Chapter 3: Lounge Tension and Broken Bottles

I record everything as evidence. Next thing, I hear shout: “Wetin you dey do there!”

My hand quick press record, but my heart almost jump comot for mouth. The shout loud, the bass for the music stop small. E be like say breeze blow enter my shirt.

I turn, na waiter catch me.

The guy strong, e face tight. Na those kind waiter wey sabi fight, eye red, voice no soft at all. As e see phone for my hand, e don dey suspect me.

Fear catch me, I sharpaly send the video give my WhatsApp backup, then hide the chat.

My mind dey race, finger just dey fly for screen. I quick quick forward the clip to backup, then lock my phone. If to say dem catch me before I send am, na wahala.

I bone face tell waiter, “I dey find person.”

I try do like say I no dey shake, mouth tight. For Naija, if you show fear, dem go double the pressure.

But the guy no gree. As e be illegal joint, e hold my hand tight, dey para, say make I show am my phone.

E twist my wrist, voice sharp: “Oya, unlock your phone! Wetin you dey record?” I know say e dey try save him job too. For this business, if customer drag police come, e fit lose work.

Our wahala quick draw attention from inside the private room.

Before I fit explain, door don open. The crowd for the room don gather, everybody dey look our side. E be like say na play we dey act.

Door open, Benz owner come out. As e see me, shock hold am: “You dey craze? Wetin you dey find here!”

For one second, e eyes dey red, voice high. E no expect say I fit follow am come this place. Everybody dey watch, girls dey giggle, tension dey.

Him talk just vex me. I tell am, na you dey craze. Wetin I do you, why you no gree pay my money?

I just face am straight, no smile. For front of all him friends, e no fit form again. I gats show say I no be person wey dem fit run anyhow.

I say, you get money reach like this, you still dey owe small change. You no dey shame?

As I talk am, some of the girls hiss, another one laugh cover mouth. One girl snap finger, “Abeg, na only two naira?” E pain am as everybody dey look am. Even the small barman for back dey shake head.

Benz owner shame catch am for front of everybody, but because e don drink, instead make e settle, e use drunkenness do gra-gra, push me, shout, “You dey disgrace me because of small change? Na small money I dey lack? Say I allow you drive me, no be business be that?”

The push heavy, my shoulder hit the door small. For inside lounge, ego high pass sense. People like am no dey take correction unless crowd dey.

I grip my fist.

Hand dey shake small, but I just dey look am eye to eye. If no be God, na today wahala for blow.

God, abeg cover me. Make dem no catch me for this wahala.

Small money.

Na this small money make people like us dey hustle day and night.

If person never work from morning till night, e no go understand as two naira fit pain. E fit mean lunch for person pikin. Me, I dey count every kobo—if I miss two naira today, tomorrow another person go run me street.

Earlier for car, I hear person call Benz owner, dey ask about work for him factory. I remember am well.

The voice for back seat dey beg for job, dey talk say him wife dey house, pikin dey sick. Benz owner just dey laugh say make e come, dem dey pay per part.

E talk say, each part na three kobo.

I dey wonder how person go dey hustle for three kobo per part, still, oga dey throw money anyhow for club.

For two naira sixty, worker go do eighty-six parts. But for Benz owner, na pocket change.

Imagine, to earn two naira sixty, person gats sweat for hours. But oga fit drop am as tip, or even forget say e no balance.

Small thing like this, e no gree pay—but e go waste thousands here.

Sometimes I dey reason, say na this kind people dey run Nigeria. Dem no dey see poor man struggle at all.

As dem dey talk, na true the old saying be: “Rich man dey chop meat and wine, poor man bone dey freeze for roadside.”

I remember my grandma for village, e dey always talk am anytime dem dey share meat for soup. "Na rich man chop head, poor man manage tail."

Workers dey sweat for assembly line just to get ten naira per hour.

Sun dey beat person, fan no dey. As you dey wipe sweat, you dey pray make salary no lost. But see oga dey jolly for lounge, dey use hundred naira buy ice.

Oga dey lounge with girls, dey pop Hennessy, dey blow thousands in one night.

One bottle of that drink fit pay three months NEPA bill for our compound. E pain me as I dey see how life dey play people like ludo.

Waiter come talk: “Oga, e be like say e dey record. Make we check him phone.”

The tension high, everybody dey look me. Waiter eye don red, e dey fear police wahala.

