Chapter 1: The Wahala House Hunt

When I just finish school, money no dey, so I no get choice but to find house wey I go share with other people.

Ehn, that time, e be like say everywhere dry. I dey waka for street like person wey thief but na only poverty dey pursue me. Sun dey beat my head, okada dey splash gutter water, but na so I dey waka from street to street, dey hunt for any room at all—even if na one corner for one old building. For Lagos like this, if you see cheap house, hold am tight. Some people dey manage store, some dey sleep for corridor. Me sef, I no get any option, so my eye red—any house wey cheap, na there I go manage.

When I discover say all my seven roommates na women, fear catch me. My mind dey shake, I dey reason whether make I still enter the house. But the rent cheap no be small, so I just gree.

You know say, for Naija, if you see rent wey resemble give away, you go suspect wahala. As I hear say na only me be man among women, my leg nearly weak. For my mind I dey calculate: if dem accuse me of anything nko? For my mind, I dey picture all those WhatsApp broadcast—“See this boy, na him dey thief our pants!” But as money no dey, hunger beat fear commot for my body. I carry my bag enter.

Everyday, I go dey hear men and women dey gist and laugh for other apartments, my mind go dey like say I do some kind heavy bad thing for my last life.

E dey always be like temptation, abi na punishment for past sin. Some evenings, I go dey hear couples dey play love song, dey laugh for veranda, but my own na to just bone face like security man. Sometimes, e be like say the devil dey use me shine.

"Okechukwu, you wan follow us go?"

I point myself, shock dey my face. "Me? Follow una? E sure for you so?"

I never ready for the kind wahala wey dey come, but sometimes you go just gree for anything make people no talk say you dey form. As I look them, my belle do gbim gbim like juju drum.