Chapter 2: Money, Smoke, and Stare Down

Early the next morning, some big, rough men with heavy gold chains land for our door. As expected, Musa Okoye follow them come.

I hear the sound of their slippers from far—kpa-kpa for cement corridor. Their perfume strong like burning tyre mixed with ogogoro. The smell choke my nose, remind me of Lagos under-bridge. Musa Okoye enter last, his agbada wide, chain flashing for neck. Village pikin dey hide for corner dey peep. That kind presence dey command fear.

I no talk. I just go my Toyota Highlander boot, carry one box of cash, count ₦7 million, give the loan sharks. Dem collect the money, waka commot, no wahala.

I open the boot, air catch me with small dust. As I dey count money, every face dey watch me—no trust, no friendship, just raw calculation. When I finish, I close box, look them for eye. My hand steady, but my heart dey race. They nod, collect their share, pack am inside nylon bag like pepper seller. Once money touch their hand, wahala waka. Village people dey look from window, nobody talk.

Musa Okoye eye my new Highlander, then look the cash box wey still get money inside. E eyes light up sharp-sharp, like say lion see goat. I know say if he no see bait, he no go swallow hook.

He look me, then look car, then back to the box, as if he dey measure my worth for inside head. Village boys dey whisper: 'See as money dey talk.' For Musa mind, na new opportunity.

He smile, give me Benson cigarette.

The Benson cigarette na coded handshake—like say, 'We be men.' I collect, tap am for my palm, even though I no dey smoke. For this village, to reject handshake fit mean disrespect.

"Brother Ebuka, this thing pain me too o. I no know say our brother mind no strong—just small card game, e don break down. If to say I know, I for return am him money."

His voice too smooth, like palm oil wey no get pepper. E talk am with teeth, but eye no dey smile. I dey see the way him dey test ground, check if I dey shake.

I force myself hold the anger, but my smart band dey show red, heart rate dey mad. Musa Okoye notice the thing, come lean look. I quickly remove am.

I adjust sleeve, tuck band inside pocket. For this village, to show weakness for front of person like Musa, na big mistake.

I no wan make am see how vex I dey:

I swallow spit, calm my breath, fix my eye for am. My body dey boil, but I no go give am the satisfaction. Na so elders dey warn: 'If you fight mad man for market, people no go know who be who.'

"No be your fault. He be grown man. If he gamble, he suppose ready lose. I just wan know why the money reach like that, why e borrow all this killer loan, why e jump river—wetin really happen?"

I ask am direct, make e know say I no dey here for play. My voice low, but steady—like lawyer wey dey wait for cross-examination.

"I no sabi that one o. No ask me."

He twist face, mouth tight, like person wey chop bitter leaf. Everybody dey watch for reaction.

Musa Okoye face change small:

He shift body, one eyebrow high, eyes narrow. For street, that look mean make I check myself.

"But if you wan know, you fit come my side see for yourself."

He drag cigarette, blow smoke for my face. The thing pepper my eye, but I no blink. Him stare long, like say him dey weigh my backbone. I no shift.

I hold my vex, brush am hard with my shoulder as I pass:

My shoulder touch am, I hold ground. People around dey gasp small. For village, that one mean say I no dey fear anybody. My chest rise, I waka pass am like elder wey dey dismiss stubborn pikin.

"No wahala, I go come."

I talk am loud, so everybody for veranda hear. No shaking.

Musa Okoye stagger, troway cigarette for ground, crush am, point me:

He no like as I stand ground, but na pride dey hold am. E point finger, his men nod. Tension thick for air.

"I go wait for you."

He spit for ground, then waka slowly to him motor. Na silent challenge, all the village boys dey notice.

He just enter him Range Rover, start engine, waka comot from my uncle house.

Engine roar like thunder. Dust fly as him motor reverse, leaving tyre mark for sand. Small pikin run go touch Range Rover back, just dey look.