Benz owner freeze, quickly signal him boys for room.

I see two big guys for corner just stand, chest out, eyes strong. As soon as oga nod, dem rush me.

Music stop. All him guys rush out, face strong, come pin me down, dey drag my phone.

My back hit wall, hands dey squeeze my wrist. Dem grip my phone, voice high, “Oya unlock!”

I hold am, dey beg dem make dem no use force, but Benz owner don vex, e slap me hot slap.

The slap loud, even DJ stop music small. My ear ring like church bell, but I gree stand my ground. My eyes see spark. That kind slap wey go reset your sense.

The slap weak me.

For inside my head, e be like say everything quiet, only my breath dey loud. I wan talk, but words no come out.

My body want fight back, but Benz owner bend near me, voice cold: “Try am, make you hit me. Just try.”

E eye me like say e dey wait make I lose guard. Everybody dey watch, tension for the air fit cut with knife.

I dey breathe heavy, dey try calm myself.

My chest dey rise, sweat dey roll for back. I just dey bite teeth, dey tell myself say if I do pass my level, na police go drag me instead of am.

E dey smile, “I fit slap you as I like. Even if I slap you reach twelve times, e no go move me—na just one night money. But if you try touch me, you fit pay? You fit carry the wahala?”

As e talk am, everybody nod. Dem know say for Naija, na money dey talk. Poor man wahala dey always loud pass rich man own.

Shame just full my body.

My neck dey hot, my hand dey shake. All eyes dey my side, nobody even talk. For my mind, I dey curse say na this kind world I land.

E talk true.

No be lie, e get the power. If police come, na me dem go first bundle unless God run am for me.

E fit slap me, insult me, e go pay am.

For this kind country, as long as you get money, na only pride you dey buy. If e slap me, na to settle with small brown envelope.

But if I try fight back, na me go suffer. I get family, I no fit carry criminal record.

I dey think about my mama for house, my pikin wey dey wait for me to bring bread. If dem arrest me, who go help dem?

Even poor man slap rich man for road, e go think am well. Last last, na to beg police, dey pray make rich man pay compensation and apologize.

Everybody go advice you: “Make you calm, poor man no dey win fight for station.” Even if na your right, you go beg tire, dey do gra-gra, dem go turn you to example.

As you poor, you no get right to fight back—even if dem beat you, because you go spoil your pikin future.

E pain me say I dey think about my future for inside lounge, but na so Naija dey teach person sense. If to say I fight, tomorrow I no fit renew my Uber registration.

Dem collect my phone, press my hand make I unlock am with fingerprint.

My finger dey shake as dem press am for sensor. One of the boys dey hiss, another dey whisper, “No try nonsense, or I go break your hand.”

After dem check, their face come change, hand the phone to Benz owner.

E scroll fast, eyes dey shine. E check gallery, then check chat. One girl for corner dey peep, dey chew gum, dey laugh.

E check my messages, raise hand, give me another slap. “You get mind record me.”

This second slap loud reach outside. I see stars. My mouth bitter, but I no gree cry.

E clear my photo album, delete even recently deleted.

E dey sure say e don finish me. E dey laugh, eyes red. One guy tap am for back, say, “Oga no vex, e no go happen again.”

Luckily, I don already send the video to my WhatsApp backup.

As I dey think, I dey thank God for small sense wey enter my head. Even if dem delete everything, evidence still dey.

Waiter vex, hold me, dey drag me out, cold voice: “Follow me.”

E hand strong for my shirt, e no even look my face. For my mind, I dey pray make God just touch their heart, make dem no carry me go corner beat me.

I sabi say e wan carry me go their own corner. Places like this dey always get one bouncer wey dey control things.

If dem fit lock you for cold store, dem go do am. Many times, na inside staff toilet dem dey settle matter. My leg dey heavy, but my mind dey ready for anything.

But Benz owner stop am, dey laugh, “Wait. Make we teach am lesson.”

The laughter no reach him eye. Na that kind laugh wey dey hide wickedness. My body cold small, but I gree say if na wahala, I no go gree easy.

E be like say e be regular for here. Waiter reason am, then nod, “Oga, abeg no too overdo.”

Waiter just dey look am, dey bounce leg. Dem get their code for this lounge. If e cross line, e fit spoil business.

As e talk finish, dem drag me inside private room.

The AC cold pass my bone, my leg dey shake as dem push me enter. The whole place smell like perfume and expensive drink.

