Chapter 1: Commandments of Madness

My neighbor across the corridor just dropped a message in the residents’ WhatsApp group:

Even before I click open the chat, I fit sense the wahala. Lagos people and their plenty drama, ehn? Na so my phone begin vibrate anyhow. Generator hum dey background, and small suya smoke from downstairs dey enter my window.

"Attention, everybody: my wife is pregnant. To make sure she can rest well and enjoy a peaceful pregnancy, I’ve put together a ‘Building Residents’ Code of Conduct.’"

E land for group like town crier with megaphone—everybody for compound go hear am. I just dey wonder which kind person get this kain boldness, but before anybody fit even blink, the guy begin drop him commandments one by one as if say na Moses wey dey give new law for Sinai:

Before we fit even blink, he posted ten ridiculous rules:

"No renovations, no dogs, no cooking at home, no using the elevator at night, no looking at your phone when you see my wife..."

As I dey scroll, my eye nearly fall out. The audacity, eh! I fit imagine my mumsy for Enugu hearing this kain talk—she go shout, "Hian!"

First: My wife fit sleep at any time, so day or night, all residents must not make any noise.

Somebody for group drop laughing emoji, but the man no even send.

Second: While my wife dey pregnant, nobody should do any renovations.

Another person post, "Na wa o," but the man just dey go.

Third: My wife dey fear dogs, so keeping dogs is banned. If you get dog, you must get rid of am within three days.

Plenty shocked emoji fly for chat, but Oga Moses no gree pause.

Fourth: Because of radiation, if you meet my wife for elevator, you no fit look your phone.

Somebody type, "This one na new science," but oga still dey drop rules like rain.

……

Ninth: My wife no fit stand the smell of palm oil, so residents for the top floor no suppose cook at home.

One group member reply, "So na cold food we go dey chop?"

Tenth: The elevator door dey too loud when e open, so after 9 p.m., residents for the top floor no fit use elevator.

Everybody just dey silent, but I dey sure say dem dey vex inside.

Omo, my mouth just hang open in shock:

This woman na she dey carry Jesus for belle or wetin? Where this man get the mind to dey command everybody like say na him be landlord?

I even reason say maybe na April fool. But I look calendar—abeg, this na September. Person wey no even get seniority for building dey carry shoulder like local government chairman. You go think say na him papa build the place.

Especially as na only two flats dey each floor—the last two rules na clear for me.

For my mind, I dey calculate how the rules dey target only me. E show say the man get special beef for my flat, abi e just wan carry craze enter my side.

The guy just dey shout order: "From now on, all residents must follow this code. Admin, abeg @ everybody."

You suppose hear the confidence. E be like person wey win lotto. As e dey command, e no even ask, e dey instruct as if say we be secondary school students.

Strangely, nobody for the group insult am.

Dem fit hold back, but me, I no fit.

My finger hover for keyboard. Make I type? Make I bone? But my chest dey hot—no fit hold am.

I fire back straight: "Abeg, wetin concern us with your wife pregnancy? All of us dey contribute to raise the pikin together or how?"

The group suddenly silent. The way my message land, I fit almost hear people for their flats dey hold laugh, dey pray make wahala no scatter.

The guy across the corridor just vex:

"Wetin you dey talk? You wan find wahala abi?"

Him voice note land sharp-sharp, with that Igbo undertone wey dey tell you say person don reach breaking point.

"I dey tell you, my wife pregnancy na the most important thing here. If anybody try disturb am, you go regret am!"

The chat dey hot now. Na so he drop another voice, him chest dey rise and fall like generator wey dey struggle start.

"Ode, which flat you dey? Why you no get remark? Admin, this one sef dey our building? If not, abeg remove am!"

See as e dey feel like oga.

But me, I don see plenty noise makers like am before.

People wey think say if dem shout pass, na dem get right. Dem never jam Ifeanyi.

I reply: "How your own take concern me? The baby for your wife belle no concern anybody else, so you no get right to dey control how others go live."

I type am slowly, make sure every word pepper am well. As I dey send, I sip my malt, cross leg, dey feel like judge for high court.

The guy send voice note, dey curse my ancestors from here reach my village. Thunder fire your left leg! He even try to speak small Yoruba inside—e think say e go intimidate me. The way him mouth dey move, you go think say na person wey chop pepper.

He try add me as friend, but I just bone am.

No be today dem start this kain intimidation. I lock my phone. Wahala no dey tire me.

The aunty downstairs wey add me to the group chat send me private message:

"Ifeanyi, abeg no go dey drag with those people for Flat B. Everybody for this building know say anybody wey cross them no dey get peace. The last people for Flat A run comot because of wahala."

Her message come with praying hands and two crying emojis. I reason the matter small; this woman just dey try protect me.

No wonder nobody else talk—everybody just dey fear trouble.

Dem dey act like say na shrine priest dem offend. Lagos get all kinds of people, but this couple dey carry stubbornness reach another level.

But as she talk am, my body come dey ginger.

I fit no sabi many things, but to handle wahala people, na me dey top.

Flat B still dey rant for group, dey pour all kinds of dirty curses.

The chat dey move so fast, you go think say na Twitter trend. But me, my skin don thick for that kind talk. This na just beginning—I no get time to argue. I off my phone and sleep jejely.

Sleep come like say angel dey blow breeze for my face. For my dream, I dey win argument for village square. E sweet me die.