Chapter 2: Suya Smoke and Secret Staircases

After I call police, I no rush enter the lounge. I waka go back of the building. I see one iron staircase for wall wey lead go staff quarters.

The place dark small, generator dey hum for corner, but I sabi all the nook and cranny of these joints. The air thick with the smell of suya smoke wey dey drift from the roadside stand, and the floor sticky as I waka—old beer don soak everywhere, dey glue shoe to ground. That staircase be like secret code for the staff; na only people wey dey work there dey waka that path. Mosquito dey chop my leg, but I no send.

For places wey dey do runs, I sabi dem pass the customers sef.

Many times, na me dey carry dem girls after work, sometimes drop them for their own house, sometimes help cover up if police dey block road. I don see all the sharp practices, the coded sign wey bouncers dey use, even know the girl wey dey run their drinks tab.

As designated driver, na so so drunk customer I dey carry go different kind places. One time, I ask one customer about this lounge, say dem no dey fear police?

The way that customer laugh that day, e be like say police na their padi. E talk say, “Baba, police dey chop for here too. But even if wahala burst, we get our own way.” I just dey nod. For Naija, everybody get their backdoor.

Drunk people dey always talk anyhow. The guy tell me say if police show, the lounge get secret road go staff quarters, from there you fit escape use fire escape.

I just dey watch the guy that day as e dey wobble, dey pour drink for ground, mouth dey loose. Drunk gist no dey get filter. From him mouth, I learn the sharpest trick wey I fit use today.

Na this iron staircase be their escape route.

If wahala enter, na there everybody go vanish—customers, girls, even oga manager. That staircase na passport out, but tonight, e no go work for anybody.

I climb go block the door, make sure say dem no fit run.

I carry one broken block wey I see for ground, wedge the bottom of the door, then use stick cross the handle. If dem like, make dem get six packs, tonight dem go learn.

After I lock am, I waka enter lounge through main entrance. When dem book private room inside car, I don already sabi their room number: 222.

I just blend enter like person wey dey wait for friend. For this kind place, if you get confidence, nobody go question you. My eyes sharp, I don scope their room as I dey pass reception. Even the bouncer nod me, e no know say wahala dey come.

As I enter, I pull out my phone, peep through glass door.

E get as the light dey shine for inside, dem just dey scatter, music low, people dey smoke shisha, light dey blink. I see the bottle girls with tray full of drink, dey waka up and down. For glass door, I peep small, my hand dey shake but I no let am show.

Na real enjoyment dey go on inside.

The way the girls just dey laugh, dey roll for lap, dey whine waist, e be like say dem dey act film. Table full, bottles everywhere. For one corner, I see person dey spray money, another dey snap selfie. If to say I get this kind life, maybe I go just dey soft.

The girls just dey scatter, sit down for their lap, dey whine body. Two bottles of Hennessy dey table—each fit cost pass one thousand naira.

I remember say for my street, if person see Hennessy, e go snap picture, send go WhatsApp group, but here dem just dey pour am like water. I even spy one girl dey collect transfer for phone as she whine.

See these rich people—fit throw thousands anyhow, but small money dem no go gree drop for poor man.

E pain me as I dey count all the cash for their table, dey remember my two naira sixty wey dey cause all this wahala. Life no balance at all. Na so Naija be—person dey buy drink wey fit pay another person rent.