Harmattan breeze dey blow, dust dey enter eye, but for inside, AC dey freeze bone. As door close, Benz owner sharply kick back of my knee.

My leg fold. I land for ground, pants dey scrape tile. E pain me but I bite tongue, no shout.

I fall, dem force me kneel down for front of all the girls.

Dem no even pity. Two of them cross leg, dey press phone, others dey snap. For their eye, I be film trick, not human being.

The girls sit down for sofa, cross leg, dey laugh as dem see me disgrace.

One girl snap video, another dey do like say e dey adjust wig. Dem dey laugh, voice sharp like knife. Na so dem dey take do, if e no happen to dem.

I try stand, dem press me down again.

The force strong. The guy hold my shoulder, e thumb press my skin, pain shoot my bone. Still, I gree kneel—if not, na more slap go land.

Benz owner waka go meet the girls, sit down for sofa, look me with cold eye: “Why you record?”

E cross leg like king, face dey cold. E fit be lawyer with the way e dey size me up. I dey try find voice.

I dey breathe hard, I talk, “I wan record you, post am online.”

My voice dey shake, but I gree talk true. Everybody dey silent, only the hum of AC dey loud.

I no mention say I don call police.

For this kind matter, no be everything you gats talk. My mind dey race, my eyes dey watch every move.

Because today, nobody go escape.

Even if I go chop beating, e no matter. I don make my plan.

E click tongue, sigh, “Just because of two naira sixty, you wan expose me online? You no well. No wonder you end up as designated driver. People like you no suppose make am.”

E spit the last words like bitter leaf. One girl cover mouth, another whisper for ear. My chest dey rise, but I hold myself.

The girls shock.

Their face show surprise, some dey pity me small, but no one talk. E dey funny how pity dey quick vanish for this country.

“Oga, na because of two naira sixty?”

One girl eye me up and down, as if e dey size my worth with price tag.

“Chai, I no go even bend pick that kind money for ground.”

E talk am, then hiss. For their mind, money no be anything, but for my side, e fit feed person pikin for two days.

As dem dey laugh me, I bow head, bite my teeth.

The pain dey heavy. My palm dey sweat, my neck dey hot. I dey pray make police quick reach.

All these runs girls.

Dem fit dey form level now, but na another struggle go meet them for road later. Today dem dey shine, tomorrow dem fit dey beg for Keke napep.

After rich man don use dem finish, dem sef dey feel say dem get level.

For lounge, na who dey buy drink naim be king. Once bottle finish, dem go shift to next table.

These lounge girls dey enjoy men wey dey throw money, but outside, plenty normal girls dey happy just to get two naira sixty discount for takeaway.

True talk. For Bukka, girls dey price rice to nearest kobo. Dem dey struggle too, but dem no dey look down on anybody.

That time, one customer just talk, “Guy, na why I dey talk say, na chief easy pass, na the small devil hard.”

The voice loud, e dey try make people laugh. For Naija, na small devil dey always get wahala pass chief.

I turn face am, eye am well.

I dey size am. My eye dey hot. For my mind, I dey reason say, na who be chief, who be devil for this lounge?

Small devil hard pass?

Dem dey call me wahala, but I dey find my right. For Naija, if you fight for your own, dem go tag you bad belle.

Na my money I dey find. Why I come be ‘hard-to-deal-with small devil’? Why for their mouth, na me dey worry dem?

Sometimes, justice dey get two face. If you poor, you dey always be devil for other people eye.

Benz owner hiss, “I dey always talk am—na money dey make devil grind pepper. You want money? I get am. I go give you.”

E roll eye, e voice high. E dey show power, like say money dey solve everything.

E pull wallet. For this mobile money era, e wallet just full cash.

The wallet fat like meat pie, full of fresh notes. One girl even lick lips as e open am.

Girls eyes shine as dem see am.

If light no dey before, na the cash go bring am. For their eye, na only who fit spend dey reign.

E pull out plenty hundred naira, dey tuck am inside girls’ bra.

As e dey do am, some dey giggle, another dey snap selfie. For their mind, e be like bonus for showing face.

The girls dey blush, dey form, “Thank you, oga.”

Dem dey hail am, voice soft. Some even call am 'daddy.'

E put two hundred for each girl, then turn to me: “See? If you fit say ‘thank you, oga,’ I go give you two hundred, then make you comot.”

