Chapter 3: No Room for Mugu

Next day, I carry my younger cousin go Musa Okoye place.

Sun still dey low, but sweat don start for my neck. My cousin hold small courage, but e dey swallow spit every few steps. For village, to enter Musa Okoye compound na another level.

Inside, over a dozen people dey, not just our village, even people from next village join.

Compound full—everybody balance for plastic chair, some dey perch for window ledge. Card table set, cold drinks for cooler, as if dem dey do festival. The air dey thick with suspicion and excitement. Some faces I never see before—boys from down river, girls wey dey chew gum, even one old man wey dey shine eye like say e dey monitor everything.

My cousin don tell me say, if you bring person come play for Musa Okoye side, you go collect ₦10,000 referral. If the person actually sit down play, you go get ₦25,000 sharp-sharp.

For back, I hear boys dey argue who bring who, dey share code like say dem dey run MLM. For this place, na every man for himself. The lure of quick money dey scatter sense.

As I enter, Musa Okoye signal the crowd, everybody for table clear space for me. After all, man wey carry cash box na better mugu pass normal people.

He wave hand, people shift like sheep. Some dey whisper: 'E don set.' The air just change, all eyes dey on me and my cousin. Na so money dey attract attention for this side.

Everybody stand, na only Musa Okoye and Sunday Big Eye remain. Sunday Big Eye na our village boy too, but I know say na Musa Okoye boy. E mean say na two of them go face me.

Sunday Big Eye—real name Sunday Nwachukwu—na tall, quiet guy wey sabi laugh for back. But for Musa side, na him right hand. He dey greet me with smile, but eye cold like yam for basket. Musa and Sunday, na them dey control the table.

"Brother Ebuka, the rule simple: ₦5,000 minimum bet, no maximum."

Musa voice carry authority. Everybody hear am. He wan make e look like normal play, but we know say something dey under.

The guy no dey hide anything. He know say I come for payback, I know say he wan collect my money. Na who get mind and sense go win.

Everybody hold breath. For this village, na pride and sense dey settle score. Some dey hope say I go lose, some dey pray make I win. Na so e dey.

People crowd round, dey wait for show. Small pikin dey climb bench, old mama dey peep with wrapper for chest.

"Oya, Musa Okoye, share card."

I talk loud so e go enter record. Musa hand steady as he shuffle card. Sunday dey nod, finger tapping table, as if e dey count time.

First round, I get better hand, I bet ₦50,000. Sunday and Musa Okoye look their card, just fold.

I win small, people murmur. Some dey clap small, but most dey silent. For this kind game, nobody dey show true feeling.

Second round, my card no strong. I force bet ₦50,000, but this time Sunday and Musa Okoye call sharp, raise ₦500,000. I no get choice, I fold.

Money waka, people dey nod. Some dey eye me, some dey pity. For village, to lose money quick na sign say you dey overconfidence.

After few rounds, I notice something dey off. Any time my card good, dem go fold. If my hand weak, dem go raise big—over ₦500,000 once—like say dem know when I dey bluff.

I dey feel eye for my back. People dey shift chair, dey adjust position. No be ordinary luck—e get as e be.

And every time before bet, dem go dey look me well.

I fit feel the heat for my neck. Musa eye dey sweep my hand, Sunday dey check my face. E get as e be.

Abi dem dey read my mind, or dem dey see my card from my face?

I dey try remember if dem dey use mirror or any juju. For this village, anything fit happen. But something dey wrong.

This thing no pure. I gats know wetin dey happen.

I dey reason say, for this village, na eyes dey do pass mouth. If dem dey run coded thing, na now I suppose catch am. I shift my chair, check all corners.

That time, dem deal me two Kings. I bet ₦50,000.

Hand strong, but I hold body. I dey watch reaction for table.

Sunday Big Eye check him card, fold.

E no even reason am—just drop card, eye Musa. Something dey connect both of them.

Musa Okoye stare me, call ₦250,000.

He look me deep, smile small. E dey test my courage.

I reason say if him call ₦250,000, maybe him card no too strong. So I raise am to ₦500,000, dey hope say he go fear, drop.

I push my bet forward. Crowd dey murmur. I dey sweat, but I no show am.

Musa Okoye no rush show card, instead raise another ₦500,000.

No shaking. E just dey add fire. People dey hold breath.

Two Kings no be sure win. I no too happy, but I show my card.

I throw card for table, try smile. For my mind, I dey pray.

Omo, Musa Okoye get two Aces—just pass my own. But how he take sure say my hand no fit beat am?

As I dey shuffle card, I see say the card Sunday fold na two Jacks.

I dey sharp eye. E be like magic show. Something dey happen for back.

E no fit follow my ₦50,000 bet with two Jacks, but Musa Okoye dey raise ₦500,000 with two Aces, no even shake. E mean say dem know my card already.

I begin dey suspect everywhere. My mind dey turn. For village, e get as street dey run.

No, I gats change style.

I adjust my body, close card near chest. No time for long talk. I dey ready.

Next round, I hold my card close, no let anybody see. Musa Okoye and Sunday fold sharp—three times straight.

Omo, na so! As I guard my hand, dem no gree play. Crowd dey notice. I dey see confusion for Musa face.

As I turn back, I catch some people for back dey peep my card. Na there I gree:

One small boy dey use hand dey signal, another dey nod head. I catch dem sharp. My anger dey rise.

People for back dey signal Sunday and Musa Okoye. I think say dem dey read my face, but na code from back dem dey watch.

I swallow spit, dey steady my heart. E fit be sign, or coded sound. Na all of them dey inside.

No be big magic, but e dey work wella.

For Naija, coded thing dey run pass eye. Na so dem dey do. Street smart pass book smart sometimes.

Now I know why every year, all the people wey come back from hustle dey lose finish.

The game na pure setup. My cousin no get chance. For my mind, I dey pity all the boys wey go still fall.

I cough, talk:

I clear throat, voice loud. Everybody hush.

"Musa Okoye, this one too much now. We be villagers together. You still dey run this kind cheating?"

I point am direct. No more pretense. I dey vex. Dem say if you no talk, dem go chop you for head.

Musa Okoye just smile, wave make the people behind me waka. All of them scatter.

He act as if e dey settle small pikin quarrel. But his eye dey warn the boys. For village, shame dey painful pass slap.

"Brother Ebuka, na misunderstanding. No be wetin you think. We be one village—how I go cheat you? But since you dey fear, I go clear them. Now you fit play well."

E try laugh, but voice dey shake. He wan save face. For public, nobody wan collect label of thief.

I hiss, signal make dem deal card.

I snap finger, look dealer straight. I dey ready.

Finally, better card enter my hand—two Aces as my first two cards.

Luck shine for me. I no show am for face. I just dey nod.

I bend, peep the third card, tap my smart band, slam my card for table, then troway ₦500,000 on top table without fear.

People shout, tension high. My hand steady. I fit feel all the eyes for room. Now, no code, no ojoro, only raw game. For my mind, na so spirit of my cousin dey stand with me. This time, if anybody wan chop my money, e go sweat! Now, the real game don start. Win or lose, today, I go scatter their table.