Chapter 1: Wake for the Wilderness

Oga, you don wake up?

The voice yank me from sleep like NEPA take light. Standing over me, na one middle-aged man, clothes so dirty e fit blend into sand. Na that kain brown wey stubborn soap no fit wash, smell wey mix sweat, dust, and small pepper. E dey eye me with wahala face. For Naija, you sabi when person dey worry—e go show for face, no hide am at all.

I open my eyes, confusion full my head like Lagos traffic on Monday morning. All around me, na one rough tent patched with old ropes, tie everywhere. For one corner, small lantern dey struggle to fight darkness, the weak flame just dey blink like person dey wink eye.

As I try arrange myself, na that time one strange system interface flash for my mind: "Buffet." E talk say free ₦500 standard meal, chop as you like, no limitation. I rub my eyes, fear catch me—dem don dey do Yahoo for my brain? Omo, if no be hunger, who go believe this kain digital scam for bush?

The options pop up clear for my head:

Set A: one big meat, three vegetable.

Set B: two small meat, two vegetable.

Set C: one small meat, three vegetable, plus one small bottle of malt drink.

I dey look am, dey reason if na 419 or wetin. Hunger wan finish me, but this kain technology for bush—e no pure. Before I fit reason finish, the man clear him throat again: "Oga, you just faint for road. Nobody sabi medicine for our group. You dey here since yesterday. We no know wetin to do, but we thank God say you don wake up this night."

I struggle, voice crack: "Where be this place? Where we dey go?"

He rub him neck, voice low: "Na to go do government labour, oga. Na you be our leader."

"Ehn? Government labour?" My mouth open, shock wan burst my brain. Wetin bring me enter wahala like this? Abi I don cross over into another world like all those Nollywood spirit pikin?

After plenty question and answer wey dey tangle like NEPA wire, things begin clear small. I be ward head—compound chief—for Okirikpo. Dem send me with fifty people go build burial ground. The man above me na my servant, him name na Musa, proper Hausa man, face hard but spirit gentle.

As my head still dey swirl, Musa eye dey shine with concern: "Oga, make I find something for you chop?"

Na so reality slap me. Hunger dey do me like say I thief am for market.

I just nod, no fit talk. Musa waka quick, leg strong for bush.

E no tey, he bounce back with two kpof-kpof. He hold the kpof-kpof with two hands, like say na Sunday offering. Na the hard, brown, stubborn ones wey fit break window if e miss your mouth.

I look the bun, pick am with side eye: "Wetin be this?"

Musa smile, teeth show all the hunger for this country: "Na mixed grain cake, oga. Since we dey travel for more than ten days, food don almost finish. I hide these two kpof-kpof for you. By tomorrow when we reach where we dey go, maybe we go see yam or garri."

For my mind, I just dey judge the bun. E ugly no be small, e rough like old tyre, but hunger no dey allow person get pride. I bite am.

Omo! If kpof-kpof get spirit, e for protest this one. E hard so till my teeth dey shout, but as I dey manage chew, the taste begin come together, like when okra soup dey set. Hunger dey teach person lesson sha.

But e too stubborn for jaw. One try dey okay—if na everyday, na another level of wahala be that.

As I dey bite, I see Musa eye dey watch me, him throat dey move up and down. My guy dey swallow saliva like say he dey compete with fish for river.

I pause, eye am: "Musa, you no go chop?"

He just smile, humble: "Oga, abeg chop. Me, I no too hungry."

"You never chop?"

He wave am off: "No wahala, if I no chop for one or two days, e no go do me anything."

For my mind, I wan laugh and cry at the same time. See as hunger dey humble everybody for this side. Me wey get this yeye system for belle still dey here dey form.

I test the system, decide to collect one Set A and one Set C. Na the malt dey ginger me for Set C, I no go lie. As I dey always feel dry since I land for here, that malt na blessing.

I no even know how system dey work for real, but suddenly, two paper box appear for my hand. Musa face change, him eye round like torchlight. Na so e dey look me with serious suspicion, as if I be babalawo.

E shock me too, no lie. First time to see system boxed meal real life—who no go fear?

I open Set A: big stewed goat meat dey shine for center, stir-fried ugu wey green pass hope, okra, efo riro with beans round am up. Set C: tomato egg sauce, fried yam, dried fish, potato slice—correct!

I wave Musa: "Come, chop this one."

Musa eye nearly comot from socket. "Oga, where you see this food?"

See as e dey look me, honest like person wey no sabi lie. I just tire. How I wan take explain? Say na system give me? Abeg, e no go make sense for Naija setting. I just wave hand: "Abeg chop fast fast. I get more question for you."

As he see my face dey change small, e mellow.

I give am the two boxes, open the malt for myself, still dey munch my hard kpof-kpof. Musa collect the food with two hand, e dey shake like say e hold national treasure.

"Meat... white rice..." Musa nearly dey pray for food.

I snap am: "Wetin you dey look? Chop abeg."

Still, e hold am, then the next thing, he kneel down for ground, forehead almost touch soil: "Oga, you too good to me. I no even know how I go repay you."

I nearly vex. Na just boxed meal o, my guy. This one pass normal Naija gratitude, but hunger dey humble even the proudest man.

Musa reason small, then use finger carry meat give me: "Oga, abeg chop this meat."

I wave am off: "I no dey chop oily food."

Musa eye dey search my face, no understand.

I warn am: "If you no chop, I go throw am." E sharply pull the meat back, confirm say I serious, then dive into the rice, chewing with serious enjoyment.

No spoon join the boxed meal, so the thing funny for eye—Naija man dey chop rice with finger, but if hunger dey, manners dey fly window.

I watch am: "E sweet?"

"Sweet die, oga! Since I born, I never chop food wey sweet reach this one."

I nod, feeling somehow like local philanthropist. "No wahala, as long as e sweet you. Take this other box, chop am too."

Musa dey look the food for hand, like person wey see miracle for afternoon. Hunger na real wahala, but small kindness dey change person.