Chapter 8: The Chairman’s Office

Dem ‘invite’ me reach Jide Nwachukwu office, press me for him big chair.

Omo, the chair soft, the room cold. My own leg no touch ground. My heart dey race.

I try stand—dem push me back down. Try again—push back.

The guards face blank, no dey show pity. Na only orders dem sabi.

Me: “...”

If to say na my street, I for don beg okada man run commot. Here, na only God fit help.

Wetin be all this? Jide Nwachukwu fit just kidnap me, nobody go talk.

I dey look door, dey plan how to jump window. But twentieth floor—na spirit dey try am.

I try explain:

“Na mistake. I no be wetin you think with your Chairman Jide... In fact, I be him godmother. Or, you fit see me as him mama..."

I dey form story, dey hope say dem go pity me. For Naija, if you call mama, sometimes e dey work.

Before I finish, cold laugh come from door:

The laugh cold, like harmattan breeze.

“My mama die when I dey primary school. Grass for her grave tall pass person—sure you dey talk true?”

The way e talk am, na pain dey hide for corner. For a moment, I see small boy inside lion.

I look up: “Jide Nwachukwu!”

My voice low, but fear dey inside.

He no send, just tell the four guards, “Out.”

Omo, dem waka, no look back. The kind respect wey e command, na only real oga fit get am.

The four, like fridge, nod, waka.

I dey pray say make dem stay for door. If anything happen, who go help me?

Me: weak, pitiful, helpless.

As I dey sit, I dey imagine say maybe if I faint, dem go pity me.

I shrink for the big chair, no wan move, dey watch as Jide Nwachukwu dey come closer, step by step.

He dey unbutton, dey loosen up. Each step, my heart dey beat drum. My mind dey flash back to all the stories I hear for Abuja.

Chairman office dey twentieth floor, big glass window dey show all the fine city lights for Abuja.

The view dey sweet, but the cold inside this office no be here. I dey shiver small.

Jide Nwachukwu waka come, dey unbutton him cuff, remove suit jacket.

E drop am for chair. My mind dey calculate escape.

Then e start dey loose tie.

That red tie—e dey do am slow, as if na warning.

Then him watch.

My own mind dey ring alarm bell. Na so all those romantic Nollywood films dey start.

Me: “...”

I dey pray say make my village people no dey watch me for plasma TV.

My mind dey ring bell: “Jide Nwachukwu, wetin you dey do?”

If na play, abeg make e stop. My own heart no fit carry this kind suspense.

No be say I never read the original novel. Anytime male lead start this kind thing, na action go follow.

The kind scene wey go make church people call prayer meeting. I dey sweat for armpit.

Next thing, he stop for my front.

Both hands land for chair arm, cage me. Veins for him arm dey show.

If I try stand, na my last bus stop. I just freeze.

“Now you dey call me Jide Nwachukwu,” he talk cold. “But just now for hall, you pretend say you no know me.”

His eyes dey burn, like person wey dey punish goat wey chop yam.

Him scent just full everywhere.

Na so expensive cologne dey, e fit blind sense.

I try shift back:

My back jam leather. No space to run.

“No... I no pretend. I just dey pass. You dey shine now, I fear to greet.”

I dey smile small, dey hope say e go free me.

“Na so?” Jide Nwachukwu no gree. “No hide, Mimi.”

The command for him voice strong. My leg dey shake.

I shrink: “Mm.”

I nod like lizard. My mind dey pray.

“Where you dey since?”

The question heavy. For Naija, if person miss, dem go find am everywhere.

“...”

Where I go?

My mouth dry. I dey think excuse. Wetin I go tell am?

Three years ago, after we separate for airport, I no show again.

I dey try reason say e no go believe my story.

As I leave the world, Simi Adeola suppose help am forget me.

Story no follow plan. If to say na normal novel, by now, Jide and Simi for dey chop love.

So I dey enjoy—sunbathe for beach, party for club, dey admire fine boys.

For my mind, I dey live soft life. Nobody dey disturb. But Jide shadow still dey haunt me sometimes.

