Chapter 1: Empathy Doll Wahala

My empathy doll ended up with my enemy.

Ehn, see as my own wahala take land for person wey no like me at all—Jide of all people. The thing vex me sotay my chest dey pepper. As I dey reason am, I gats go collect am back by force. But na so I mistakenly jam some bullet comments online:

[Abeg, finish me with your body]

[I just dey enjoy when enemy dey chop pepper, the aroma too sweet]

As I see those comments, na fear grip me. My mind come dey race like keke wey brake don fail. That night, sleep run from my eyes. I just dey roll for bed like snail wey salt touch.

I dey imagine say my hands and legs go break finish, then dem go throw me inside hot oil fry me like plantain. I fit even hear the sizzle for my ear, like when dodo dey fry for mama put pot. The smell of burning oil dey hang for my nose join, hot and sharp like Lagos traffic. Na true wahala I dey see for my mind. See as imagination dey waka anyhow. If person talk say dem go fry human being like dodo, na curse be that! I swear, as the thought enter, I dey shiver like say NEPA just take light for midnight.

But just as my mind wan scatter—

For darkness, I feel person softly kiss my fingertip.

1

Fear catch me, I sharply pull my hand back.

As I stretch neck look around, na only me dey the small bed. I even tap pillow, shake bedsheet, look under bed join. Nothing. But that soft touch, e too real. My skin dey crawl.

That soft touch on my finger no be my imagination.

Abi... na Jide do am?

I roll for bed all night, sleep no gree come.

Sleep be like stubborn goat wey no wan enter house. I dey toss, I dey turn. Even cover self with wrapper, e no help. My mind just dey travel anyhow. My heart dey beat, kpim kpim, like drum for Igbo festival.

After I struggle with myself, I hide for balcony, finally call am.

Body dey hot, fear dey my chest, but I still balance for balcony, make breeze dey touch me. I gather courage, dial number. Fingers dey shake small.

By mistake, na video call I press, not voice.

Ah, wahala! I for just do normal call oh. Na so hand take press the wrong button, phone no dey hear word sometimes.

Jide pick immediately.

Him room dey somehow dark, I no fit see him face well, but I hear him voice—husky, with small panting inside.

The voice get as e be, like person wey just finish run for football field. I dey wonder, shey na sleep he just wake up from, or I don disturb something?

Like say I disturb am, him tone come dey vex small.

"You better get something serious to talk."

Ah, wahala for who no get urgent matter. The vex for him tone fit scatter coconut. But me sef no gree fear, I clear throat, try act bold.

I ask, "Where my doll dey?"

Jide pause for long, then answer lazy-lazy, "I dash am to my dog as toy, wetin happen?"

As he talk that one, I grip my phone tighter, fingers digging into the case. My mouth wan mutter curse under breath but I hold am—pain just dey my chest, the insult choke.

See this boy! Dash wetin? Jide and him wahala sha. Him voice come dey lazy, like person wey just dey wake from sleep, or maybe na fake yawning.

I sabi Jide dog well, one small white Bichon, dem dey call am Coco, e gentle, always dey whine whenever e see me.

Coco dey waka with him pink ribbon, always dey form big madam—like all those small girls for Sunday church wey dey show new shoe. E no dey bark too much, na just to wag tail and dey follow person leg.

If na Coco, e fit kiss me true-true.

But those bullet comments still dey my mind.

Dem comments no just let my mind rest. I dey reason whether na human being or spirit dey waka for house.

"Abeg, no do anything bad to my doll."

I try beg, voice soft. Make Jide no go vex, do wetin go pain me. Doll wey I use keep memory, e mean pass ordinary toy for me.

Especially no throw am for hot oil fry.

I even drop joke join, but e pain me small. I no want wahala abeg, make my mind rest. Na small prayer I dey do inside me.

Jide just quiet for a bit, then hiss: "You dey think too much. Even if you stand for my front, I no go do anything, talk less of a doll."

Hiss loud like Lagos conductor. The way he talk am sef, e fit make person feel like mumu. But I just ignore am, try compose myself.

Ah, maybe he don misunderstand.

Shame wan kill me, I wan end the call.

The embarrassment heavy for my chest. I wan off the phone sharp-sharp. But God no gree, wahala still dey road.

Next thing, bullet comments flash again:

[...Oga abeg wear trouser before you talk.]

[Na sarcasm or you dey provoke? I dey see am.]

[Connection to surprise university boy, you hear? I dey connect to diamond university boy.]