Chapter 8: The Pictures Speak

That time, as I see the pictures from Musa camera, my mind just cut—wahala don land.

For police work, na evidence dey talk, not mouth. But when I see those pictures, e be like jazz.

All the pictures na Ngozi own.

Every single one, as if Musa no dey see anybody for troupe—na only her fill him eye.

At first, na hide dem snap am, from outside tent—

From side, from back, even the way she dey comb hair. Like say person dey watch her every move.

Some show only half face, some just hand or leg.

For some, she dey tie wrapper, dey fetch water behind tent. Innocent poses, but the eye wey dey behind camera no pure.

But as I dey look go front, the pictures no dey hide again, na direct.

As if person tell her, "Look here." No smile, no laugh—just raw fear.

Ngozi even dey lie for bed, dey look camera straight.

She cover chest with arm, eye red, lips dey shake. The bed get old wrapper, same one wey Musa mama dey use for house. My heart cut.

But for those pictures, fear full her eye, and she no wear cloth.

My hand dey shake, bile dey my throat—shame and anger mix for my chest. The thing bite me for chest. Seventeen years old—who go protect this girl, if not us?

The thing be say, Ngozi na just seventeen years old girl.

Our law suppose protect children, but for that moment, I feel shame. Shame for police, shame for myself.

As police, evidence begin dey form for my head:

No time to waste—my pen dey shake. I dey pray say make this no be as bad as e look.

As the troupe dey town, Musa wey no get work, put eye for young Ngozi.

Even for station, dem dey talk am, but nobody get proof till that day.

He start with hide snap, then when others no dey around,

E be like say he wait till troupe people go out, then he enter tent.

He use the pictures threaten her, then force himself on top her.

Blackmail. For small town, that kain secret fit kill person heart. I dey wonder if anybody hear her cry that day.

But as I think am, two big question dey.

I write am for notebook—no erase: "Why Ngozi gree for Musa? Who else know?"

First, girl like Ngozi, wey fit drink petrol and burn herself for front of people, she go gree for Musa just because of some pictures?

A girl wey get that kain mind no be ordinary. E get as e be.

Second, as Musa dey do that kind thing to Ngozi, others for troupe no go notice?

Troupe life na close one. People dey talk. Abi dem just close eye?

Until I see the last picture.

My hand dey shake as I hold am. The air for station change—everybody quiet.

For that one, Ngozi wear the same white dress wey she use perform.

Her eye look empty, like say life don commot. She dey stand for corner, hand dey shake. Na that picture break my heart.

And the look for her face different from all the other pictures.

This one no be fear—na something else. Maybe acceptance, maybe silent accusation. Only God know wetin dey her mind.