Chapter 3: Cellmate of Destiny

This day, dungeon door dey open and close, new prisoners dey enter, empty cells dey fill up. E be like say dem gather people from all corners. The sound of chains, heavy boots, and loud cry dey fill corridor. Even rats sef run hide.

I hold iron bar dey look, hope dey my eye. My hand dey tremble for bar. I dey beg inside me. 'God, just one. Make dem pity me.'

"Give me one, abeg give me one."

My voice low, but my prayer strong.

Warders look me like say I dey craze. The way their eye take catch me, I fit see say dem dey reason whether my head correct.

Whether na pity or dem wan mock me, dem really put new cellmate join me.

I no send whether na punishment or joke, my heart dey beat like bata drum.

Na man, warders drag am, him leg no get power, dey drag for ground like sack.

For this Nigeria, when person leg no move, na real wahala be that. The man just dey limp, no even fit talk.

Blood full him body, dust everywhere, hair scatter cover face, prison cloth tear everywhere, whip mark and burn mark full body, no good skin remain.

If you see the sight, your mind go cut. E resemble film wey dem dey act for old village square, but this one na real.

"Oga, who be this one, wetin him do?"

I dey use small voice, but my mind dey reason say maybe na ogbanje dem bring come.

"Same category, una go chop execution together." Warder spit for ground, carry lantern waka go.

The spit land with sound. The man just waka away, light disappear. Darkness carry us.

Darkness cover cell again. Even as my eye don used to dark, na only him shadow I fit see.

E dey hard to see, but I dey try find outline, dey measure if danger dey.

Him resemble dead man, breath sef I no sure.

I pause, dey look am well. Wetin if e be mad man? Or na spirit dem send come?

I dey watch am, dey check if him chest dey move. I no want make dead body dey my padi.

I squat, dey observe am, waka round am, I just dey smile.

Even if my smile dey pain me, I still dey force am. Person no fit lose hope here.

"Hello? Oga, you dey alive?"

My voice soft, like mama wey dey pet pikin.

"Talk small, abeg."

If I no talk, madness fit hold me. I dey beg, make sound break this dead air.

My heart dey beat—no be fear, na joy.

Joy wey dey come from loneliness. I dey feel say my own saviour don come, even if na with blood and wound.

Before, if I see death row person, I for run far. But after forty-nine days for this small place, I nearly wan end am myself. Even if rat spirit dey talk, I for worship am, talk less of this big human being.

I dey smile for inside, dey thank God for small mercy.

Cellmate no talk, no move.

But my hope no die. I dey believe say e go reply one day.

I shift him hair, see say him eye open, just dey look ceiling.

For that moment, I see small life. E dey look up like person wey dey see vision.

I check him breath—small warm air touch my finger.

Na relief I feel. My body just soft small.

Better, him never die.

I dey almost thank God with full chest.

"Hehe, how outside be? Sun dey or rain dey fall?"

I dey try gist, maybe e go break him silence.

"Since I enter here, sunlight I never see."

Na truth I talk. Darkness just dey cover us like wrapper.

"Oga, no dey cold like this. We dey idle, make we gist."

Na small joke I crack, but na true. Cold fit kill person for here.

"Wetin you do wey make dem sentence you?"

I dey hope say e go open up. Maybe story go heal wound for both of us.

I talk tire, even the rat couple wey dey make noise quiet.

Cell quiet like grave. I dey hear my own breath, I dey wait for reply.

I come believe am.

My mind just accept say maybe na only me go talk till I tire.

Sigh, cellmate don suffer punishment till e craze.

I dey look am, my heart dey pain me. Nobody suppose pass through this kind wahala.