for money, na devil dey whisper for e ear. The toys no dey sweet am again. E go dey find new way to dey control people, dey test people mind like lab rat.

That journalist, because e report Ifedayo Group wahala, lose e job the next day. E find work tire, but everywhere e go, as dem see e name, dem go chase am.

Na so HR for newspaper house call am, "We no fit employ person wey get wahala with Ifedayo Group o!" Even small blog wey dey for Iyana Ipaja block am. As the journalist dey waka from office to office, e shoe don nearly cut, but nobody dey answer am.

The journalist get fiancée. Dem don dey together over ten years, plan marry for Christmas. Because of the scandal, wedding postpone. As journalist dey find work, one man enter e babe life—one of Ifedayo boys, Gbenga, former number one male escort. Gbenga sabi woman matter, dey give her gift, dey sweet talk her, quickly win her heart.

Gbenga na sharp guy. E sabi how to dey use sweet mouth, dey buy small-small things for babe—perfume, new phone, recharge card. As e dey flex am, the babe begin dey fall. Church people begin dey notice say she dey shine face anyhow. If you look am, you go think say na small play, but e serious.

The babe wan leave the journalist, but Gbenga tell am say e get wife, so na only secret lover she fit be. E even encourage her make she still marry the journalist. The babe, wey don fall for Gbenga, agree.

Gbenga use all the trick for woman head—make her believe say she fit get two men at once. The girl dey confuse, dey cry for night, but e still dey follow Gbenga. Na Lagos life.

On wedding night, journalist receive video from Gbenga—video of e wife dey cheat with Gbenga, for car, toilet, even their own bed. Inside the video, the woman dey moan, dey insult the journalist say e no sabi anything.

For Yoruba tradition, wedding night na big thing. Some families dey do special prayer. But this one turn burial ground. The video dey loud, Gbenga face clear, the woman mouth dey run. The journalist collapse, phone fall for ground. People for compound dey gather, dey whisper, "Ewo! O ti tan!"

Journalist happiest day turn to wahala.

Tears full e eye, e begin dey break things. Cake scatter for ground, glass dey fly, people dey run. Neighbours dey shout, "Wetin happen? Make una call pastor!"

Red eye, e ask e wife why she do am. The woman, as everything scatter, just shout say if no be say Gbenga get wife, who go marry loser like you? Journalist grab her neck. As she see danger, she beg. Remember old love, e leave her. But she grab knife, stab am. As blood show, the thing clear for journalist eye, e finally lose control.

Ambulance rush reach, but before dem fit separate dem, everywhere don red. The woman dey scream, the man dey shout. Blood run for floor like palm oil. Old mama for next compound drop prayer bead, voice crack as she pray.

Na this be Ifedayo best game—wicked play wey dey turn person to animal.

Ifedayo dey watch everything like person wey dey play PS5. For am, human life na just chess board. If you lose, you go out, another person enter.

That honest, passionate journalist kill e wife for wedding night. Blood full e body, e waka go street, dey find Gbenga—Gbenga don run go another city. Police catch journalist before e go far. As dem bundle am enter police car, e just shout like wounded animal, full of pain and vex.

Police dey shout, "Hold am! No let am run!" Neighbours dey video. Twitter dey hot. Even church group dey do vigil for the two families. Na so the whole street dey mourn. People dey curse Ifedayo for inside, but nobody fit talk am loud.

Next morning, Ifedayo just dey clap, dey laugh as e dey read news, eyes dey shine like person wey get new toy.

For mansion, boys dey bring am newspaper, e cross leg, dey sip juice. "Nice game," e talk. "Next round go sweet pass."

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