E dey try mock me. E no understand say na pride dey push me, no be hunger.

I say, “I no want two hundred. I want my two naira sixty.”

The lounge cold, everybody pause. My voice cut the air like blade.

I just talk my mind.

Na my right I dey fight for. E shock dem say poor man fit talk back.

But everybody burst laugh, like say I talk big joke.

The laugh loud, even DJ fit hear am for booth. My body dey shake, but I no gree show am.

Na funny?

Maybe dem feel say na play, but my heart dey bleed. Life no suppose hard like this.

E no funny reach me.

Dem fit dey enjoy my pain, but deep down, I know say na me get last laugh. Police dey road.

The girls laugh till belle pain dem, dey lean on Benz owner, dey shake.

One girl almost fall from sofa, another dey wipe tears. The way dem dey laugh, e be like I naked for street.

One guy hold laugh, say, “Guy, e dey run you street. You don slap am twice—na why e dey talk anyhow.”

The guy voice deep, e try cover laugh but e mouth wide. Na dem dey always ginger oga for evil.

Benz owner reason am, slap him own head, “Na true, I don drink forget.”

E act like say e just remember. Everybody dey nod. For lounge, alcohol dey control sense.

E pull more cash, bigger bundle.

The money full hand. E dey shake am, girls dey open eye, dey pray say e go share am.

“Every slap na one thousand. Here, take two thousand. No be money you dey find? Take am.”

The bundle land for table with gbam. E dey do like say e dey pay for my dignity.

E use the money slap me for face.

The pain and insult strong. My face dey hot, my mind dey boil. But I gree collect, my hand stiff.

The money land with sound.

E do am with force, make e pain me. People dey watch, some dey record.

E talk, “Your money—I don give you. But my face, you must return. You be money-hungry rubbish. I dey buy my pride with money.”

E voice sharp, e finger dey shake. For this kind man, na only ego dey matter. As long as e fit buy your respect, e go sleep well.

E point drinks for table: “Today na my birthday, I wan jolly. Drink one beer, I go give you hundred naira. I give you two thousand, drink twenty bottles, hail me ‘happy birthday, oga,’ then you fit go.”

Everybody begin dey shout, dey ginger. Dem dey wait for new drama, as if na football.

One girl giggle, “Oga sharp, make am drink free beer, no be Hennessy.”

She raise hand, dey shake opener for air. Her voice sweet, e dey try make oga smile.

Benz owner slap her yansh, laugh, “Hennessy na twelve hundred a bottle. E reach to chop am? Go open beer for am.”

The slap loud, the girl giggle. Everybody dey hail oga, dem dey worship money.

Girl rush open opener, dey pop beer one by one.

E open like five at once, table dey wet. The smell of beer dey mix with perfume. I dey choke small.

I dey pant, I talk, “I no go drink.”

My mouth dry, but I gree talk. My hand dey ball to fist.

E ask, “Wetin, e no do you?”

E face serious. Dem dey watch, dey wait for drama.

I look am for eye: “I no want your two hundred, or your two thousand. Na my two naira sixty I want.”

I talk am slow, steady. The room freeze. Even the girls no fit laugh.

This time, nobody laugh.

E shock dem. For their mind, money dey solve everything, but I gree break their logic.

Girls dey look Benz owner, fear dey worry them. Him chest dey rise, one girl rush talk, “Oga abeg calm down. No follow mad person argue.”

One girl try pacify am, another dey touch him leg, dey whisper say make e no waste time for person wey no get sense.

I no fit understand their logic.

E dey like say as I reject money, I dey disgrace dem. But for my mind, I dey stand for my dignity.

I dey find my money—dem dey vex.

E funny say na me dem dey blame. For Naija, if you too fight for your right, dem go call you enemy of progress.

I reject their ‘compensation’—dem say I dey craze.

One of the boys hiss, “Na poverty dey worry am.” Another just dey shake head, dey look me like I be goat.

For their eye, poor man no get pride. As long as dem dey spend, poor man suppose surrender everything.

Na the way society dey run. If you broke, dem fit use you shine. If you gree, dem go say you humble. If you no gree, na wahala.

Nobody send justice.

Justice na for who get leg. Even if police come, e fit settle for bar.

But me, I care.

If I no stand for myself, tomorrow dem go run another person. Na small sense dey change system.

