Chapter 1: Secret Runs and Office Wahala

Years ago, I use one side WhatsApp account dey toast married woman for my office. That morning, generator dey hum for background, and the smell of fresh akara from the gate dey enter office. Back then, to dey toast person for office na risky coded run, but my craze no get brake. Na WhatsApp we dey use run coded yarns, dey drop sweet nothing for her ear like say I be local champion. Sometimes, I go sneak go press phone for office toilet—na real Naija boy wahala. Anytime I hear toilet door creak, my heart go dey race—if person catch me, na sack letter sure pass.

She gree make we see, but as I no sharp, I fall hand. She catch me for ground—face to face.

My guy, as we jam face to face for that kind secret corner, my spirit almost leave my body. She no even gree smile, just dey use that her sharp eye dey measure me like say I be thief wey dem catch for market.

The whole place just freeze, e come dey awkward die.

E resemble when NEPA take light for inside party—everybody just pause. Even air con stop, na so awkwardness full everywhere. Na only the tick-tick of wall clock I fit hear.

Honestly, shame just dey catch me. I for like dig hole enter, make ground swallow me.

As e dey hot, I dey look for where I go just disappear. Shame dey slap my chest like village masquerade for festival.

I wan find excuse, but as panic catch me, everything just burst out like confession.

I begin talk like say I dey deliver Sunday sermon for church, dey confess all my sin as fear hold me. Mouth dey run, brain no dey process—na so person go take leak secret for village square.

1

My first work na for office wey two fine babes dey. That place dey always busy, but that morning generator hum and akara smell dey mix for air, make everywhere dey alive. To tell you true, this office na design firm, but e resemble small fashion parade—fine babes full ground. Na their wahala almost make me forget my village values.

Morayo, thirty years, single, face fine, body set, but her brain dey sharp well. Morayo na that babe wey sabi her work and her package dey on point—if you see the way she go arrange her Ankara skirt, you go know say she get class. Even her voice dey always calm, but her sense fit slice yam.

I meet Morayo for one cycling group when I dey my third year for university. Na she even help me enter this design firm for Ibadan.

That cycling group na where people dey form fit-fam, but as I no get bicycle, na gist I dey follow. Morayo na OG for there; na her put mouth for my matter, carry me come Ibadan, show me small road for this design work. Na so I see work chop.

Then, na Mrs. Halima, thirty-five, face fine like say she be model, tall, leg long, especially when she wear high heel, the leg dey swing as she dey waka.

Mrs. Halima dey waka for office like those women wey dem dey show for Nollywood advert—her perfume dey smell like imported vanilla and small suya pepper—na the kind scent wey fit make person forget prayer point. Even if breeze blow, na her leg person go notice first, the thing long like new streetlight.

Mrs. Halima get money for house. Dem dey talk say her husband na one of the people wey start one company wey dey for stock market, and dem get one pikin, nine years old.

Her gist dey always land with pepper. Dem dey call her Madam for street, because her husband na real bobo, own company wey dey do big man things. Their pikin na small madam too, school uniform always neat. Sometimes, I dey wonder how e be to get that kind life.

She be family woman—mature, sabi book, dey gentle. She dey come work and go home on time, and anytime we dey talk, na her husband and pikin matter she go bring up.

If dem dey do anything for office, na Mrs. Halima dey volunteer her mind first. She sabi book well, dey talk about her son like say na trophy. For her face, you go know say she dey manage family and work with one leg each.

If this two women get anything wey join them together, na say dem get strong head and dem too like gist.

If you wan hear latest office yarn, na either of dem you go see. If Morayo dey gist, Mrs. Halima go put two cents join. If person try them, na strong head dem go use face am. Nobody dey use dem play.

Me, na just small boy for their side, person wey dem fit send anyhow.

Anytime dem see me, na “Kunle, abeg help me buy gala,” or “Kunle, e fit beta if you help me photocopy this file.” For their mind, I just dey warm seat—nothing special about me.

At first, I dey behave myself—no dey think any bad thing about them.

Dem dey senior me, so I dey use respect wash ground anywhere dem dey. No dey form anyhow, dey maintain my lane.

As office boy, na me dey run all errand. No time for woman matter or to dey reason anyhow.

From morning till evening, na run I dey run—go bank, return with pure water, arrange file. My mind dey busy, so woman no fit enter the agenda.

But for their eye, dem believe say I dey run something with the other one.

As I dey waka between both of them, dem begin dey reason say maybe I get hand for both sides. Na so office rumor dey start for Naija.

Maybe because I dey flow with both of them, wahala just dey happen.

If I laugh with Morayo, Mrs. Halima go dey form vex. If I dey gist with Mrs. Halima, Morayo go dey do like say she get another plan. Wahala just dey fly everywhere like mosquito for rainy season.

Morayo and Mrs. Halima na rivals—one deputy position dey for department, both of them dey eye am.

Promotion na serious matter—everybody dey hustle. Once that position open, two of them begin dey measure each other with eye. Office politics na full drama.

Dem dey try win me over, but I no get liver to choose side. I just dey waka on eggshell, dey try balance.

For Naija office, na who dey middle dey collect stray bullet. I dey dodge like say I be Lagos conductor for hold-up.

