Chapter 1: The Smell of Trouble
After I started rubbing pepper extract on my underwear, my washed panties always dey get one kind smell. I come dey suspect say one pervert don enter our hostel, but my roommates just dey talk say na paranoia dey worry me. Some even begin spread bad gist about me, saying old men dey sponsor me and I carry dirty disease.
As dem dey run their mouth, dem no even pity person. The way dem dey gather for corner, dey whisper, dey look my direction with side-eye, e get as e be. For Naija hostel, gist dey spread like harmattan fire; once dem don put your name for matter, wahala don land. Dem dey laugh low-low, sometimes dem go fake cough if I pass, or shift dey clean seat for where I dey try sit. My mind dey hot every time.
I no fit bear am again, so I quietly rub concentrated pepper everywhere for my panties. That night, scream full the whole hostel.
Na that kind scream wey go make even night guards forget their duty, rush come see wetin dey happen. Some girls jump from sleep, some dey shout 'Blood of Jesus! Who die?' Some dey even call their mama for phone. The whole hostel turn upside down. For my mind, I just dey wait make dem catch the thief wey dey chop pepper for midnight.
Rain dey beat zinc roof, water dey drip for corridor, but this smell different—e strong pass wet ground.
E be like say one pervert don dey target me. The panties wey I dey hang for the corridor dey always come back with one kain smell. E start half a month ago. That day, I just dey pack my laundry for corridor as usual. As I carry down my panties, one kind bad smell just hit my nose.
As the thing choke me, I carry nose take block face, bend down try confirm if na my own cloth dey do this kind thing. For Naija hostel, everybody dey hang pant for corridor, but na only my own dey get wahala. E dey somehow. My chest been dey rise and fall as I try sniff again, just to be sure say na no be me dey craze.
Chai—
I nearly vomit, I almost drop the clothes wey dey my hand. That time, I no too reason am. Rain been dey fall steady, so I think say maybe my panties fall for ground come dirty. But three days later, that same smell catch my freshly washed panties again. This time e strong pass before.
Na that moment, even my spirit vex. I stand for corridor dey look left-right, dey reason whether to ask people if dem notice anything. For my mind, e dey pain me say person fit dey do this kind thing for hostel, where girls suppose dey safe. Rain still dey fall small, but my mind no dey calm again.
I sharply ask my roommates. Dem all deny, talk say dem no touch my things. To know where the smell dey come from, I first go do full body checkup at the school clinic. Nurse talk say nothing dey do me. Later, I begin change pant brands. But the wahala be say, as long as I hang them for corridor overnight, that smell go show face again.
Nurse Sade even look me from head to toe, ask me whether I dey eat enough or whether I get fish allergy. Na so Naija nurse dey do—if dem no know, dem go ask you if you sleep well. I just dey nod head, but deep down I know say wahala pass all this one.
Na that time I come realize say e get as e be: the problem no be the panties, na the corridor. E fit be say pervert dey our hostel.
For Naija, once person begin suspect say pervert dey, you go see everybody dey chook mouth. Some go dey talk say spirit dey waka, others go say make we do night vigil. But my own be say, I go find who dey do this nonsense.