Benz owner breathe deep, but e no fit calm. Vein dey show for neck, e dey grind teeth: “You no wan drink? I go force you.”

E stand up, chest out. For him mind, na today e go show everybody say e fit do anything.

The pride don comot for him body. E grip my jaw, carry beer bottle, force am for my mouth.

The grip strong, my neck dey bend, mouth dey pain me. The beer cold, the bottle dey wet.

I try lock mouth, but bottle dey tear my gum. Still, I no gree open mouth.

Pain dey bite my lip, but I bite tongue, dey pray make e quick tire.

Dem force me kneel, bend my head, dey pour beer.

My shirt dey soak, beer dey run for neck. My knees dey pain me as I dey kneel for hard floor.

My mouth full blood. Beer dey enter. As dem force open mouth, beer dey rush my throat.

My belly churn, beer and blood dey mix, but I no gree break.

Blood mix with beer, my throat dey burn. The taste bitter, my eyes dey hot with tears.

I begin cough. Pain hold me, but Benz owner grab another bottle, dey force am, dey shout, “Who you be? You poor fool, you no even deserve to sit with me. I dey give you drink, you dey form.”

The room dey loud, voice dey echo. Dem dey record, dey mock. Na so rich man dey take show power.

Beer dey enter my windpipe. I dey cough scatter, beer dey come out my nose, my eye dey water. One person shout, “Abeg, slow down, make e no die. Him life no reach make you enter jail.”

That one na sense voice. Even for this Naija, nobody wan enter cell because of poor man. Dem dey fear police wahala pass devil.

Na so Benz owner leave me. I fall for ground, dey vomit, dey suffer.

My shirt dey soak, my body dey shake, my mouth dey bitter. Girls dey shift body, dey avoid make vomit touch dem shoe.

E no send my life—na jail e dey fear.

As e dey walk off, I hear am whisper, “I no get that kind wahala.” For Naija, freedom better pass pride sometimes.

For him eye, our life no dey equal. My own no reach him own.

Even if I die here, na only 'sorry' dem go talk. No be news for person like am.

But anger still dey worry am. As e see me dey vomit, e grab empty beer bottle, break am for my head, shout, “No dey vomit!”

The sound sharp, bottle scatter. My head dey ring. For a moment, everywhere black.

My hand dey shake, but anger strong pass fear. The bottle heavy, but my pride heavier. Bottle scatter.

Glass cut my scalp, blood dey drop for shirt. One girl scream, another cover face. My hand dey shake, my eyes dey roll.

Glass dey fall from my hair. Benz owner press broken bottle for my skin, dey breathe hard: “You disgrace me today. You know say your life no reach my pride.”

The edge sharp, pain dey bite my neck. I dey try no cry. People dey snap, dey whisper.

I look am, talk soft: “Person wey no fit pay two naira sixty—wetin be your pride?”

I dey whisper, but my voice cut air. For once, e look me like say I mad.

E shout, “I get money die! You no dey see?”

E grab more money, dey shake am for my face. Everybody dey silent, only e voice dey ring.

I say, “All I sabi be say you no fit pay me my two naira sixty.”

Na my last word. I dey ready for anything. My hand dey tremble, but my mind dey free.

One girl talk, “Oga, this one dey craze. Just throw am out. Na your birthday—no let am spoil am.”

Her voice low, e dey beg. Some girls dey nod. E fit be say dem don tire for drama.

Some men dey craze two times: when dem drunk, and for front of woman.

My papa dey always talk am. Now I dey see am for real.

Benz owner na that kind man.

If woman dey, e go do pass him power, just to show say e be man. When drink enter, na double wahala.

Now, woman no dey sweet am again. E turn, shout for the girl, “Who you be, dey tell me wetin to do!”

The girl shrink, voice low. No be today she see wahala for lounge.

The girl shake, quiet.

Everybody just dey look ground. Even the bold ones quiet, dey play with straw.

All the girls for sofa bow head, no fit talk.

Nobody wan chop slap. For Naija, once man vex, everybody dey step back.

When rich man dey jolly, dem feel say dem belong. But once rich man vex, dem remember say dem be nothing.

As my mama go talk, “Na money dey give person voice for this life.” Once the spender stop, everybody turn statue.

Benz owner face me, vex dey worry am, e dey grind teeth: “You do all this wahala because of two naira sixty? Fine, na because I no get change, if not I for give you fifty-two earlier.”

