Chapter 4: Something No Pure

As I see them enter room, I quickly turn on my spy cameras.

The way I dey rush plug laptop and dey connect all my screens, e be like say I dey do exam. My heart dey beat, but na with excitement.

True true, as the man enter, he throw the girl for bed, lock the door.

She just fall like sack of garri. I even look twice—she no shout, no struggle, nothing.

To watch the live feed na the sweetest part.

I dey rub my hand, dey wait for the show to start. This one na reality TV for big boys.

Every step, every move—no acting, na real life.

If you see the kain thing wey dey happen for my guest house, you go fear. Na real wahala dey Lagos.

No wonder my videos dey sell.

Who no like better soup? Na so dem dey rush my uploads. For this kind market, originality na everything.

As I dey watch the man dey undress the girl, her fine skin dey show, even me sef dey feel somehow.

E be like say my body dey respond, but I quickly focus on my business mind. Na money I dey chase, abeg.

But as I dey look, I come dey notice say something no pure.

The kain fear wey dey rise for my belly, e be like winch dey blow cold breeze for my back. This one different.

First, the girl. I don see people wey drink pass themselves, but I never see person wey just dey like log of wood.

Na so I begin dey tap my feet, dey wonder whether I dey see well. She just dey like person wey juju catch—she stiff, no move at all.

The guy carry her like say na baby, throw her for bed, she no even move.

I scratch my chin. If na normal babe, she for don slap am or at least struggle small.

Even as he dey remove her cloth, she no shake, no move hand or leg. Normally, even if person drunk, dem go move small.

E be like say na only her spirit dey room—body don run go another place.

As I dey watch am, e remind me that time for Umuahia, when dem lay Mama Nnenna for mat, her skin cold like early morning cement.

That thought shock me. My stomach turn. For this business, I sabi all kinds of mad things, but this one dey somehow.

I hesitate, wipe sweat from my forehead, mutter, "God abeg, make this no be wetin I dey think."

I hiss, try focus. I no like wetin my mind dey think.

I insult myself, sip my Lipton, but the tea no fit warm the fear wey dey my chest. I continue to watch.

My hand shake small, but I try compose. I tell myself say nothing dey happen.

But e still dey weird.

My mind dey dance makossa for my chest. Even for horror film, I never see this kain stiff body.

When the man remove all the girl cloth reach pant and bra, he pause.

I pause my own breath join. This kain suspense, even for Africa Magic e dey rare.

Na that time I notice say the man never remove any of his own cloth—cap and mask still dey.

E be like say na ritual him wan do. All these Lagos boys and their wahala!

That one no normal. I don see impatient guys, slow guys, even mad people wey dey carry drunk girls.

This one different. The calmness dey scare me pass the act itself.

But I never see person wey calm like say na dead body him dey handle.

The way e dey arrange everything, e dey like undertaker. I begin dey wish say I never allow dem enter room.

Why my mind dey always go dead body side?

I rub my face. I dey pray make devil no dey use my head play football tonight.

I knock my head, but my hand dey shake as I dey reach for tea.

I spill small for table, but I just clean am sharp sharp. No time for story.

For the screen, after small pause, the man finally start to undress.

I watch closely, my heart dey beat like Yoruba drum for oriki ceremony.

I breathe out, light Benson cigarette. Yes, na so e suppose be.

The first drag choke me, but I no send. Anything to calm my nerves now.

As I dey think say maybe the guy give her drug, but na their business. I just need make dem finish, so I go sell my video and cash out.

I try convince myself say e no concern me, but my spirit dey reject am.

But wetin the man do next make my mind freeze.

Fear catch me like hold-up for Third Mainland. I no even fit blink for two seconds.

He remove cloth reach only boxers, but mask still dey face.

This kain level, e dey pass normal Lagos wahala. My mind dey scream.

Instead, he bring out two things from his bag: nylon raincoat wey dem dey use for rainy season and nylon cap like mama dey use for market.

Who dey wear raincoat inside room for night? My mouth dey open small, I just dey look.

As he wear am, my heart jump.

Na so my leg dey bounce for floor. The kind arrangement wey e dey do, e fit pass for ritualist or yahoo boy.

No be say he wan do am?

If na only me dey for that reception, I for don run go call neighbor. But na so I dey jam wahala.

Different crime film and Nollywood horror story just dey run for my head. My hand dey shake sotey cigarette ash full my table, but my eye no fit comot from the screen.

Everything wey I don watch for film—ritual, kidnap, organ harvest—all of them dey play for my mind like DJ mix.

The man bring out more things: knife, saw... He arrange am for floor, but for my ear e loud like thunder.

I nearly bite my tongue. The way he dey arrange the tools, e be like say e don do am before. Blood run cold for my body.

Last last, he bring out big nylon sheet—like disposable tablecloth—enter bathroom. The cigarette burn my finger before I even know.

I throway the cigarette, rub my finger, dey curse softly for Urhobo. I never see this kain thing.

I quickly switch camera, zoom the one wey near the girl.

Na my hand dey shake but I steady am—no be time to fumble.

Now I fit see am well: the girl skin don white like chalk, small blue dey show.

For my mind, na so my grandmama dey look when malaria finish her. E clear say this one no be drunkenness again.

And for her neck, I see one faint mark, powder dey cover am.

E be like say na finger print or rope mark. I dey sweat like goat.

I dey hustle, but this one pass my level. Wetin I go tell God if dem catch me?

My mind freeze again. Jehovah see me! I don enter wahala!

I nearly shout, but I hold my mouth. If this thing burst, na my name go first land for police hand.

Person don kill woman, carry her come my guest house—and the way him arrange, e be like say him wan cut her up here!

E no go better for devil wey push me put camera for this place. My own don finish?