Chapter 4: Tears and Suspicions

Uncle Bala stop talk, then look me ask:

“You remember this case? That year, everywhere hear am. You from here, you suppose know, abi?”

My hand still dey massage, I just answer am like normal gist:

“I no really remember anything from year 2000. That time I be like 11 or 12, something happen for my family, we travel go south. Around 1998 or 1999 like that.

Na recent years I return, so I no too sabi news from that time.”

I know this Unity Bookshop. I go school near there before, but I no remember this kind case.

Sometimes I dey wonder whether I too dey forget things, but truth be say, my own wahala full pass.

For this Lagos, everybody dey carry their own cross, nobody go fit remember all the bad news.

“No wonder.” Uncle Bala voice soft, like say e dey lost for memory, tears sef dey fall from him eye.

I never see grown man wey dey cry gently like that since my papa die. As I see am dey cry, I quickly give am tissue, ask am:

“Uncle Bala, this one wey your body just dey hard today, hope say nothing dey worry you? Make we pause small, abeg.”

Uncle Bala dey always calm during massage, every part dey cooperate.

But today, e body just stiff. Sometimes, I see goosebumps for him back.

Especially when e talk about Musa death, e body hard like stone, I no even fit press.

I remember how old people dey talk, "if body dey reject hand, na spirit dey worry am." I no know if na so here.

“I just dey nervous...” Uncle Bala turn, sit up, wipe him tears. “You don massage reach, make we rest. Tell me, how you see this case?”

Me, I happy to relax. Uncle Bala don pay for whole day, so I no get anywhere to go.

I just lean for sofa, back face window, dey look Uncle Bala:

“To me: na mad man kill innocent pikin, police shoot am. The story no too hard. The only thing wey no clear be: why e dey mention ‘the moon’? Wetin be that? I remember say the pikin name na Sade—e get as e sound like ‘moon’. Maybe na revenge?”

I try remember Uncle Bala story, talk my mind: if we no talk about madness, maybe na Sade kill Musa pikin, then Musa kill am back. That one go make sense.

But the name ‘moon’ dey somehow familiar, but the time don pass, I no fit remember.

Sometimes I dey try link am to some Yoruba proverb, but nothing dey come.

“Your guess make sense, but na lie. The truth different. I fit tell you say, Musa no dey mad, and everything wey e do, e know wetin e dey do.” Uncle Bala give me juice, then continue him gist.

The way him hand dey shake as e pour the juice, I just dey look. Na from there I know say this story still dey pain am well.

But as I watch the tears for him eye, I begin dey suspect say this story never finish.