E dey try explain, as if e dey do me favour. My head dey bleed, but e dey count kobo.

E pull hundred naira, hand am to me. “Take hundred, forget the rest. Bow and apologize, you no go drink, take the two thousand, make we end am.”

The money cold, my hand dey tremble as I collect. The blood wey dey drip for my head dey stain the note.

I collect the hundred.

Everybody dey watch. E dey wait make I bow, but I stand straight.

E dey smile, “So na money you dey find after all.”

E dey try mock me, voice loud. The room dey quiet, nobody talk.

But smile freeze for him face.

My own smile dey small, but I dey ready.

Because I reach my pocket, bring out change.

I dig deep, small coins jingling, sweat dey my palm. Everybody dey watch, dey wait.

I count ninety-seven naira, drop am for table.

The coins roll, notes squeeze. I dey arrange am make e count.

Then I carry phone, open bank app, use the number wey e take call me, find him account—profile picture match.

I dey show everybody, make dem see say na true.

For him front, I transfer forty kobo to him account, talk serious, “See your change. I no go apologize.”

My voice firm. The transfer alert ping for him phone. Dem girls mouth open.

My action just scatter Benz owner head.

E dey shake, e dey bite lip. E try talk, but words no come out.

E shout, “You dey mad! Wetin you dey form!”

E voice crack. For inside him mind, e no fit believe say poor man fit shame am.

E kick me. Him boys pin me down, force me kneel for him front.

The force strong. My knee dey pain me. For my mind, I dey say, “No break.”

E carry bag, pull more cash, dey throw bundle after bundle for my face.

The notes dey hit my face, my nose dey itch. I dey wonder if I go faint or laugh.

As e dey throw money, e dey shout, “Make I see how long you go dey form! Drink! Kneel down drink, hail me happy birthday! You think say you get pride? I get money scatter! Today, I go buy your pride!”

As e dey talk, I dey look am, dey wonder if na this life go better for pikin like me. I dey remember my mama face.

I no even know how much.

Money dey full ground. I dey wonder if anybody fit pick am, or na pride dey keep everybody hand tight.

I don see joke online—people say their dream na make rich man slap them with money, then dem go pack the money waka.

My guy for bar dey always talk am, “Make dem just slap me with money, I go use am build house.” But today, I dey see say money no be everything.

But that one no be my dream.

My own na make I stand for my right, even if na only me dey.

I want make I get pride for my life.

For my family, for my pikin. So that tomorrow, dem go talk say I no let anybody use me shine.

Strange, as I dey kneel, money dey hit my face, my mind just go my papa and mama.

Tears dey my eye, but I gree hold am. I dey remember old days, how dem dey hustle just to send me go school.

I remember, when I small, I follow them go church, pray.

We go kneel for altar, join hand. My papa go pray for long life, my mama go pray make pikin prosper. The church cold, candle dey burn for front. I dey peep other pikin dey sleep for bench.

Dem talk say, if you talk your wish out, e no go come true.

My auntie dey always warn me, “No dey talk am loud, make devil no hear.” I dey fear, but I dey always whisper small for corner.

But me, I stubborn. As dem close eye dey pray for altar, I hide for back dey listen.

I dey peep, dey hope say one day I go make dem proud. Small pikin dream sweet, e dey pure.

Dem no pray make I enter UNILAG or UI, or make I get money.

Dem no dey shout for new car, or for big contract. Na simple life, good health, joy. I dey remember the way my mama dey rub my head.

That day for altar front, dem just pray make I dey healthy, safe, happy.

Dem gats peace. As dem dey pray, I dey feel am, like small light for my chest.

My parents put soft hope for my life. But as I grow, why life turn like this?

Na question wey dey always worry my heart. Life dey bend pikin dream, but I still dey try.

I no imagine say life go be like this.

As I dey kneel for lounge, money for face, I dey remember say pikin dream no dey ever expect this kind wahala.

Money for ground dey plenty. I kneel down, just like that day my parents kneel for altar.

I dey ask God, make e show me road. I no wan lose my head because of pride.

Benz owner still dey shout: “I dey tell you! I don throw tens of thousands—who you be!”

The voice dey echo. E dey try buy me, but my soul dey strong. Some girls dey pick note for shoe, but I no move.

So, e don throw tens of thousands.

For my mind, na two naira sixty still remain. If na life be game, e never win me.

I stand, hand dey shake, I reach for Hennessy.

