Chapter 3: The Return of Musa Okoye

Clang, clang. My heart jump like goat wey see masquerade. Iron door for outside open. The hinges cry, sound harsh like market woman voice. Heavy, strong footsteps dey echo for cement floor. I hold my breath. Person dey come.

As I listen, I know say no be Bello, the one wey dey bring my food. Bello own step dey slow, e dey hum old Fela song. But this step heavy—na authority full am. I shrink for corner, dey watch as the shadow dey near. Like rat wey dodge trap. My hands shake, but I lock jaw, ready for anything.

E hold Chelsea dry gin bottle, alcohol smell full everywhere. Even before e talk, the odour tell me say e no dey alright. Na man wey dey drink pain like water. E bring out cigarette, light am. The flame show him face—sharp features, jaw like stone, eyes sharp like wolf. Even after five years, I still sabi am quick. My former lover, Palm Grove Boys boss: Musa Okoye.

E face hard, but I remember when e smile dey sweet, buy gala and La Casera for bus stop. Now, e face be like person wey joy don finish. E lean for bars, dey smoke. The cell just quiet, na only small sound of burning tobacco dey there. I dey hear my heartbeat, the room tight like dream prison. Musa just dey look me, eyes never blink.

"Ngozi, long time no see." E voice low and rough. Like say e swallow stone, but small softness dey hide under the harshness. No be the Musa I used to know.

I no talk. I don forget how to talk. Even if I wan talk, pain for throat no go gree. I just lock mouth, dey measure e eyes.

"We dey move," e talk. "This place no safe again. We wan run far—money don dey. But dem no wan make I carry you follow. Everybody dey find your head."

For Musa world, life na chess, everybody na pawn. But I sabi say if dem leave me here, na death sure pass. To kill me? That one for even better. I go prefer die. Die na release. But for Musa, suffering dey sweet pass death.

"But I want your death get meaning. So before you die, you go help me do one thing."

E waka near, grip my chin, force me look am. E hand rough, grip tight, like person wey dey catch last bus for park. I try shift face, e hold me steady. E breath na pure alcohol, e presence heavy for air. The smell nearly suffocate me. My eye water, chest dey shake.

"I need make you lure Inspector Tunde come out."

E talk am like say na small thing—call your husband, make dem kill am. I just dey look am, my inside cold like early morning Jos dew. I just calm—no pride, no shame, no joy, no sorrow. At that moment, I just empty—like calabash with nothing inside. My emotion dry, my spirit lost.

E vex. Anger catch am, e slap me. E hand heavy, land for my face like thunder. I no shout, I just blink, dey look am with hollow eyes. Blood rush from my nose. The warm blood drip for my lips, tickle my chin. I taste iron for my mouth.

E pause. "I no even slap you hard..." The way e talk am, e surprise say blood dey come out. E no know say my body don weak, skin thin like nylon.

True, e no slap me hard. This blood no be from slap. I don dey sick, I know. My blood dey near surface, my bones brittle. Na sickness. For this kind place, even malaria na death sentence. The cough, fever, body pain—all join. I know say I dey sick. I feel am for marrow. Sometimes I go shiver even when sun dey shine. Death dey near. I dey smell am for sweat, see am for mirror. Death no dey fear person wey don tire.

Since I don reach my end, why I go help Musa Okoye destroy my husband? My mind dey race, dey count every reason to say no. I ready for death—if to save Tunde, I go take am.

Musa Okoye use him white shirt wipe my blood, then drag me enter him chest. E hand rough but e hold me with force, not love. My chest dey press against him, my breath dey choke. I struggle, but e hold me tight, e chin press my head. My head dey jam e chest, e no let me free. I wan cry but I swallow am.

"Ngozi, abeg hear me, hear me." E voice soft like e dey beg. "You see that small girl just now? Her name na Zainab. That year, you no born dead pikin—she survive. If you help me catch Inspector Tunde, I go spare Zainab life. If you no gree, I go make you hold her, jump inside river together..."

Those words hit me for heart. My mind blank. My pikin dey alive? Musa fit take her life just like that? The pain grip my chest, tears dey push for my eyes. I freeze, my spirit nearly commot body. I stop to struggle. Hope and fear dey fight for my chest. The thought say my child dey alive dey sweet and bitter at once. I no fit shout, I no fit run. I just dey tremble.