Chapter 1: Shadow at the Chambers

2015. Aba sun dey burn like pepper. Just outside the law firm, one strange woman block my road—her shadow long pass trailer. The heat that afternoon dey bite like say harmattan and sun dey drag ground together. The bustle of Ngwa Road never reach here, but the gate of our small chambers na always market for people—clients, vendors, sometimes beggars, and those ones wey dey hawk gala and pure water. I don already dey think about the next step for the matter when this woman, her shadow long for the hot cement, just block me with the kind boldness wey fit make agbero pause. Her wrapper tie anyhow, slippers nearly cut, face stubborn like market woman wey dey fight for change.

The evidence choke—no be small. Everybody for chambers don already dey count the man as dead man walking. The accused don already get death sentence for first trial—no appeal, and now e dey for death penalty review stage. The matter be like say e don finish. But na that time, she show face.

If you see as the sun dey shine that day, e be like say even fate dey highlight this woman entry. I bin dey hurry, my black robe for arm, but her eye catch me like hand wey dey drag person for market. My mind tell me make I just wave am off, but something for her body language—her desperation—just hold me small.

I ask am, "You be witness?" I dey look her from head to toe—no sign say she dey lie, but for this Aba, you fit trust who?

She talk something I no go ever forget—

"No, I no be witness. I be evidence."

Na so my body cold, like say person pour iced water for my back. Her voice low, but e cut through all the noise for road, like bell wey ring inside silent church.