Chapter 1: For Baobab Rock, Secrets Begin

When I dey work as local guide, na so I end up crawling enter tent with three women wey come find adventure.

As evening breeze dey blow, scent of fresh bush just dey everywhere, my mind still dey wonder how I reach this kain position. For this job, every new group na fresh story—like say the land dey check who really get sense. Rain fit fall anytime, but wahala wey dey for human heart big pass wetin weather fit bring.

Of course, dem talk say na dem wan am by themselves.

No be say I force anybody. Na so e be for bush—everybody carry demself waka, and as dem dey, na dem dey choose their own path. Sometimes, I dey look how city people dey behave for bush, e dey funny. Dem go dey make mouth, but small thing fit make dem change leg. For here, na your real color dey show.

Na my cousin, the same person wey carry me enter this kind work, tell me say women full everywhere—dem dey volunteer by themselves.

Na true. Since I start, I notice say plenty women dey like this kind adventure—na freedom dem dey chase, away from family wahala, office palava. For night, when fire don die small, na so gist go start and boundaries go dey melt like sugar for garri.

One hiking group dey: four men and four women, plus me and my cousin—ten people altogether.

Dem come from all corner: some from Lagos, some Abuja, one even claim say e dey from Port Harcourt. Dem waka like small club, everybody dey try do pass the other. Me and my cousin, na we be the bush experts—nobody dey argue with our word for trail.

Dem don already arrange the route before dem come: na four days, three nights trekking for inside back mountain, wey go follow the ridgeline deep inside bush, then loop come back out.

Dem talk am with style, dey shine eye as dem explain: dem wan real adventure, no be the usual waka. One of the men even bring compass, dey shout, "Make we no use phone o!" I just dey look. We sabi say phone no go even get network for this place.

No be small waka be this o.

You go need leg like goat, and spirit like hunter. Some people go begin dey complain before second day—na normal thing. For our mind, we dey ready.

We go cross mountain, cliff, untouched forest, and river wey dey rush anyhow. The farthest point na Dark Valley—a place wey even people wey dey the area no dey near anyhow.

Dark Valley na place wey story full ground—old mama for village dey talk say spirit dey there, say person no suppose sleep there. But city people no dey fear, dem say na gist. Me, I dey always respect bush.

But my cousin say e no matter. Customer na king; anywhere dem wan go, make dem go. Local guide just dey to show road, no talk.

E get as e be, but e dey true. If customer wan jump river, na your work to just make sure say e no drown. If dem wan climb tree, na you go tie rope. Sometime I dey wonder if na money dey move this world or just craze.

E make sense. My cousin don dey do this work for like five, six years, na him dey make pass for our village. I dey thank am say e carry me follow body.

No be small thing to get person wey fit show you way. Even elders dey respect my cousin for village—dem dey hail am: "Oga guide!"

First night, we camp for Baobab Rock.

Baobab Rock na landmark—every local sabi am. Anytime we reach there, I dey feel say I don enter heart of the mountain. Baobab Rock dey halfway for one mountain wey get cliff. The land there different—na flat rock wey just dey come out from mountain like big baobab root, e be like balcony wey nature build. From Baobab Rock, you go see everywhere: sun dey rise for east, dey set for west, and the whole south dey open, sunlight full everywhere, grass fresh, old tree plenty. If you hear the wind for that place, e dey sound like old song—sometimes goat cry, sometimes just breeze. Na where ancestors fit like to sit watch pikin play. The cliff edge fit burst your brain—if you look am, e be like say na thousand feet drop—like say the ground just vanish, na only air remain under your leg. But if you reach near, you go see another ledge three or four meters down. Even if you fall, nothing go do you. But person no fit try am o, unless you get jazz or you dey look for wahala. Even the boldest hunter go respect the edge. Na why Baobab Rock dey always be our first stop for any route. If you never sleep for Baobab Rock, your bush waka never start.

As sun set, night come, everybody happy, dey gist. The men dey make mouth, the women dey laugh, dey hail dem, and dem dey drink, dey toast, dey try outdo each other for who go funny pass or who go flirt pass.

One of the men even bring bluetooth speaker, dey play Fela and some new Naija jams. Jollof dey warm for fire, sausage dey roast. I hear one woman shout, "If I catch mosquito for this place, I go sue my village people!" Everybody burst laugh. For bush, na laughter dey drive away fear.

Me and my cousin no dey join.

We just dey our corner, dey look like elders for new yam festival. For this kind work, na observer dey win. You go just keep face, dey mind your own, dey watch as people dey show demself.

We go hide near mountain, pitch our own tent, just dey sit. Before we know, night don deep. The noise from the rest people don calm down.

