Chapter 1: When Thunder Struck

My younger male cousin had a keke accident while he dey deliver food.

That day, e be like thunder strike our whole family. Even the neighbour’s goat stop chewing, as if e know say wahala don land. Keke horn still dey shout for junction, agbero dey drag passenger for side. Na so one keke man dey rush deliver order before rain fall, then gbam—one okada just weave anyhow, one blink, everything change. The story reach me as frantic voice note, breaking into my Monday morning like wahala I didn't bargain for. For Naija, bad news no dey knock soft at all.

Doctor yarn say the injury bad—one leg must go, nothing like hope.

You know as Naija doctors be—dem no dey sugarcoat matter when e don red. The way e talk am, you go think say leg na firewood. Hope no even show for e face. If doctor talk am like that, you go know say time don run comot.

My uncle and aunt wey dey village just dey panic, dem dey call me back to back, no sabi wetin to do.

Omo, e be like their head dey spin. For village, once city doctor begin drop grammar, na confusion and panic go follow. My phone just dey ring like NTA alarm. "Chijioke, wetin we go do? Chijioke, you dey Lagos, your head suppose correct pass our own—abeg, show us road!" Their voice no get liver for decision at all.

Seeing how bad the injuries be, and knowing say delay fit cost am the other leg, I just beg them make dem listen to the doctor and do the amputation.

E pain me, but I reason am with clear head. For Naija, if you no act sharp sharp, double wahala fit land. My voice steady as I tell dem: "Uncle, Aunty, abeg listen to the doctor, na for everybody good."

I even sign the consent forms for them.

No time for long story. My hand dey shake as I hold biro, memory of Ebuka small pikin voice dey my ear. "God, abeg, no let me make mistake." Still, I sign am. Sometimes, family responsibility heavy for chest like say I swallow yam.

But last last, na me be the bad person for their eye.

As e be, wahala no dey ever finish. Instead of thank you, na side eye I dey collect. For Naija, dem quick forget who run help when gree enter body.

Dem talk say na jealousy make me ruin Ebuka, say I dey vex say e dey make money pass me.

Village gossip spread like fire for harmattan. Dem dey whisper: "Na Chijioke, he no happy say Ebuka dey shine pass am!" Jealousy for Naija fit turn any matter upside down. My chest dey tight like say I swallow yam, as if all my sacrifice na sand.

On my wedding day, my cousin push me from hotel window—my fiancée die that day.

Aso-ebi people never even dance finish, DJ still dey set speaker. My life just scatter. You know say for Nigeria, wedding na celebration, not tears. But Ebuka lose control, blood run for reception hall. People still dey gist am for Estate Palava WhatsApp group till today.

"Na your fault! If no be you, I no for lose my leg! All of una suppose die!"

Him eyes red, voice sharp like new blade. The curses bite pass slap. For Naija, curse get weight. I still dey remember am, that bitterness, like say devil dey borrow him tongue.

When I open my eyes again, na back to the day of Ebuka accident I land.

I touch my chest, confirm say my shirt still dey sweat from sun, not blood. Na wah! E shock me—one minute hotel window, next thing, God press reset. Same day, same panic, chest dey tight, body dey shiver.