Everybody pause. The bottle cold, the label shine. E dey heavy for hand.

Benz owner shock, then nod: “So you wan drink better thing? Wetin you no fit afford for your life—today you go taste am.”

E dey mock me, but I no send.

Only half bottle remain.

The drink brown, ice still dey melt. My mouth bitter, I ready.

I carry am from ice bucket, heavy for hand.

The weight dey ginger me, as if na last bus stop be this.

I look up, begin gulp am.

The drink cold, but e dey burn throat. My belly dey full, but I dey force am down.

The cold, sweet wine dey go down my throat.

I fit smell the oak, the vanilla. Na better drink. I dey wonder how person fit spend that kind money for drink, but e dey sweet.

Sweet. Real sweet.

For once, my body cool. I dey enjoy the taste. I no even send their eye again.

Everybody dey watch. Benz owner dey shout: “If you behave like this from beginning, e for better! Finish am—no vomit! If you vomit, no money for you!”

Dem dey wait make I disgrace myself. But I dey steady, I dey show say I fit do anything if I wan.

Dem begin hail, dey ginger me to drink.

Some dey clap, another dey record. One bouncer dey mouth, “O boy, finish am!”

I no send dem, I just dey drink, dey calm myself.

Inside my mind, na my pikin face I dey see. I dey promise say I go do better for am. I dey vow say I go find my dignity, no matter how e hard.

That time, my phone ring. Unknown number.

The vibration loud for table. My heart jump. Na small hope enter my chest.

As I dey drink, person pick am, put for speaker.

The phone dey loud, everybody hear am. Even Benz owner dey listen.

One man voice come: “Na you call police? We don reach lounge—wetin be your room?”

The voice firm, e dey use official English. The room freeze. All the form dey burst.

Just like that, all the people wey dey ginger me to drink freeze.

One girl drop opener, another guy hide face. Even Benz owner hand dey shake small.

I finish the Hennessy once.

My mind dey blank, but I steady myself. E sweet me as I dey swallow the last drop.

I breathe deep, talk soft, “Room 222.”

Na whisper, but everybody hear. For the first time, silence swallow the lounge. Police dey come.

Benz owner no fit believe am. Him voice dey shake: “You don call police?”

The fear dey clear for him face. All him gra-gra just vanish.

I look am.

For the first time, I see fear for him eye. Na small justice, but e dey sweet my soul.

I know say the best way na make I just force smile, hail am happy birthday.

If to say I gree bow, maybe e for forgive. But pride no gree me.

Then police go come arrest am, I go win.

For my mind, I dey pray make dem reach on time. For Naija, if e no reach quick, dem fit change story.

I don already win.

No matter how e be, na me stand for my right.

But maybe na the drink.

The thing dey rush my head. I dey feel like say I fit do anything. My heart dey beat, my hand dey shake.

All wey dey my mind na that day, that year, that church—my parents kneel for altar, face full of hope, dey pray simple, gentle wish.

I dey remember the way my mama dey look me. My papa dey rub my back. Na love full their eye.

I no know if I meet up to their wish.

E dey pain me say life hard, but I dey try. Even if dem no see am now, I gree say I dey try.

I work hard, dey try get better life with my hand.

Everyday, from morning till night, I dey hustle. I dey pray say one day, my story go change.

But I know—dem no ever wish make I suffer like this.

For their prayer, dem no talk say pikin go kneel for lounge, dey swallow insult.

Dem go cry tire, because from small, I be their pikin.

Na me dem train, na me dem pray for. If dem see me like this, e go pain dem.

I don already win. To stop here na the best.

I dey reason say I fit just step back, wait make police finish am. But anger dey boil my blood.

But maybe na the drink.

The wine dey rush me. I dey see red. I no fit hold am. Na like voice for my head dey push me.

Even as I don win, I carry Hennessy bottle, break am for Benz owner head.

The sound loud. Glass fly everywhere, people scatter. My own hand dey pain me, but I no send.

The heavy bottle scatter, glass fly everywhere.

E dey fall, blood dey drip. The lounge quiet. Everybody dey look, nobody fit move.

The once proud Benz owner stagger, fall kneel.

E no get mouth again. For once, pride leave am. E dey breathe heavy, eyes dull.

I talk soft: “Happy birthday.”

Voice low, but e cut like knife. I stand, brush dust from trouser, head high. Tonight, na me win.