Chapter 3: Jide’s Broken Past

As people talk: Jide Nwachukwu—the male lead for this story—na pikin wey dem born outside from big man family.

No be today this kind story dey happen. People dey quick judge but na only person wey wear the shoe know where e dey pain am.

Him papa na one big oga for North City, after one night with him secretary, belle enter.

This life ehn, na only God dey save person. That one night matter, see as e take scatter family.

The secretary no gree make the man carry wahala, so she resign, carry her belle go village, born Jide Nwachukwu.

For that village, things no too easy. Mama Jide suffer well, but na better woman—always dey pray, dey struggle for her boy. E pain me say she no last.

Not long, she die, and people come know about Jide Nwachukwu.

Small time, gossip begin spread for city. Everybody dey talk, but na only Jide carry the burden.

He no get choice, return North City go find him papa, dem accept am for family.

Na there the real wahala start. Family house big, but cold pass freezer. Everybody dey watch am like say him be stranger.

—I always dey reason, no be like one of those Nollywood films?

If to say na Nollywood, e for turn millionaire overnight. But real life no dey play like that. Suffer head no dey see happy ending quick quick.

But luck no shine for am like those movie people.

For am, e be like say God just use stone block the road.

For Nwachukwu family, nobody send am.

No love, no welcome. Na only wall and eye wey dey judge.

Relatives no dey let am chop for table; brothers dey bully am, even nanny dey insult am, send am go fight dog for food.

That one pain me pass. Imagine small boy, dem dey use am catch cruise. Even dog sef dey collect better treatment.

So, when I enter the novel, I see am...

First sight, my heart just cut. No be small wahala. Jide dey corner, boys full everywhere, wahala full ground.

Ehn, dem corner am, five cousins dey beat am.

If to say na my street, I for don gather boys, use belt teach dem lesson. But as I be stranger, na only my small banger I get.

I use big knockout banger scare those yeye boys, drag Jide Nwachukwu from inside harmattan cold, ask am:

The banger still dey smoke, my hand dey shake small, but I still manage bring boldness come out.

“You injure when you fall?”

I look am, my heart dey pain. The bruises na fresh and old, mix together. The boy just dey look like say world don finish.

Jide Nwachukwu face full with old and new bruises. He hold sand for hand, no dey look me, just dey look ground.

E fit be say na shame, or e no trust me. For Naija, no be every hand wey reach out na help.

He never reach teenage that time.

Na only small pikin, but him eye dey sharp, old for age.

For the coldest harmattan, him jacket don soak, neck dey wet, cold from dew.

I touch him jacket, the thing cold pass ice block. My own heart dey bleed.

But the guy just dey calm.

No tears, no noise. He just dey grind teeth, hold sand.

I reason am small, then talk:

“I just move next door. My papa and your papa dey do business. You wan come change cloth for my house?”

I talk am soft, like mama wey dey calm pikin. But na only God know wetin dey run for him mind.

I no know which part catch am, but Jide Nwachukwu finally turn, look me.

Him eyes dark, deep. For that brief moment, na pain and wahala I see, but also one small light wey dey try shine.

Our eyes jam. Him look cold, quiet, like person wey dey hide knife for dark.

Goosebumps run for my arm. I know say this one no be ordinary pikin.

I freeze, release him arm.

Sometimes, to show care, na to give space.

He no send me, just talk:

“Comot.”

But I no vex. I just dey pity am more. Na only wall the boy sabi. Wetin you expect?