Chapter 2: Femi the Prank King

Every April Fool’s Day, I dey shine my eye well well.

Because my classmate, Femi Adeoye, na king of pranks.

And his own dey always too much.

He even warn us one month before:

"Una ready? This April Fool’s Day, I go run something wey go shock una—your mouth go open reach ground!"

Everybody for group chat dey yarn say dem no go fall mugu for him hand this year. Even the girls dey warn am say make him park well, but Femi na that kain person wey go still push am pass boundary. Sometimes, e dey use his mama voice to call people for phone; last year, e pretend say him win lottery. Na so e dey.

So this morning, just as I wake up, I see message from one strange number:

[Help me, I dey inside pot.]

The profile picture and username no familiar at all. I no even remember when I add this person.

But abeg, who else fit run this kind thing? This one na Femi handiwork. Na this be the big prank wey he dey shout about?

But make I talk true, this one na small pikin play.

I look my roommates. Nobody even shake. So the prank sef no reach anywhere—dead on arrival.

Yusuf dey brush, Seyi dey check mirror, everybody just dey on their own. For hostel like ours, if prank no make person shout or run, e never hot.

I just dey wait to yab am later.

Today na Madam Miejue’s big lecture. I no fit late for that one. (Miejue na the nickname wey we give our lecturer—she strict pass headmistress for boarding school.)

If you see Madam Miejue for corridor, na you go shift. If bell ring, everybody go arrange theirself like say dem dey parade ground. I no wan collect her wahala this morning at all.

I drop my phone for bed, wash my face sharp sharp, then rush go class.

Our hostel far from class. To reach there, you go pass one corridor wey small small shops full everywhere.

If rain fall for campus, na that corridor you go hide. During exam, na there all the runs girls dey arrange. But this morning, everywhere still dey cool, except for the rowdy shopfronts.

One of the shops na breakfast joint wey people dey hail for their puff-puff—dem talk say na the best.

As I dey waka, I hear, "Oga, buy na! See as you fresh this morning, add one egg join!" E sweet me, but I still dey think about my money. But the smell no gree me pass.

Normally, I dey skip breakfast, but today as I waka pass the shop, the aroma just slap me for face. The thing choke! My body just dey drag me enter.

Na so my stomach betray me, I just branch sharply. The owner na one middle-aged man wey get full beard—rare sight these days o.

He dey call everybody 'young man' and 'my dear', his own way be say as you dey chop, e dey gist you about how him start the shop since '97. "Young man, this my recipe pass government secret, e dey my blood." I chop the first puff-puff, I no fit stop again. I finish one big basket before my sense return, pay and commot.

By the time I reach class, everywhere don full.

Some people don dey drag seat with body, and one girl dey front dey beg make person shift for her. I manage find my usual spot near window. I find my seat, bring out my phone—and freeze. Plenty new messages dey my screen:

[No chop the puff-puff!!!]

Three big exclamation marks. E be like person dey shout.

The time na 7:35, exactly when I dey wash my face.

But why I no see the message after I chop finish? And why dem talk make I no chop the puff-puff?

I dey wonder if na network wahala or my village people dey use me play. For this school, na only God know wetin fit happen on April Fool’s Day.