Chapter 1: Under Wrapper, Under Pressure

After I run like thief for field—full 800 meters—na so I dive under my wrapper with my massage gun.

Sweat still dey my body, never dry finish, but the cool breeze for the room just dey blow small-small under my wrapper, mix with faint smell of Dettol from the last mopping. I arrange myself well, bend leg for the bed like say I dey dodge mama cane. My heartbeat dey hammer, but I no send, just press the massage gun small for my thigh, make e scatter the wahala wey dey my muscle.

Little Uncle just burst enter, no knock, voice cool like person wey dey plan wahala: “E really sweet like that?”

As e enter, I nearly jump, heart fly reach my mouth. But my face dey do like say I dey watch NTA news—my leg dey shake under wrapper, but I bone face, pretend say nothing dey happen, my voice quiver small as I answer am. I fit feel as im eyes dey run me up and down, but I no gree look am. That kind calm voice wey fit scatter your plan.

I nodded quick, like say I dey pound yam.

True-true, I no wan make am suspect anything, so I just dey nod sharp-sharp, my neck nearly break. E fit think say na yam I dey pound, but me, I dey pound enjoyment into my leg.

This massage self, e dey make body feel good no be small.

E get as e dey do person, no lie. Like say all the stress for this world fit melt inside one small machine. I just dey smile inside my wrapper, dey enjoy the small heaven wey I get before wahala go land.

Next thing, he just use im office tie—dat blue one wey I dey always iron for am—wrap am for my wrist.

Just like that, I shock. Na so tie tight my wrist, cold small, e be like magic wey I never see before. I look am, my eye wide. Na wah oh, Little Uncle!

"This one too small."

E talk am like all those aunties wey dey size meat for wedding, e no dey show mercy at all. Im eyes dey shine, e no dey play.

"And e too slow."

E squeeze the tie for my wrist, e face serious. As if na competition.

"Make I show you."

E lean in, voice low like say e dey teach me secret. I for ask which kind show, but my tongue don dry.

Ah-ah, Little Uncle, na just fascia gun o!

For my mind, I dey shout. See as person dey turn small massage matter to world cup. Na only for Naija you go see this kind wahala—everything fit turn family meeting.