Chapter 1: Wahala for Night Train

As I dey follow Third Uncle enter the green train go house, wahala suddenly start for inside the train.

The air for train thick like ogbono soup, with smell of sweat, Gala, and old engine oil mixing together. Everybody just dey mind their own, some dey hustle seat, others dey argue over change. Na so one sharp shout scatter the normal noise, and people begin stand up, dey peep. Me and Third Uncle, our body do us one kind as we see people dey rush go toilet side.

When we waka go check wetin dey happen, na half person we see for inside the toilet.

Blood dey everywhere, e even stain the faded tiles and the handle. The half-body just sidon for ground, trousers and one leg dey shake like fowl wey dem just slaughter. Some women don cover face with scarf, dey shout "Chineke!" while others dey pray under breath. My heart fly enter my throat. The stench choke.

Third Uncle sharply drag me back go our seat, him face white like person wey see masquerade for night.

The way e drag me, e nearly tear my shirt. E dey shake like leaf for harmattan breeze. If dem pour cold water for e body, e no go know. I never see am fear like this before, even that time wey dem send us security work for old warehouse, e still get small liver.

I wan talk, but Third Uncle just put finger for him mouth make I no talk.

E bend neck small, hiss between teeth, eyes red. I just lock up, follow fear. Na so train people begin murmur—'who dey shout?', 'abeg shift', 'na wetin dey happen?' But me, my body cold.

Small time, the train shake, then e stop for one bushy area.

The bush dey thick, cassava farm and stubborn elephant grass everywhere. Train whistle weak, as if the engine dey fear too. For that moment, everything quiet, only one baby dey cry somewhere, and generator sound from afar.

Third Uncle bend near me, whisper:

"Something dey this train o."

E voice low, as if e dey beg bush spirits make dem no hear us. E even look over him shoulder as e talk, eyes sharp.

"Remember, person face no dey change anyhow..."

E tap my knee, like say e dey warn me from heart. For Yoruba land, if elder talk like that, you go know say wahala big pass wetin person fit see.

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1

"No use your phone o."

The warning come quick, like slap. I just bring out my phone, na im Third Uncle stop me.

E talk for low voice say all these our modern phones dey monitor us for background. If you use am, na wahala you dey find so.

E even press my hand down, whisper again, 'Na dem fit track us with that thing. No let your spirit scatter.' I swallow, nod. I dey see seriousness for e eye, the one wey you no fit argue with.

I confuse. "Third Uncle, which kind thing be this? Why we no fit use phone?"

Third Uncle no answer straight. E just change topic. E say the thing fit copy human being well well, but e no get any feeling. If you wan use big grammar, na 'fake person' e be.

As e talk, e look up and down, scan everybody face. 'You fit dey talk to am, no go know say e no be real.' Na so e talk, voice low.

But e different from fake person. Fake person fit no kill, but this one na killer.

E bend reach my ear, 'You see, juju fit do yansh for masquerade, but this one? E get hunger for inside e eye.' My skin crawl. This kind gist, I never hear before.

So, if you see anybody for train wey e eyes dey dull or e face dey somehow, abeg, run from am.

E even add, 'No greet, no look back. If e near you, pretend say you dey pray.' For Naija, we sabi say prayer dey cover leg pass anything.

I still no too understand. "Which kain spirit dey kill like this? Even juju get reason before e vex."

Third Uncle look me, him voice dey shake: "That thing... e just born now now."

E voice crack, like old gate. For Third Uncle to dey shake talk, na serious matter. Him hand even dey find rosary for pocket, though we be Anglican.

I shock small, but I come reason am.

I don see this kind thing for those WhatsApp short videos before. If something never dey before, e no get place for nature, na that kind thing dey most dangerous. Because e go just dey attack anything around am anyhow—e dey test im power, dey find where e belong for food chain.

I remember my grandpapa talk say new-born spirit dey craze pass old one. E dey find im leg for ground, e no know who be enemy or friend.

And anything wey just born dey fear. E go first disguise, and e sabi do am well. Na that one dey make am wahala.