Morayo na correct sharp babe—she sabi plan, you no fit be real friend with am.

If Morayo show you teeth, check am well—she dey two steps ahead. Na person wey sabi use person climb ladder. Even gist, you go fear her sharp mouth.

Mrs. Halima na ice queen, quick to vex, and e no easy to near am.

Her own cold pass NEPA transformer. If you try near am, she go just use her eye freeze you. Even boss dey fear her sometimes.

One morning, Morayo shift Mrs. Halima’s file small-small for table—na so cold war dey start. One evening, after Mrs. Halima don go house, na only me and Morayo remain for office.

That evening, office quiet like exam hall. I dey tidy my desk, na so Morayo drop bag, look me with corner eye.

Morayo lock door gently, cover her mouth, come dey laugh: "Just now, Aunty Halima sit down for your front, cross leg. From where you dey, you for see everything. You see anything?"

Her laugh sharp—sound like when dem dey roast corn for roadside. The way she lock door sef, I begin dey suspect say she get agenda.

Mrs. Halima dress light that day, but I no talk—just shake head quick.

I no wan enter wahala, so I bone face like born-again. I shake head, dey pretend say I no see anything, but my mind dey run marathon.

Morayo purse mouth, no believe: "No dey form mumu. Aunty Halima like you. Where una two go last time when una waka alone?"

She dey drag mouth, dey reason me like say I be thief. Na her way—she sabi catch person lie.

I just deny am: "Sister, abeg no talk like that. If I try anything, Mrs. Halima husband go finish me."

For this Ibadan, people no dey play with married woman matter. I dey run my lane, abeg.

Morayo laugh: "You dey form innocent, abi? Omo Ibadan, I sabi your type. Before before, you dey run things, dey toast me and other girls for cycling group. You get mind that time."

Her laugh carry history. She dey remind me of all those my youthful oversabi. Shame dey catch me small.

I shy, scratch head, talk: "That time I just join, I no sabi anything, just dey follow talk. If person like me, I go try run am."

I even try form humility, dey do like say I be JJC that time. Na lie, I dey dodge wahala.

Morayo hiss: "You no get shame."

Her hiss long like snake for bush. E pain me, but I no fit talk.

I just dey explain myself, no wan talk anything wey go put me for wahala.

For my mind, I dey calculate how I go waka commot from this Morayo matter. She fit carry my gist go market.

I sabi the kind person Morayo be—if you slack small, everywhere go hear gist.

As I dey see am, na gossip chief she be. Na her type dey spread rumor for compound.

Honestly, I no too like her type, so I dey keep my distance.

If I see her for outside, I dey greet from far. Prevention better pass cure.

Next thing, Morayo bend near, whisper for my ear: "Kunle, as I dey see you so, you fit run Mrs. Halima. Why you no try see how mature woman be?"

She dey try push me enter fire, na so dem dey test person for street. I just dey look her, dey count ceiling.

I just look am, mouth open, no fit talk.

My jaw drop, words hang for throat like fufu wey no gree swallow. Na God save me say mouth no betray me.

For Mrs. Halima side, she dey reason say me and Morayo get something.

For office, anything wey person see, na so dem go take twist am. Mrs. Halima eye dey sharp, she no dey miss gist.

After all, na Morayo help me get this work—everybody sabi.

If dem dey calculate office connection, my own case dey obvious. Dem sabi who help who, na so office politics be.

One time, Morayo travel, come back, bring local snack for both me and Mrs. Halima.

She bring puff-puff and chin-chin from her village, package am well. For office, gift dey mean say person value you.

I dey busy, just leave the gift for my table.

As I dey run errand, I forget say snack dey for table. For Naija office, if you slack, another person fit carry am go.

Afternoon reach, Morayo tap her head: "Ah, I forget bring something for person for next department... Kunle, you like book, abi? I go swap one book with your gift."

Her eye sharp, she no even wait for answer. Na so some people dey do—you blink, your thing don waka.

Before I fit talk, she don carry my gift give another person, leave one old reference book for me.

This book sef na one wey I see before for library, nothing special. I just bone face, dey collect am, dey thank her like say I win lottery.

After Morayo waka, Mrs. Halima come my side, face squeeze: "Kunle, I no wan gossip, but you and Morayo dey do something."

As I see Mrs. Halima face, I know say she mean business. Na that kind look wey mummy dey give when dem catch you dey chop meat from pot.

I shock: "Ah ah, from where you hear that one?"

I nearly bite tongue. Who dey feed her that kind tori?

Mrs. Halima say: "Morayo behaviour no pure. How she go collect gift wey she give you before and dash another person? With her sense, she no go do am unless she see you as her person. Small small things dey show."

Na so she dey break down matter. For her mind, office na crime scene—every evidence dey count.

I rush explain: "Morayo no dey respect person."

I talk am with small vex, make she know say I no dey enjoy all these office drama. Sometimes, I just wan rest.

Office na real jungle—sometimes, I just weak.

Na so office dey be, especially for Ibadan—politics full everywhere, people dey find who dem go blame. Some days, I dey wish say I dey sell recharge card for junction.