Chapter 6: The Briefcase

I pause my suspicion for now, stop to follow Chuka.

I decide to chill, make I no go overdo. My body dey tire, but my mind still dey race.

But I still never understand why dem dey act like strangers for day.

E dey pain me, because for Naija, people dey run coded love, but this one get as e be.

That day, I dey house dey edit video. After I stare computer tire, my eyes begin pain me.

Na my usual vlog about "Why Nigerian skies no dey blue." Na there I realize say sometimes, person eye need rest from screen.

I decide to rest small, waka go window to look outside.

I stretch neck, yawn, then open curtain small. Sun dey set, breeze dey enter room, make everywhere dey calm.

Na so I see three people shadow for Morayo apartment.

Sharp sharp, I duck, wipe window. Na new movement be this. My chest dey drum like bata for festival.

My heart skip. Na the first time I dey see third person for their house. First time I dey see them for house during day.

E be like say I win lottery. Something big dey happen, and me I no wan miss am.

Curiosity catch me, I sharply grab telescope begin peep.

My hand dey sweat, leg dey shake, I dey whisper small prayer—make I no enter wahala. For my mind, I dey pray make them no catch me.

The visitor na man wey wear suit and tie, carry briefcase.

For Lagos, if you see man with briefcase for sun, e mean two things—bank loan or trouble. If you see as him shoe dey shine, you go know say the man mean business.

I see Chuka dey talk serious, Morayo stand for him side, face blank.

Chuka dey gesture with hand, the man dey nod slow slow. Morayo dey hold her wrist, her body language dey stiff. As if she dey beg ground make e swallow her.

But for some reason, I notice fear for Morayo eye.

Her eye dey red like person wey never sleep. I fit see small sweat for her forehead, and the way she dey bite lip, you go know say wahala dey ground.

Yes, fear.

Na true, Naija woman dey show her fear for face if e reach certain level. Morayo no fit hide am this time.

I no know how long dem talk, but finally dem stop.

My chest dey hammer like generator wey no wan gree start, but my mind dey sharp. I dey wait make something happen, dey ready for any drama.

The man with suit drop briefcase for floor, open am slow slow.

Omo, the way he open am, you go think say na ritual e wan do. I dey hold breath, dey peep like say my life depend on am.

Wetin I see inside shock me—na cash full the briefcase.

Bundles of five hundred naira notes, crisp, new, dey stacked. I nearly shout, but I hold myself. For Naija, to see that kind cash for briefcase na big deal.

No be say I dey overthink—the scene just be like one kind shady deal for African Magic.

I dey expect soundtrack to start. Na only film I dey see this kind movement. Maybe dem dey plan to buy land for village?

Truth be say, I begin suspect say dem fit dey do something illegal.

My mind dey run—419, yahoo, money laundering. I dey imagine EFCC go bust in any moment. Naija wahala.

I swallow spit, my hand go phone.

Na that kind moment you go dey pray make your phone no freeze or fall for ground. My hand dey shake.

The dial screen light up, then go off. But I no fit press call.

I dey reason, "If I call police, dem fit carry me join body." Lagos police no dey hear story.

E shock me say I no wan lose Morayo. I no wan make she disappear.

Na strong feeling be that. Person wey no even know you exist, but you dey protect her with your mind.

We no even get any connection. She no even know say I exist.

But love dey do wonders. I dey reason say maybe na my only chance to see beauty for this hard Lagos.

But the thought just dey my mind, I no fit act normal.

My leg dey shake, I dey sweat, window dey open. I dey pray make NEPA no take light so that dem no go see my face.

I drop my hand, off the phone, throw am for sofa.

If police wahala come, na my own story be that. Better I just observe from far.

Maybe things no be as I dey think. Maybe na just my mind dey play trick.

I dey reason if na business deal, or maybe dem dey do club contribution. But all my sense dey tell me, "Oga, danger dey o!"

I try calm myself—or maybe I dey deceive myself.

I dey breathe in, breathe out, like say I dey practice yoga. I just dey wait for night to fall make my head cool.

Anyhow, I no call police. For Naija, sometimes e better to mind your business.

My uncle for Mushin dey always talk, "Na who sabi pass dey live long." I remember am well that night.

After that, I see Chuka look Morayo. Morayo nod, go pick the briefcase full of cash.

E be like say dem dey agree to one silent plan. Morayo carry the case, her hand dey shake, but she no show fear for face again. Strong woman.

Then na some boring talk follow. I no sabi read lips, so I no know wetin dem dey yarn.

Dem dey gesture, sometimes dey laugh small, but e no reach the eye. The tension thick for air.

Finally, the man in suit nod, before he commot, he point finger at Chuka, eye sharp—like threat.

You know that kain look wey say, "You mess up, you go hear am." Chuka just nod, but e clear say fear grip am.

As the man go, Chuka and Morayo disappear from my view.

Dem off light, window close. My night entertainment don end be that. But my chest dey tight, my mind dey race.

I no know if na my mind dey play me, but as Morayo dey leave the room, e be like say she look my direction.

E be like her eye lock for my window. My heart cut, my hand dey shake. E remain make I faint.

E be like she don catch me.

For my mind, I dey replay the scene over and over. Maybe na my mind dey deceive me, but e sure me say she suspect.

My chest do gbim. I realize say wahala dey:

Na that kain heartbeat wey dey knock for chest like bata drum. I dey sweat, dey pray make I disappear.

Na broad daylight. Everywhere bright. She fit don see me well.

Sun dey shine, my white singlet dey reflect light for window. I forget say day no dey hide criminal.

Most important, as I dey peep, I forget close my curtain—my whole body dey open for the big window.

I curse myself, "Oga, na so dem dey catch thief." Lesson learnt, but e fit don late.

This one bad. E really bad…

As I hide for my dark room, sweat dey drip for my back, I dey pray make tomorrow reach. But for Lagos, tomorrow fit carry new wahala.

Na so wahala dey start for Lagos. One small mistake, na there your story go end.

My face turn pale. I throw the telescope, drag the curtain, hide for dark.

I dey shake, dey whisper prayer. "God abeg, make dem no reason my matter."

If dem catch me, my work, my life go scatter. I no fit let that happen.

Even my followers go drag me online—"Science blogger turn peeping tom." Na scandal be that.

But the thing wey dey fear me pass be say, if dem really dey do illegal thing—and dem know say I don see—dem fit wan silence me.

For Lagos, all man dey protect him secret. I dey remember all those true crime stories wey I dey read for Sunday Sun.

I curl up for sofa, thoughts dey run for my head.

I dey imagine how I go explain the matter for police station. My chest dey tight, sleep run from my eye.

I even reason say make I run commot from city, just to save my life.

I dey check Jiji for short let apartment. I dey price ticket for night bus. No time for story.

After plenty think, I decide to run.

I no even pack plenty load, just small Ghana-must-go. Survival first.

I book flight for next morning, begin pack my load.

I dey shake, dey arrange my laptop, charger, small change. My chest dey hammer like generator wey no get fuel.

I stay house all day, I no even dare go outside.

I off all light, close window, dey peep small small. I no wan give anybody chance.

That night, na the first time I no peep their night show.

As I dey lie for bed, I dey imagine wetin fit happen for their side. But fear hold me, I no fit near window. I pray make I see next morning.