Chapter 2: History Dey Repeat

People dey report their work around me, my head just dey turn:

Voice dey enter left ear, commot right ear. My mind no even dey present. I dey remember as everything just scatter for my front. For my mind, e be like say spirit just dey whisper, make I do better this time.

No be say I don die before by jumping inside river?

Abi na juju? The last memory wey I get na cold water as I dey float for lagoon, thinking say I don finish. Now I dey here, alive, for company conference room. Na wah.

“MD Tunde, that’s our report.”

“MD Tunde?”

My assistant voice drag me back from the feeling say I dey drown.

Na Bose, ever-reliable, steady dey look me. She squeeze face small, like say she know say my spirit waka far.

I look around, eyes finally land for the bottle of zobo on the table:

My hand even dey tremble small. The bottle red wella, cold, with sweat for body. E still get dat new nylon scent. Na here wahala start last time.

This one na the first day wey Halima Musa start for the company.

I remember say, as secretary for the MD’s office, na she prepare drinks for this meeting, but instead of the usual tea, she bring one big bottle of zobo drink:

Everybody dey run go toilet, and the meeting scatter quick quick.

You need see as big men and women dey squeeze belle, rush toilet, dey beg God say make e no disgrace dem. Person even forget shoe for corridor. Dem no even get chance finish agenda. Small pikin wahala.

Dem blame Halima Musa, and she come meet me with tears for her eyes:

She dey sniffle, hand dey tremble, voice dey shake. I see her for corridor, her eyes red, lashes scatter, she dey hold the zobo receipt like evidence for court case.

“MD Tunde, this zobo na the latest influencer drink now. I just wan make the company dey on trend, so everybody go dey happy for work. I’m sorry, I no go try am again.”

Her lips dey quiver, eyes dey shine with real tears. She squeeze the bottle as if e go give her comfort. I nearly pity am that first time, but now I dey remember say na from this small wahala big one go burst.

She be that quiet, gentle type—always dey hide for corner:

Even when staff dey gist, Halima go just dey by window, dey press phone quietly. Her laugh dey soft, she no dey too answer people. But you see those quiet ones, na dem dey surprise you pass.

Who go believe say to just forgive her once naim go give her mind to dey misbehave?

I never suspect say small forgiveness fit ginger person like this. For my mind, forgiveness na virtue, but for her mind, e mean leverage. You see life?