Chapter 4: Blood for Wrapper

As we dey talk, we waka reach one fruit stall for market.

Na market dey bubble that morning, people dey shout price, dey drag customer. My nose pick the smell of fried akara and fish wey dey for next stall. But na this fruit stand, quiet like grave, we reach.

The stall dey under old building, nobody dey buy anything.

Dust dey settle for ground, and small gutter water dey near the stall. The stall no get life, na only the seller dey try arrange fruit wey no fresh.

One woman wey be my mate look me, waka come reluctantly.

She waka come with her wrapper tie for chest, hairnet still dey her head. The way she dey look me, you go know say na Lagos woman—life don show her pepper.

"Wetin you wan buy?"

Her voice no sweet at all. For her face, na like say e dey pain am to serve me. Na so market dey sometimes—everybody dey hustle, nobody get time for smile.

I point one bunch sugarcane for corner.

She look me from head to toe, talk with bad mouth:

Her eye scan my cloth, then she hiss small. Na so Naija market women dey do when dem no trust customer.

"Sugarcane na thirty-one naira per one. You get money so?"

I just wave the money for her face. Na that time she slow slow peel one sugarcane.

Her hand dey slow, like person wey dey wait make I change my mind. But me, I no talk; I just dey watch her, steady.

Comments dey run for screen:

"Mama dey suffer. She finally get money, just wan chop something sweet."

"No be so! This stall dey do wayo. Sugarcane no suppose pass twenty naira one."

"See as she pick the worst one give mama. Streamer, talk something now!"

For Naija market, to buy better thing, you go need eye. If not, dem go use you shine. People for online dey vex, but person wey dey ground know say e normal.

Big Timi just look the comments, reply softly:

"My people, my own rule be say I go only give money, I no dey interfere."

The way e talk am, e sound like person wey no wan enter wahala. In this Lagos, if you put mouth for market matter, na slap you fit collect.

"So, for this kind matter, I no go put mouth."

After the woman finish peel the sugarcane, I see say e don dry, some part inside even black.

The sugarcane wey she give me, e no get joy. Na so e dey—market woman go keep better one for customer wey get money.

She use cutter chop am, bag am, come collect money.

As I give am money, I still dey look the dry sugarcane for bag. Na so dem dey do us wey dem see say we no get.

I shake my head, arrange my hair wey breeze scatter.

The sun dey hot, and my hair dey fly anyhow. I use hand press am, dey arrange my wrapper. For market, appearance fit help you, but sometimes e no matter.

As she dey look me with surprise, I raise two fingers.

"Give me two more."

The woman happy, pick two more bad sugarcanes, peel am.

Her face brighten, na like say business don land. She just dey happy to offload her bad stock. I see am, but I no talk.

Comments just dey scatter:

"This mama no dey see say dem dey cheat am?"

"She dey buy sugarcane like say tomorrow no dey, she fit finish am?"

"Others go save money buy better thing, she just dey waste am."

"Na only for Naija you go see this kain live show."

"Chai, this woman get strong mind o!"

Big Timi just dey watch him phone, mouth dey bend—controversy dey bring traffic.

I notice say Big Timi mouth dey twist, e dey calculate views for him head. For him mind, e dey happy say drama dey show.

More people join the stream.

I dey feel the energy change. For market, once crowd dey, wahala fit start anytime. But today, na only this sugarcane matter dey reign.

The woman rush finish the other two sugarcanes.

She dey work sharp sharp now. Money dey sweet person hand.

I just stand for front, dey look her with cold eye.

The way I take look her, I no blink. Na so Lagos dey train person—no show weakness.

As she give me the three bags, heavy breeze blow again.

Dust and nylon just dey fly everywhere.

My eye dey pepper me, but I hold my ground. For market, you no fit complain—dem go say you dey make wahala.

The woman use hand rub her eye.

Next thing, gbosa! Something heavy land, warm blood splash reach my face.

She fall for ground, head burst open—na brick from upstairs drop land for her head. Blood run like palm oil for sand. People scatter, some dey shout Jesus, some dey press phone.

Na just as e happen, I freeze. People dey scream, everywhere scatter. Blood stain my wrapper, but I still dey hold my sugarcane bag. Lagos fit shock person any day.

Blood dey my wrapper, sugarcane for my hand—Lagos don show me new level today.