Chapter 2: Back to North City

I close my eyes, open am.

Close am again. Open am again.

I fit swear say na juju dey worry me. Wetin be this? I reason am twice, touch my head small, dey pray make this one no be dream.

After I check well well, I realise say I still dey inside the same North City wey I know.

E never change much. The air still dey carry small dust, but everywhere dey shine. That familiar scent of suya mix with expensive perfume just dey waft everywhere. The way big men dey waka, you go know say money dey talk.

Big cars and fine people full everywhere for the five-star hotel. Cameras dey flash anyhow as people prepare for tonight’s Nwachukwu Group annual party.

Omo, dem dress die. Ladies with gele wey tall like mountain, men with agbada wey be like sailboat. Some oyibo guests sef dey carry wine, dey snap selfie as if na their papa party.

Outside, generator hum dey mix with faint sound of Hausa music from street vendors. I shock, look myself, touch my face. No be film? No be dream? My shoe sef dey pain me, na real wahala.

Wahala.

True wahala, like as NEPA take off light for football match. My heart just dey drum for chest.

I squat for one corner, no move at all.

Just like rat wey spot cat, I hide under banner, dey peep people. Under my breath, I whisper, "God abeg, cover my face. Make dem no see me for here."

The system begin nag me:

“Go find the male lead, Host! Why you dey squat there—na egg you wan hatch?”

As e talk finish, I vex:

“Hatch egg? Na you I go hatch! Shey you dey whine me? No be agreement say once I finish the mission, I go dey free? Why I come back again? Three years ago, I almost disgrace Jide Nwachukwu for him face just to break up, now you dey tell me make I go meet am? Why you no just allow me rest?”

The thing dey pain me. E be like say system wan use me play ten-ten. Three years ago, I suffer, I plan, I arrange. Now, dem drag me back like thief wey chop food from pot.

“Who you wan blame? You no finish the work well! You run go three years, Jide Nwachukwu lose him mind—who dem go call come fix am if no be you? If you no do something, forget heroine—the whole world go scatter because of am.”

System voice dey sharp like market woman wey dey find change. The thing dey bite me for ear. But wetin I go do?

“...”

I no fit talk, my throat just tight.

Na true. As system talk, my heart dey heavy. Wetin I go even tell person? Say I dey live for storybook, dey fix wahala boys?

Few years back, I collect work to enter one redemption novel to heal the wahala male lead.

That time, I no even know wetin redemption mean. I just dey find better life. Now see my life—inside one novel, dey patch person heart wey no gree break well.

The plan: fix am, hand am over to the heroine, then I fit bounce.

Easy on paper, but in real life, e get as e be. Sometimes, the thing dey choke.

But I no expect say just three years after, he go craze again.

True talk. I think say after that my hard work, the boy go mellow. But no, wahala no dey tire this one.

And this time, na the type wey fit destroy everywhere anytime.

Nobody dey safe if Jide vex. I fit imagine newspaper headline: "Big Man Scatter City Because of Woman."

So dem summon me back.

Like police warrant. No appeal. No lawyer.

I still dey squat, lost in thought. The system shout:

“Host, look—target character dey come!”

My mind jump. I dey reason say make I hide pass this, but system no gree let me get peace.

I raise my head. Under the fine starlight, the spotlights just dey shine everywhere, make the entrance look like river of light.

No be lie—light full everywhere. I smell perfume, expensive, the kind wey only big madam dey spray. People dey form, dey set phone camera, dey gossip for corner.

One driver with white gloves open car door. The man wey come down no get any expression, tall, suit fit am die—lead-grey suit, sharp and commanding.

If you no sabi money, just see the way tailor cut that suit—e go humble you. Jide waka steady, step strong like say him own the land. Even the way breeze dey blow him cloth, you go know say him destiny strong.

As Jide waka pass, even the perfume for air pause—everybody dey respect road. He waka enter the place, secretary dey rush follow am.

Secretary dey hold tablet, dey whisper, but Jide just dey nod small. E dey clear say na oga full ground.

I hold my breath.

—Jide Nwachukwu.

As I see am, my heart fall. No be small transformation. The boy wey I know don vanish; na full grown lion wey chop pepper dey here so.

Three years wey I no see am, he don mature, but the coldness for him body strong pass before.

You fit feel am for air—like say everywhere freeze as he pass. People dey shift, dey respect space. Nobody wan drag chance with am.

People dey whisper near me:

“Na the new chairman of Nwachukwu Group be that? With this kind face, why e no dey do modelling?”

“Abeg, leave that thing. Na child wey dem born outside, you never hear? I hear say na wicked ways he use—sacrifice plenty people—before he reach this position. Model? Abeg, forget.”

Na money dem dey find, not fine face.

Na so Naija people dey talk—one minute, praise, next minute, dem go run you down. But for my mind, I dey pity Jide. E no easy to dey carry family wahala for head.

...

I shrink enter the shadow more.

My belle dey shake, I hide behind one big pot of fake flower. E be like say everybody eye dey my body.

Next thing, hot eye just jam me from inside crowd.

Like small torchlight, I feel am. My body know before my mind catch up. Jide eye cut through crowd, land for my side. E be like say arrow just shoot me for heart.

Jide Nwachukwu turn, dey look me sharp sharp.

If eye fit burn person, I for don roast finish. The intensity na die.

Secretary ask am, “Wetyn happen, Chairman?”

Even her voice get small fear. As if she dey beg make thunder no strike here.

I swallow spit, lower my head.

For where! My mouth dry. I adjust scarf, try hide face.

Jide Nwachukwu pause for some seconds, press him lips, then talk, “Nothing.”

He waka enter the hall, no even look back.

E hard him, but him pride no go let am break face for public. Na so big men dey behave.

System curse:

“Coward! If you no go talk to am now, na when?”

The thing dey pain me, but I no fit shout. Person fit slap me here sef, who go rescue?

I rub my nose:

“Make we wait small. See as e fierce now... I dey fear say he go slap me.”

No be only slap. With the way him eye dey shine, he fit use glance finish me.

Even more scary than three years ago, when I leave this world...

That time, the heroine never enter scene. My mission don complete. I fit go.

The relief wey I feel that day no be here. Na freedom dance I do inside my mind.

System help me cook one fake story: say my parents don go bankrupt, I gats travel abroad.

I remember the tears wey I force that day. Even system dey coach me like say na Nollywood director.

For airport, Jide Nwachukwu no gree make I go. He just dey hold my hand, eyes red, dey ask:

“How much? How much your papa and mama owe?”

The stubbornness wey dey his voice na the one wey fit shake table. If not for people wey dey look, he for drag me follow body.

I no fit free myself, so I hug am, lie say: “Just reason am like say I dey travel far to buy you strawberries, abeg?”

For my mind, na only God fit judge me for that lie. But that day, I believe say na only way to commot.

That time, he never craze finish.

Na true talk. Small hope still dey his eye. The pain never reach bone.

Why e come be like say na devil dey control am now?

Maybe na me cause am. Maybe na wahala from world. But as I look am today, I know say something don really spoil.