Chapter 2: Wine, Swords, and Street Sense

To collect those four weapons, to fight and kill go quick pass. But truth be say, I too lazy. Lazy to draw blade, lazy to fight, lazy to kill.

Some people dey see am as weakness. Me, I call am smart man sense. I no get time to dey explain for police station say na self-defense.

So I decide say I go use another way keep my promise.

I reason say e fit work—Naija wahala get different solutions, no be only fight. If mouth fail, na leg go save you.

The first weapon na sword. Lukman Sanni—the most popular swordsman for Makurdi.

Him name loud for street, even conductor dey fear am. Dem say na only him fit cut broom with sword and still make am useful.

When e small, armed robbers destroy him village, finish him family. He waka up and down until the head of Sword House carry am. He swear say he go remain loyal for life, and by seventeen, he don become the best swordsman for the house.

Dem say na small pikin with old man mind. The way he fit use sword, na only movie go fit show am well.

But later, he wan pursue better sword skill, so he try leave to follow another person, breaking him oath. The head of Sword House no gree, so Lukman Sanni point sword at him former oga and even kill some people from the house.

For Naija, breaking oath dey heavy pass police case. E dey follow you like shadow for day, nightmare for night.

For the blacksmith eye, this one na disloyalty.

He no fit forgive. For am, loyalty na everything. For my mind, I dey pity Lukman small, but work na work.

When I see Lukman Sanni, he dey drink kunu for one buka.

The buka na wooden shed, people dey chop, fly dey disturb table. Sun dey burn skin, but Lukman no send, him dey for corner like chief. The buka woman dey fry yam and plantain together—oil dey jump, pepper dey choke nose.

"You sabi enjoy yourself well," I talk, carry palm wine come, then sit down for him front.

I let the wine show for bottle, make am dey shine for sun, so e go look like special offering.

"Who you be?" Lukman Sanni look me up.

Him eye sharp, no smile. Sword dey close, hand never far. E be like say na only sword be him friend.

"Timi Ayoola. I come make you drink." I smile, pick two cups, pour wine inside.

I pour am with style, like say we dey for ceremony. E good to respect man wey fit cut your shadow.

"I no dey drink wine wey another person offer." He pick both cups, turn am upside down, pour the wine for ground.

E pour am slow, the wine dey soak ground. Some people for background dey look, dey whisper. Na big wahala if man reject your wine for public. People dey look me, dey wait to see if fight go burst.

"Why you no treat me instead?"

I talk like say na play, but for my mind, I dey watch him hand.

"I fit treat you."

He talk am, but eye no blink.

"Correct!" I grin.

I clap hand small for table. If you no gree, no wahala—Naija street no be for forming.

"I invite you to comot."

With that, he continue with him kunu.

Him voice get finality. If na another person, dem go stand up, but me I no dey quick tire.

"First time I dey see person wey no happy to chop free wine. Dem talk say swordsmen dey do anyhow, e sure true," I sigh. "Luckily, me na blade I dey use."

I lean small, dey look am from up to down, still dey smile.

"You dey talk too much."

He frown small, drink kunu, like say my presence dey make am vex.

"She dey talk am too." I smile.

I tap my chest, face dey play, but my mind dey sharp. My heart dey drum, but I dey smile like say nothing dey. For Naija, to win person trust, you go use story.

"She?"

Him eyebrow rise. Na like when person dey hear gossip.

"My babe."

I drop the wine pot and knock the table.

I tap table, make sound scatter, so people go look us less. Small show na distraction.

"Lukman Sanni, I want your sword to take buy blade for my babe."

I talk am with smile, but voice dey straight. Na to clear matter, no hide.

"Your head dey touch?" he talk, eye me one kain.

The way he look me, e be like say e dey measure my madness level.

I laugh. "I sure say many people don try collect this your sword."

I rub hand for back of my neck, dey look the handle of him sword.

"All of them don die."

He no talk am with pride, na warning.

"You want make I die join?" Lukman Sanni look up again, coldness for him eye.

If na film, na here dem go play suspense music.

"God forbid." I pour myself wine.

I sip small, clear throat, dey calm myself. No be everything be fight.

"I know say you wan leave Sword House and kill the oga because one Shehu Musa promise to teach you better sword skill."

I drop the words slow, dey measure am, dey watch im face change color like traffic light.

As I talk am, anger start show for Lukman Sanni face.

Him jaw lock, him finger dey tap the table. E be like say memory dey boil.

"He deceive me. He no fit teach me anything. All him sword skill na wash, so I kill am, throw him body for bush."

Him voice low, but the pain inside loud. Eye dey red, mouth dey shake small. Some stories no fit clear for lifetime.

Him eye dark, pain dey inside.

For that moment, even breeze no dey. Everybody for buka dey pretend like say dem no dey hear.

"Nobody dey this world again wey fit teach me the best sword skill."

He look ground, the sadness heavy like rain cloud for July.

I drop my cup, smile. "If I say I fit teach you, you go give me your sword?"

I try talk am like play, but serious for eye. If e gree, na better story.

"You? Lukman Sanni eye the blade for my waist. "You no even get sword—wetin you wan teach me?"

He look my waist, laugh small. Blade dey there but e never see light for long.

"Sword, blade—any weapon na the same. The koko no be the shape."

I cross my leg, dey balance for chair. For street, na sense dey win, no be biceps.

I wipe my mouth with my sleeve. "I go teach you one sword move. If you sabi am well, you go dey unbeatable."

I talk am with confidence. Even if e no be true, the hope fit ginger am.