Chapter 3: Lost Phone, Lost Peace

3

Morning reach, leader wake everybody, talk say today journey no far—make we relax enjoy scenery.

Everybody dey do small stretch, dey yarn about how body dey pain dem. Sun never high, but ground already dey warm.

She raise hand gently, talk say her phone fall for cliff last night as she go toilet, she wan go find am for bottom of the mountain.

Her lie smooth, nobody suspect anything. For her eyes, small shame dey hide, but she package am well.

She cross her chest small, whisper, "God abeg, cover my secret." Leader no like last minute change; as she finish, him face change.

Him eye dey scan her, like say she dey waste time. But for group trip, e get as e be—everybody dey pretend say dem dey considerate.

Luckily, the guide talk say the place no hard to reach—just one small stream dey under the cliff. Even if phone no break, e fit don wash go, so chance to find am no too much. But he gree lead, the rest fit follow leader go. We go meet for next village.

Guide na correct bushman. E dey calm everybody, talk say, "Make una no fear, na our land. Stream dey bless person if you waka with clean heart."

As I hear am, I quick volunteer follow them—three people better for safety.

I pretend say na group spirit, but for my mind, I no wan leave her alone for bush.

Leader gree, so our group of eight split: guide carry me and her go down the back of the cliff, leader lead others for the main road.

As we dey pack, I dey watch her face. She no gree make eye contact, just dey arrange bag, dey tie shoe lace with too much focus.

She just look me, her face no show thank you or vex—just one kind mixed feeling.

That silence between us get weight. Na only breeze fit break am.

But to talk true, her face and body fine die. For this bush, she just dey like spirit woman.

If to say na olden days, dem for talk say na river goddess appear for man.

As we dey go down, guide dey tell us local gist, time dey pass. Sound of stream dey loud, soon we reach bottom of cliff.

Guide dey yarn how this stream dey carry story, how local people dey use am for blessing, and how sometimes, people fit see tortoise wey carry message from ancestors.

Surprisingly, the phone wey we think say don lost just dey for ground.

Guide bend, pick am—everybody shout, "Na God o!" Even guide do small dance. The body bend, screen don scatter, water don soak am, e jam between stones.

Na only casing remain, but at least she fit recover sim or memory card.

Lucky say the water clear, so phone dey visible, just soak for inside.

We dey thank ancestors for clear water. If na muddy season, story for change.

I pick the phone give her; she press am up and down, but nothing happen.

She press like say miracle fit happen, but na silence and darkness. She sigh, put am for bag.

“Just keep am as souvenir—at least this trip no waste,” guide talk, small pity for him voice. “We fit follow this stream reach next village—na another hiking road, but e no too safe when rain dey. At least, you go see the hidden road.”

Guide dey try make everybody see adventure, but I dey watch her mood dey drop small small.

She put phone for bag, look me, say, “No lose me o.”

Her voice soft, but e get weight. I just nod, my mouth no open.

To talk true, that time, I feel say she get deeper meaning.

If na dream, na now person go wake up.

But I no fit think reach that side, I no fit look her eye.

Guilt dey my throat like stone. My chest heavy. Wetin I dey do?

I get wife; five years marriage.

Na so temptation dey knock door. I dey feel small like rat wey thief fish.