Chapter 1: When Spirit Swap Crown for Wahala

Reborn inside the body of a 47-year-old oba.

This kain thing fit happen to person for Nollywood film, but na real for me. As I open my eye, na for one massive chamber I land. The smell of burning camphor and fried plantain dey mix for air, while distant talking drum dey knock for corridor. Royal regalia full my body, heavy crown dey press my forehead like mortar for head after all-night vigil. My first thought be, which kain wahala be this?

Queen Mother dey waka like say na her God create palace. If you see as she move, head high, her wrapper no dey touch ground, her gold bangle dey jangle as she wave, and every servant bow, touch ground with forehead. You go think say na angel descend from heaven. Her relatives full palace like fufu for Sunday rice; everywhere na their territory. Small thing, you go hear, 'Queen Mother say…' and everybody go begin run up and down.

The Crown Prince? That one, abeg, e no get sense at all—just dey waste space. The other princes? Dem dey plan day and night, dey set trap for the throne.

Crown Prince, ehn, if dem dey sell sense for market, he no go even price am. Always dey follow him clique, dey form big man. But once matter land for him table, everywhere go scatter. The other princes dey waka like hungry lions, dey use coded eye dey plan who go be next king. Palace politics na real football match—everybody dey dribble, no referee.

Princesses suppose dey enjoy as royal pikin, but dem dey suffer for their husband and in-law house—dem dey use them anyhow.

Princess matter dey pain me pass. Instead of dem to dey chop life, na struggle be their story: one dey fetch water for in-law house, another dey peel cassava tire for market woman. Sometimes, dem go report to palace, but who go fight for them? Everybody dey protect their own pocket.

Palace wives? Na wahala full ground—everybody dey form clique, dey plan how dem go outsmart each other.

If you see as palace wives dey move, you go fear. Some dey gather for corridor, dey gossip. "You hear say Chief wife slap Okeke daughter? Na wa o! Dem say she break plate join!" Some dey send small girl make she spy another wife. The whole harem na like mini National Assembly—conspiracy full everywhere. Even as I waka pass, I dey hear, 'Oba this, Oba that,' but nobody pure for inside.

Even palace elders, their mouth sharp like razor, dey wait for me to make mistake so dem go finish me.

Palace elders no dey smile. Their tongue fit peel mango. Any small mistake, dem go meet, summon council, talk from morning till night. If dem catch person, na to disgrace am for village square. If no be say I get thick skin, dem for don roast me alive.

Omo, to be oba for this kain palace na real disgrace.

I just dey look myself for mirror that first morning, dey wonder if I no suppose just faint go back spirit world. This one no be enjoyment o; na full-time battle.

Opportunity no dey knock two times for person door. I no know say the door wey open fit swallow person whole.