My mind dey run, dey check all the old tales wey I hear for village square. E be like all of them dey happen for my front now.

Normally, e suppose test am first for animal. But animal no dey allowed for train. Here, na only people full everywhere.

E be like say the thing no even get time to choose. Na whoever dey nearby na im go suffer.

But I still no get am. Which kind thing fit dey track phone signal? Na ogbanje spirit? Old bush demon? Or na man-leopard?

I dey remember those stories Mama Uju dey tell for moonlight, how ogbanje fit enter person body, or how madman for bush dey turn to animal. But this one? E pass their level.

No, those horror story creatures fit disguise as human, but dem no fit do this one. Plus, those monsters dey wicked—their victim dey always scatter, blood everywhere.

Old time story get plenty blood, but this one too neat. E different.

But the body for toilet before—the way dem cut am, e smooth like mirror. Even butcher for Mile 12 no fit slice like that.

E get one aboki for our area wey sabi use knife, but even am, e no fit slice person like that. My mind begin dey shake.

I swallow spit...

Mouth dry, my tongue heavy. Even my armpit dey sweat under cold AC.

As I dey reason am, person near us talk:

"Wetin dey happen? Why network no dey? Even police I no fit call."

The guy voice high, people near am begin nod, dey check phone like say dem go see magic network appear.

Another person laugh, "Guy, relax. Railway police dey train."

The laughter dry, like person dey try form brave. But even the voice shake small.

The first guy nod, go siddon back.

Everybody eyes dey wander, as if dem dey find spirit for roof. People begin shift leg, squeeze face. That kind tension wey you dey smell for air.

Third Uncle face come white pass before. E grab me, carry me waka comot for the carriage.

No time for argument. E push me like goat for market, e no even talk. The way e dey hurry, e no fit be normal fear.

We waka pass many carriages, until we reach where people full, then e stop.

Some people dey do born-again prayer, some dey whisper for phone even without network. I see old mama dey hold handkerchief, dey call 'Jesus, Jesus'. One aboki still dey hawk groundnut, but even him voice low, like e dey fear to disturb spirit.

Third Uncle find space for crowd, pull me sit down beside am. E face dey pale, e hand dey shake, e nails dey enter e palm.

E sweat dey roll for e forehead. E look like person wey just run marathon. I never see my uncle weak like this. Na so I understand say the wahala pass ordinary.

Me sef fear. For my mind, Third Uncle na strong man—person wey fit sleep for cemetery alone. But now, if e never piss for body, e nearly reach.

If say dem dey give medal for courage, na him for collect for our village. But this one? E shake.

Third Uncle dey look me, open mouth, but e no talk.

E just dey open and close mouth, eyes blank. Na only the sound of e breath dey rush out, like say e dey forget how to talk.

We siddon for there. I look am, talk say, "Third Uncle, I wan piss."

My voice small, but e catch am. The way e turn, I know say I don cross line.

E hold me, voice cold: "No. You no fit go anywhere wey people no plenty. Do am here—use bottle. I go cover you."

E serious, e even raise hand like say e go slap me if I try stubborn.

I look am, "No be too much so?"

Na so e give me that Igbo uncle eye, "If you no wan die, no go anywhere wey people no dey. Whether na piss or shit, do am here."

If to say na home, e for don call me stubborn goat by now. E no get time for long talk again. I just respect myself.

I no get choice, na so I do as e talk.

I dey shame, but life first. I use empty Coke bottle, Third Uncle use wrapper cover. Na so I learn say shame no dey when wahala big. If dem born me well, I go gist this story for my guys—if I survive.

As I finish, another wahala start for carriage.

Noise burst from other end. People begin rush. Even mama wey dey pray don start to shout. Na so everybody begin press neck, dey look.

I follow Third Uncle go check. Na that same man wey try call police before. Dem don cut am into two from waist.

People begin scatter, fear catch everybody. The smell wey follow the blood choke pass before. Even train staff dey shake. But the real wahala never even start. For my mind, I dey pray say make day break reach before anything worse go happen.