Chapter 7: Lagos Lessons

Since I find out say my daughter fit dey reborn because of these bullet comments, my days just dey lost for Lagos road. Sometimes I park for Eko Bridge, dey look people waka, dey think about my own wahala.

One day, as I dey pass Morayo old school gate, I see Musa. Sun dey hot, sweat dey him face, but boy no send. He dey kneel, beg principal make dem allow am audit class. I hear small from window, voice dey shake.

Some years back, him parents get accident, land for hospital. After all the try, money finish, hospital bill no get end. Later, them still die. Life wicked.

Musa small that time, no fit take care of himself. Shop close, go back village with old grandma. Village life hard, but na survival.

Now, as final year dey come, he wan work hard enter university. He talk am with pride, even if leg no get shoe.

But for village, teacher no fit solve half the questions. Even common maths, dem dey mix am. He struggle for days, finally get courage come town, dey beg school after school. Na real hustle.

Seeing principal face, I, wey park nearby, just feel for the boy. Keke horn dey blow, hawker dey shout gala, but inside my car, everywhere just quiet as I watch Musa dey beg. I no fit waka go.

"Let him enroll. I’ll pay all the fees and handle the transfer."

Me and Musa no get blood. But the day I help am, maybe because I see for the first time: the chance to study wey make Morayo hate me for years, another pikin dey beg for on him knees. Life dey show lesson in different way.

After I settle Musa school and papers, I return home. Mind heavy, back dey pain. As I reach door, hear noise, I just dey pray say no be wahala again.

I open door, see wetin dey happen, nearly faint. Mouth open, no word come out.