Chapter 5: Chop Money No Be Blessing

Now, for this third-floor common room, everybody dey shout—some voice high, some low.

Some dey crawl go wall, others dey grip chair, even boys dey cry. The tension no be here.

Noise just dey everywhere, e dey pain ear.

E loud reach street, but e be like nobody dey hear outside.

But the funny thing be say, with all the noise and open window,

Nobody from outside dey look inside. Even security guard no dey waka. Streetlight dey blink, but everywhere just dead.

hostel outside still dead silent.

No generator hum, no hawker dey pass, even crickets mute. People dey look window, dey wonder if na dream.

No sound, not even bird.

The silence dey choke. One guy try call home but network lost. E try again, phone blank.

Dem shout tire, voice crack, fall for ground.

Voice don finish, na only cough dey remain. Everybody dey weak.

Another chop money show.

Phone vibrate, new notification pop. This time, people dey fear even look screen.

This time, nobody wan touch phone.

Hands dey hide under armpit, some dey try off their phone, some dey throw phone for floor.

One girl hide her phone inside bra, whisper, “Devil no go use me play tonight.”

Aunty Temi eye shine: “Yes! We no be mumu. If we no collect chop money, game no fit continue.”

She dey shake, but hope dey her voice. “Abeg, if we ignore am, e go stop.”

As if e dey hear us, next second, everybody hand just move on their own, click the chop money.

E be like remote dey control us—nobody fit resist. Even bros wey dey form hard guy dey tap phone like zombie.

Fingers dey move like say na remote dey control am. “Jesu!” one boy scream, “I no wan collect!”

Bang bang bang bang.

Notification sound dey echo. The air heavy, eyes red everywhere.

Everybody turn, dey look Aunty Temi with vex.

Some dey hiss, others dey curse under breath. "See wetin you cause!" one girl mumble.

Auwalu, fear and anger mix, stand, grab table leg.

He wan form action man, but you fit see leg dey shake like leaf for harmattan.

But his leg just dey shake, he fall for ground.

He land with one kain noise, leg twist. “Ewo!” he shout.

Aunty Temi stand, kick am, grab chair leg too.

She vex, face hard. She dey pant as she lift chair.

She raise chair, begin beat am, again and again.

Each strike loud, “Gboah! Gboah!” Some people cover eye.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Noise everywhere. Even the wall dey collect hits.

“Auwalu, you don too over! You slap me twice just now—I never pay you back, you wan fight me again?”

She dey vent all her anger. Her voice crack, but she no stop.

“Na dead woman matter you dey fight? Because she be your babe or your sugar mummy, you wan do strong head?”

Room scatter with whispers, "Chei! E reach like this?"

“Ungrateful person, open eye see! I no better pass her for you?”

She dey shout, spit dey fly. Some people dey nod, others dey shift eye.

Auwalu dey cry, chair leg dey hit am everywhere.

Him tears mix with sweat and small blood. “I beg!” he dey whimper.

Crack, crack.

Sound of teeth break. Boys dey wince, girls dey cry. Room smell of fear and sweat.

People no fit watch. Each time she hit, somebody shiver.

One girl close ear, another dey pray. The trauma dey spread like virus.

Some people wey no vomit when dem see blood before, vomit now.

Stomach turn, one guy rush window, try hold vomit but e no work.

Auwalu beg, hold her leg, dey cry.

Voice hoarse, “Abeg, abeg…” E dey shake like leaf.

“Aunty Temi, abeg stop! I know say I mess up.”

He dey sob, saliva for mouth. “I no wan die.”

“I no be bad person—I just vex. Morayo na my padi... You fit save her, but you choose money. I just vex.”

He dey try justify himself, eyes dey close. “Forgive me, abeg.”

“Omo, e dey pain me. Abeg stop! I no go do am again!”

He hug her leg tighter, as if e go save am from beating.

After she knack two of his teeth commot, Aunty Temi stop, drop the stool, dey breathe hard.

She stagger back, face red, chest dey rise and fall. People dey avoid her eye.

She raise head, eye strong, scan everybody. Nobody fit look her eye.

The authority for her face heavy. She carry presence wey dey command room.

Then, chop money rule appear.

Phone vibrate. The rule shine for screen, font red like blood.

[The Luck King fit do anything for this common room.]

People dey whisper. “Na still same rule, abi?”

[The person wey luck worst: you must find the second worst luck, throw your socks inside their pocket, then glue their chair with superglue. Dem go sit for ten minutes.]

[During this time, the second worst no fit throw away the dirty socks, no fit stand, no fit report to class prefect. If dem try, other people fit punish them.]

[If dem break am, both go die.]

[If una finish am, both go live.]

As we read am, everybody shock.

Some people dey laugh, others dey roll eye. “Na only dirty socks?” one girl whisper. “Omo, e better pass die.”

Then, happiness show.

Small joy dey room, hope dey shine for face. "We fit win this round!" person shout.

“This one na free ticket!”

One guy raise two hands. “Na just socks! God abeg, e easy!”

“E easy—na just dirty socks and glue. To die worse.”

Girls dey squeeze nose, but boys dey laugh. "Na guy go chop am!"

Girls squeeze face, blush: “But na inside common room, with lock everywhere. E go smell die.”

One girl dey fan herself with book. “Who get the dirtiest socks?” she whisper.

One boy shout: “This time, na smell dey worry you? Life dey on the line oh!”

The laughter weak but e still dey. “Omo, person go chop socks for survival!”

Everybody know say na him be the unlucky one.

Dem point finger. “Na you, Kunle! Your luck bad reach!”

The girl wey he shout for turn red, dey breathe heavy.

Her face flush, as if shame dey eat am. She just dey tap leg, dey look ground.

Nobody support her, she just hiss turn face.

She no get hope for here, people dey ignore her.

Everybody laugh, all of us know say na Kunle, dem pat him shoulder.

One guy rub am back, “Guy, your own strong o.”

One guy joke:

The joke land, others laugh. “Kunle, na so e be every semester!”

“Kunle, you dey last for book, now for luck join! Ha!”

Some dey snap picture, others dey giggle.

Kunle no dey laugh. As dem dey joke, he push one guy fall, slap another.

Him vex real, slap loud. “Una dey mad?”

Slap!

The sound sharp, the receiver mouth open.

Others freeze, eye open.

Fear grip room. Nobody dey move, the air cold.

The two wey chop slap shock.

Dem dey rub cheek, dey curse low. “Guy, calm down!”

As everybody dey look, dem vex, wan fight.

Tension dey rise, some dey ball fist, others dey hold am.

But Kunle strong, if dem try, na beat dem go collect.

People dey size am up, but nobody get mind to challenge am.

He dey sweat, dey pant, stress wan finish am.

Sweat dey drip for him face, shirt soak for armpit. “God, abeg,” he dey murmur.

He look everybody, shout: “Omo, my life dey on the line! You think say e easy for me?”

His voice sharp, pain full am. Even those wey dey vex calm down small.

“At this point, abeg, no dey play. Morayo just die—una blind?”

He point her blood stain. The room go silent.

Harmattan breeze just blow small from window, but e no cool anybody body.

But as the countdown begin, everybody dey reason—who go survive this Naija horror?