But I no fit talk that one.

If I talk truth, e fit bite me. So I reason, I lie small.

I mumble, “I... I dey run everyday... dey miss you for secret.”

I dey talk soft, dey form emotion. For Naija, if you wan touch man heart, try cry small.

Jide Nwachukwu hand pause.

E look me, as if e dey believe, as if e dey doubt.

System shout: “Host! Jide Nwachukwu wahala value just drop by one point!”

I for roll eye, but I no wan make Jide see am.

Me: “...”

I dey pray make system shut up. The thing dey distract me.

Me: “You dey craze? I call you before, you no answer, now you show?”

For inside my head, I dey curse system. E no dey help when wahala choke.

System: “Continue, host!”

System na real landlord for this my body.

I wan talk more, but I no even know wetin Jide Nwachukwu dey reason again.

He just dey look me, face dey hard, but eye dey soft small.

I try check am, ask soft: “Jide Nwachukwu, you dey okay now?”

I dey talk like nurse. I wan see if e go melt small.

Jide Nwachukwu Adam apple move, voice get as e be: “Mm.”

The "mm" long. As if e no sure whether to shout or to beg.

“Good. Then... you don see Simi Adeola?”

Na so the whole room freeze. Even air no dey move.

Jide Nwachukwu: “...”

He glare me. The tension thick like ogbono soup.

System: “Host! Jide Nwachukwu wahala value don jump ten points!”

If I fit faint, I for try am.

Me: “...”

Wahala.

The thing don pass my power. I dey regret why I mention that babe name.

I quick grab him sleeve, eyes watery, begin talk nonsense:

I try form beg-beg, my voice dey shake. E fit pity me small.

“Simi Adeola na my distant cousin. My papa and mama run abroad after bankruptcy, but her people still dey here. Now wey I come back, I just wan know if you don see her..."

Na so lie dey save person sometimes. I dey reason if I go add small tears.

“Cousin?” Jide Nwachukwu lips twist, “You know say this your ‘cousin’ work for my company before?”

He dey size me. Like say he dey plan punishment.

“I know, I know.” I nod quick. “Na me send her. I tell her say you dey nice, say she go enjoy with you..."

I dey beg, dey smile, dey form angel.

Jide Nwachukwu suddenly grab my neck.

E tight but not enough to choke. Na warning grip. My heart jump.

No warmth for him hand. “Talk am again?”

His eyes dey burn. I dey reason if I go cry for real.

“I... I say you dey nice... mm.”

My mouth dey wobble. I dey beg God for help.

Jide Nwachukwu bend, bite my shoulder.

Na real wahala. I grip chair, dey hold myself.

E don do!

I wan shout but shame no let me.

“You be dog before?”

If na before, I for slap am. But now, na only mouth sharp.

Jide Nwachukwu no answer, just sneer:

He dey look me, eye red, lip tight.

“You no know whether I be dog? You disappear, still send another woman come my side.”

His voice low, as if e dey try hold in pain. For a moment, I see small boy wey dey fear loss.

He leave the chair.

He move, the whole room dey spin. My own leg no gree balance.

I follow, try stand.

But before I balance—

Jide sharp pass me. E no dey waste chance.

Everywhere spin.

Na so my head turn. Next thing, I dey air.

He grab my waist, like octopus, carry me for shoulder.

If to say dem dey film am, na now camera go pan away.

System for my head almost faint.

Even system dey panic. My own mind dey blank.

I struggle: “Wetin you dey do?”

I dey hit him back small, but e no dey pain am.

“You wan see Simi Adeola? E depend on how you perform tonight.”

His voice carry small laughter. I dey fear.

“Per...performance?”

I dey stammer. For this kind situation, only prayer fit save me.

God, if I survive this night, I go sow thanksgiving offering.

“Behave. Make me happy.” He sneer, “If my mind sweet, I go let you see not just one cousin, but ten.”

The way he talk am, e mean business. I dey reason how I take enter this one.