Chapter 1: The Award Night Wahala

When the campus queen steal my song enter competition win award, I expose her for front of everybody.

But my childhood friend stand gidigba for her side.

"You no fit talk, and you no fit sing the song by yourself. Wetin dey wrong if Halima use am?" Tunde voice get that sharpness wey e always use argue, but this time, e carry impatience join.

"Why you dey behave like say na big thing? Worst case, abeg, just write another one." He just shrug, like say the whole matter na small play. The way he take talk am pain me reach inside chest.

Later, I follow my senior join one music show. As we compose and sing together live, everywhere burst—performance scatter, people dey shout, even social media carry am.

Dem snap us as we waka enter the same hotel together.

That night, my childhood friend rush come knock my door: "I go report you say you dey carry disabled person dey waka." His voice loud for corridor, like say e wan make all the neighbours hear. I just sigh. For this kind thing, Tunde sabi overdo pass anybody.

My senior, with bathrobe wey almost fall, just pinch my lips: "Baby, make we pretend say we deaf tonight, how you see am?"

"No be so we talk am—na to pretend say we deaf, no be say we mute." My senior wink, her laugh soft, but her eyes dey shine as she carry me enter room. I just burst small laugh for mind. For Naija, if wahala too much, sometimes na cruise go save you. But that night, as Tunde shout my secret for corridor, I know say wahala never even start.