Chapter 2: The Witch at My Door

"Brother, accident catch me. I no go make am... abeg, help me look after Kamsi..."

My sister voice weak like person wey dey fade, still reach my ear.

For the first time, tears gather for my eye, but I force am hold. I no wan break for phone.

But the messages for my front just dey increase, dey loud like wave.

"No gree for her. If you try am, your own don finish."

The warning just dey ring, like say person dey blow whistle for my head.

"Dem no arrange the accident scene well, na money dem dey find. Abeg, no gree."

This kain accusation dey pain me, but fear dey mix with am. Na so dem dey carry matter for family meeting.

My heart begin beat anyhow, my right eye sef dey shake.

I sharply cut the call.

I press the red button as if na the button go save me from village people.

Na so the messages for my front just burst, dey happy. The whole thing just resemble when you win jackpot for Baba Ijebu, everybody dey hail.

"Ah ah! Why this guy dey act different from how e do last time!"

I open my mouth, wan talk, but words no come. I just dey look my phone, like say spirit dey inside.

"I get one mad idea... Oga main character, you dey see our message? If yes, abeg raise your left hand."

[Chai! Wahala just land o! 😂🔥]

Confused, I raise my left hand, still dey wonder.

I dey reason if na mumu I be, or na jazz dey work for here.

Na so everywhere scatter.

My body cold, but sweat dey my back. I no fit explain am.

"Chai! I don turn mumu for my own story! Like all those people for Super Story wey no sabi wetin dey happen."

[Chai! Wahala just land o! 😂🔥]

The messages tell me say dem dey stream my life live like film.

If to say na Lagos, dem for say na BBNaija them dey show. E shock me well.

Now, e be like say na second life I dey live so.

I try pinch myself, see if na dream. Pain enter, so e mean say reality dey ground.

For the first one—wey I no even remember—na so so wahala I see.

No be only my sister family destroy me, when my niece grow, she even frame me say I molest am, spoil my name finish.

I feel one kind bitterness for chest. Wetin I do to deserve this kain wahala?

As I dey look this strange thing, my hand just dey tight for fist.

I wan punch wall sef, but I hold myself.

Next thing, another message drop:

"That your wicked stepmother dey come. She dey plan with your sister to chop your money—shine your eye."

Knock, knock, knock—

The knock loud like say dem dey break door for EFCC raid.

As dem drop that message, na so heavy knock land for my door.

I rush go check through the peephole, na my stepmother face I see—she dey form sad, my niece dey beside am. Her perfume strong, like cheap powder mix with camphor, dey enter my nose.

For her face, I see all those fake tears wey women dey squeeze out for Nollywood film.

"Nnamdi, open door! Your sister and her husband get big wahala! Quick!"

Her voice dey shake like generator wey fuel wan finish.

"No open o. That old witch sabi use pity to press person—no give am chance."

"But you sef no fit lock am out. She carry phone dey record. If you no open, she go use am against you."

I imagine her holding phone low for wrapper, eye sharp like ogbonge lawyer.

"Everything don change. Main character dey see the messages, now others sef dey act different, dey target am."

The messages just dey argue among themselves.

Na so one message go left, another go right, like people dey quarrel for WhatsApp group.

I see my stepmother go knock Mama Chinyere door for opposite flat.

"Mama Chinyere, you dey house? Nnamdi sister family die for accident, e no wan open door. Wetin we go do?"

My head just dey buzz.

Wahala don start. I know say if Mama Chinyere carry this story reach our landlord, dem fit call meeting for compound.

Mama Chinyere wey dey opposite, na gossip master. If my stepmother add fire, and Mama Chinyere join mouth, na to pack comot from this compound remain.

This compound wey we dey, e no dey take nonsense. Small thing, dem go hold estate WhatsApp meeting, drag person name up and down.

No choice, I open the door, waka go meet my stepmother, grab her wrapper, shake am well, eye am:

I hold the wrapper tight small, like how woman dey block market thief. I drag my voice low so neighbours no go hear my real anger.

"Wetin happen to my sister? Wetin really happen?"

Life be like Nollywood—na who sabi act dey win.

True true, if you no get sense for this kain drama, dem go use you clean ground.