Chapter 5: City Wahala

I tell Mr. Ibrahim say I wan see the tallest building for Makurdi.

I ask with stubbornness. For my mind, I dey remember story wey old village pikin dey hear: "One day, go city, see tall house." Now, I wan see am before I die. I dey stubborn, but I no fit beg.

Dem argue for two hours before dem gree.

Oga Ibrahim no wan gree. Others dey shout, "She fit run! She fit do another evil!" I just dey look them. My stubbornness win at last. Na police pride no wan fall.

Even though handcuff still dey my hand, for small time, I free.

The cold iron still dey bite my wrist, but fresh air dey touch my face. I smell city breeze, e different from village farm smell. My mind dey jump like say I be small pikin again.

But as I comot police station, wahala burst.

Na so crowd full everywhere. Men, women, even small pikin, dey wave stick and stone. Their eyes red, their voice loud. "Animal! Killer! Witch!" Na so dem dey shout.

Plenty people don gather, vex for body. As dem see me, dem wan tear me to pieces.

The anger for their face na like market woman wey thief chop her beans. If no be police, dem for don cut me like goat.

"Everybody, see am! That ungrateful person don come out!"

One old mama shout, her wrapper tie for chest. The shout na signal—everybody turn, focus me.

People begin throw anything—egg, rotten tomato, dirty things—dem just dey throw me anyhow.

One pepper seller throw her rotten pepper, mechanic throw old plug. Wetin dem get, na so e dey fly come my body. Even some aboki join, throw suya stick. My clothe no pure again.

Even with police, I still chop plenty egg and dirty food, body just dey smell.

Police dey try form wall, but e no reach. My body dey wet, dey sticky. My hair carry pepper, my shirt dey drip with unknown liquid.

"You animal, you get mind show face? Make we stone am!"

One small boy with sharp mouth pick stone. The crowd begin hail. For my mind, I dey wonder if na so justice dey work for city.

Danfo horn dey blast, okada dey zigzag, but everybody eye dey red, focus me like say na goat for Sallah. "Oga police, no allow am go! To shoot am too easy—make dem cut am small small, show am for road!"

Somebody with big voice, maybe area boy, dey ginger others. Even some old men dey nod, dey curse me for their language. "Ala njo! Ewu!"

"See? Your wahala don scatter everywhere. People wan make you die. Yet you still wan waka outside?"

Mr. Ibrahim dey sweat, e dey push people back. For him eye, I see worry. E dey fear say crowd fit overpower police.

I wipe egg for face, answer Mr. Ibrahim:

I use hand remove shell, my face red, my heart cold. My voice low, no fear.

"I still wan go."

I no dey shake. I no fit let dem win for crowd. For my mind, I dey look them, dey see my own pain inside their eyes.

E frown, like say e no understand why I dey insist.

For him mind, maybe e dey wonder if I get plan to run. But me, I just stubborn.

"Make road!"

Somebody shout, people shift.

The voice loud, na deep voice. The crowd open, small boy step front, bucket for hand. For my mind, I dey ready for anything.

Before I fit react, person pour me with dirty water.

The cold hit me like slap. The water soak my skin, my spirit break small.

The smell of urine and mess just full everywhere.

My nose twist, my stomach turn. Na gutter water, soap, maybe even blood. I no fit talk, I just freeze. Na fear grip me for throat, like say hand dey press am from inside.

Na small boy, maybe seventeen or eighteen, hold dirty bucket, e eyes wicked:

The way e smile, e be like say e win jackpot. His friends dey shout, dey clap. My eye meet his, for there I see hate and excitement.

"People like you dey spoil air. Make I clean you well!"

E talk am loud, crowd cheer. For my mind, I dey wonder how small boy fit carry that kain wickedness.

People quiet small, then start to clap and hail am.

Somebody start chant, others join: "Beat am! Beat am!" City wahala pass village own. Even police dey fear.

The boy dey enjoy, dey shine teeth like hero.

His friends dey snap with phone, dey post for internet. For that moment, na him be king. My body dey cold, my heart dey harden.

Me, with egg, rotten food, and who know wetin, I just dey smell like gutter.

If I get mirror, I no go fit recognise myself. Even my own spirit fit run from my body.

As I see the boy dey happy, I lose interest for outside.

The whole city, the crowd, the wahala—e no move me again. I just tire.

"Abeg, make we go back."

My voice low, my spirit weak. I no fit fight again. For my mind, I dey beg God to just finish the matter quick.

I look Mr. Ibrahim, e still dey far, but I catch small confusion for e face.

E dey wonder why my boldness just fade. Na small boy break me pass police.

"I just wan see the big city wey everybody dey dream about. But after I see these people, abeg, e no even get anything special."

My dream about city na scam. Wetin I see na pain, shame, wickedness. No different from village wahala.

I adjust my hair, try hold small dignity.

The dirty band wey Aunty Morayo give me still dey for hair. I use hand arrange am, try form strong.

"I no dey interested again. Oya, Officer Ibrahim, make we dey go."

My voice no shake, but my eye dey red. For my mind, I dey finally accept say my story don end here.