The air don quiet, crickets begin dey sing. Bush dey alive with small sound, but the human wahala don cool. Na this time secret dey start to waka.

My cousin carry one nylon bag from tent, dip hand inside, come dey smile like say e get secret.

I just dey look am. That kain smile, you go know say something dey behind. For bush, na so secret dey move from hand to hand, especially when night dey cover eye.

I ask am, “Wetin dey inside?”

He just look me like say I be pikin, no too talk. The nylon bag just rest for him lap, as if e carry gold inside.

He say, “No worry. Na this thing go determine how much we go make for this trip.”

The way e talk am, I begin dey reason. For bush, na anything fit sell—battery, lamp, dry meat, even perfume. But the way e dey protect that bag, e be like say na juju.

Na my cousin dey always handle all the group supply, e no dey let me help. I dey curious, and small small dey vex.

E go always say, "You be junior for this work. Dey watch!" But as e dey form, e dey prepare me for bush business. I dey learn, but na slow.

After some time, the rest people tire, go their tent, zip am, off torchlight.

Bush just quiet like graveyard. Only our torchlight remain small small.

“E don almost reach time,” my cousin talk.

“Which time?” I ask am.

E no gree answer, just dey smile like cat wey see rat.

“Shhh… just dey look.” He point one of the tents.

My heart beat small. I dey expect something—maybe animal, maybe gist. Na so bush dey, you never know which spirit dey near.

True true, zipper for that tent open again. One round head with big ear commot, look around, see my cousin, come tiptoe reach us.

The way e tiptoe, I nearly laugh. Big man, but e dey move like rat wey thief fish for kitchen. E dey fear make nobody see am.

“Guy, you bring am?” The big man sit down near my cousin, dey smile like thief.

The smile reach e eyes. E belly shake as e laugh—person wey get confidence say e go enjoy tonight.

E surname na Nuhu, but everybody dey call am Big Boss Nuhu. E fat, always dey laugh, na like mascot for the group, women dey like am.

Every time e talk, na so people dey hail am. E dey carry gist for pocket, and e get money—na two things wey dey move people for Naija.

“E dey,” my cousin answer.

I confuse. E dey? Wetin dey?

I dey try peep inside bag, but my cousin hand sharp, e cover am well. I dey reason—abeg, hope no be wetin go bring wahala for bush.

“Abeg, give me one,” Boss Nuhu talk.

“One thousand each.” My cousin dip hand inside the nylon bag, open one side, make Boss Nuhu peep.

Boss Nuhu eye shine, e try form strong face. One thousand na small money for city, but for bush, everything dey multiply.

“Ah-ah, guide, you wan chop my money finish for bush?”

My cousin close the bag, look sky, dey form hard guy, “If you feel say e no worth am, no wahala.”

Na so e do, my cousin sabi market. For bush, scarcity na value. E dey run business like Igbo trader for Onitsha.

I shock. My cousin na person wey just finish secondary school, but e dey talk like person wey sabi.

I dey learn—money na sense for this work.

Boss Nuhu smack him lips, think small, then say, “Oya, one thousand no wahala.”

E gree sharp sharp—body don dey hot, no wan lose opportunity. Sometimes man fit spend last card for small enjoyment.

My cousin collect the money, check am well, bring something from the bag give Boss Nuhu.

Money enter hand, business complete—na so we dey do am for bush. You go check note, make sure no be fake. My cousin dey shine eye, no gree fall mugu.

“If you want more, e still dey,” my cousin talk.

E dey run market, e sabi say people wey taste one go want more. For this bush, e be like mini market, na anything you want dey for sale.

“More? Wetin still dey?”

Boss Nuhu eye dey red, like pikin wey see sweet. E wan check all the stock, like market woman dey check tomato.

“See am.” My cousin open the bag again, Boss Nuhu eye shine.

E dey select—black, red, fancy. Na like market for bush, I just dey look, dey laugh for mind.

“This one cheap pass. Na eight hundred.”

My cousin dey market am, dey play price like Aba trader.

“Oya, I want the black one.” Boss Nuhu drop another money.

Business dey sweet everybody—both seller and buyer. E remain make dem carry POS come bush.

This time, I see am clear.

My eye no deceive me—e shock me, but e sweet my belle. Bush life get levels, truly.

Wetin my cousin give Boss Nuhu na pair of stockings.

I almost burst laugh. For city, na normal thing, but for bush, e dey special—like say na ritual. E mean say e dey plan full show tonight.

And Boss Nuhu quietly crawl enter another tent.

E no look back, just waka with confidence. E dey sure say e don arrange.