Chapter 2: The Burden of Repeating

Plenty people for school don get this kind daydream before:

You go see some students after exam dey do their own: head bend, dey calculate if dem go pass, dey wish say dem fit turn time back. Some even dey swear for mouth—"Kai, if only I fit go back, I go write everything correct." E be like say exam wahala na everybody share.

After exam, dem go dey imagine say dem fit travel go back before the exam, find all the answers, then come write correct paper, score 100.

Some girls for my class dey talk am like play—"If God fit give me just one more chance, I go get A1 for maths." Boys go dey laugh, dey do like say na joke, but inside everybody mind, na real prayer dem dey pray.

You fit think say na better power be this. But na only me know say—na real wahala, e fit make person craze.

No be small matter. To dey repeat life, dey see the same thing, dey hear the same talk—na real wahala. Sometimes, if I tell person, dem go think say na film trick.

Since my JSS2, I get one kind superpower wey no be ordinary—time loop.

I no even sabi when e start. Some people dey find superpower for comic, dey wish for invisible or make dem fit fly. Me, na this one God give me. If na blessing or curse, up till now I never sure.

I still remember am—na just normal monthly test. Teacher dey call scores for front. As I hear, "Ifedike, 529, 226th for the whole grade," na so I see myself land for one week before.

The voice loud, everybody turn look me with pity. Shame dey my body like wrapper. Na that moment e happen—like say breeze blow my soul comot for body. Next thing, everywhere change.

E be like say dem use juju: once dem call my score, time go shift.

The thing strong pass ordinary. I dey look blackboard, suddenly everywhere turn dark, I dey hear voice wey sound like distant market, then I open eye—boom, I don land one week before exam. Spirit matter no reach this level before.

At first, I shock, I happy, I dey ask my seatmate the date anyhow. After I confirm say I really dey one week before exam, I feel like person wey find gold.

You know that feeling wey pikin dey get if im mama buy correct suya for am after long day? Multiply am by ten. The kind joy wey dey sweet your belle reach your head.

Na cheat code for life—who no go like am?

For inside my mind, na like I win national lottery. I begin dey reason how I go use this power turn my life around.

I bring out exam paper, write down all the questions wey I miss, cram all the correct answers for that one week.

My biro no gree rest. I go library, I dey ask question like person wey wan contest for quiz. Even my classmates begin dey look me somehow—like say Ifedike don get new spirit.

When exam reach, I waka enter exam hall with full chest.

The confidence dey my step. If you see as I siddon, even invigilator dey wonder wetin dey make me smile like that. I answer everything, even the ones wey dey hard for before.

As I expect, this time my result wipe my shame—"Ifedike, 668, 25th for the whole grade."

No be small improvement. As teacher dey call my score, I fit see pride for my papa face, and my mama sef dey shine teeth.

But immediately teacher finish to call result, everywhere dark again.

Na the same cold breeze, the same heavy silence. My heart jump—wetin dey happen?

When I open eye, I dey one week before exam again.

This one no sweet me. I blink like goat wey dem pour water for body. All my plan, all my joy, na so e just vanish. Na serious wahala.

This time, I no happy like the first time. Confusion just dey everywhere.

I begin dey wonder—abeg, which kind wahala be this? E be like say God dey play with my life.

Why the loop never end? My score no high enough?

I begin dey reason am like village elders wey dey settle land matter. Maybe if I get 100/100, the thing go stop. Or I suppose learn lesson wey I never notice. But no answer dey come.

So, I begin read book die, dey push my score up. I force myself to remember every solution to the questions wey I miss, even cram the whole paper.

My sleep pattern scatter. I dey read for midnight, dey wake for morning, eye red. Even my mama begin dey ask whether I dey okay. But for my mind, I just dey run race wey nobody understand.

"Ifedike, 712, top five for the grade."

That day, people hail me well. My name loud for assembly. But joy no dey my body—only tension and fear.

But again, I land for one week before.

No matter how I try, the thing no gree end. The wahala dey increase. I dey ask myself—maybe I offend person, or na generational curse. But the more I try, the more the loop dey stubborn.

Na so fear of the loop begin grow for my body.

I dey sleep, I dey dream say I dey inside box wey no get door. Sometimes, I go dey shiver like goat wey cold catch.

I try find help—tell my papa and mama, teachers, even my padi. Nobody believe me. Dem just think say I dey under too much pressure or say my head don dey touch.

I try reach out. I write letter to guidance counselor. I call my uncle for village—na old catechist, him sabi prayer well. Dem all talk say make I rest, make I no carry school for head. But I know say my own problem pass book.

I even try prove myself with future knowledge. That time, I write down the lotto numbers wey dem go draw after school, give my form teacher the next day.

If you see as teacher look me, im eye dey like torchlight. E no even believe at first. But when the numbers begin show for NTA screen, everybody mouth open.

At first, e look me like say I dey craze. But as dem dey call the numbers one by one, him face begin change.

The man dey shake, e carry me go principal office. Dem call some people wey dey office, dey look me like I be prophet. The story waka reach higher ground.

Dem carry the matter go principal office, reach people wey dey higher up. One week later, dem carry me go Abuja with one special motor, put me for room wey dey see river.

Dem put me for one fine hotel wey dey face River Niger. Men in black suit dey waka up and down, their face strong like LASTMA for checkpoint. Scientists dey scribble for big jotter, some dey chew groundnut as dem dey watch me. I dey feel like suspect, not even special guest.

Plenty professors come dey check my brain. Dem scan, dem test, dey try find the pattern of the loop.

One oyibo woman even touch my head, dey ask me to describe how time dey taste. Another man dey speak phonetics—e say, "Temporal phenomena." Me, I just dey look dem.

From then, my life just turn to one kind: fixed routine—chop, test, sleep. Machines full everywhere, cold-eyed scientists dey look me. Dem force me to repeat the loop for lab.

Sometimes dem go lock me for glass room, dey observe me like rat. Their language dey hard, but the truth be say nobody sabi wetin dey really happen.

Dem think say dem fit solve am, but dem no understand the power at all.

Na so I dey pity dem. Dem dey write equation for board, dey analyze my blood. But this one pass wetin book fit explain. Na only God and my chi fit know.

When the loop carry me from lab back to JSS2 classroom, I lose hope.

All those big men, dem no fit help. Even government scientist no fit stop the loop. Na so I know say this thing get spiritual root, or na fate wey I must bear alone.

No be science go solve this thing. Nobody fit help me.

Sometimes, I dey wish say if na prayer house I go, maybe one prophet go lay hand for my head. But I don try, nothing change.

Even death no fit end am.

I try am. I waka enter road with eyes close, I drink sleeping tablet, I even climb mango tree jump. But any time, the thing go just reset me back. I begin fear myself.

I tire.

The tiredness no be small. I just dey look life like old papa wey eye don see finish. Even smile no dey come my face again.