Chapter 3: The Chosen Victim

With these two moves, Onuche get more liver. Touching no dey sweet am again; he wan do pass that one.

Na so the wahala escalate. Small small, wickedness dey gather like cloud for rainy season. Onuche look himself for mirror, feel say he don become oga for darkness. Touch no dey satisfy am, e wan taste full fruit. That one na how evil dey grow—one level at a time.

He think am well, say bush get too many wahala; better to do the thing inside room.

Bush get wahala—mosquito, sand, people fit waka pass anytime. For am, to carry girl enter safe place, na better move. So he come dey plot new strategy. Even evil dey use sense sometimes.

So, Onuche begin pick girls from those wey dey do night reading. He dey target classrooms wey near toilet, sit for back, dey observe.

E sharp, he dey observe movement. Night reading dey common for campus, especially before exams. Onuche go siddon for back, dey eye girls, dey mark their waka. Classrooms close to toilet always quiet, so e fit hide without people suspecting.

To talk true, Onuche no happy with the first two girls—he say dem too “ugly,” he lose.

Even inside evil, e dey find beauty. He dey whine for court, say the first girls no fine, say them no get packaging. Na so he dey form taste, as if na normal party he dey attend.

This time, Onuche decide say he go choose well.

He put all mind for am. Every small detail, he dey plan—her hair, her walk, the way she dey talk. Like say na hunter dey select animal for bush.

With all this shakara, he search for one full month before he see the girl wey him eye like.

One month e dey waka, dey survey, dey stalk. If you see as he dey monitor, you go think say na detective. Evil patience pass normal person own sometimes.

Her name na Morenike, sophomore for art department.

The name sweet for ear—Morenike. Yoruba pikin, quiet, bookish. Everybody for department know say she no dey follow crowd. You fit hear her name for Art Studio side, where dem dey mould and paint.

Morenike na single-parent pikin. Her papa na welder, and from small, her biggest dream na to go France learn bronze sculpture.

Single mama hustle. The papa, Baba Sulaimon, dey weld gate for street, dey manage family. Morenike dream big pass her environment. To her, Paris no be far. Her hands dey always dirty with clay, her mind dey fly with dreams.

Morenike tall, 1.75 meters, fine and get style, but she no dey do makeup, no boyfriend, no dey follow people anyhow.

Her Ankara always clean, even if e tear small for corner. You fit smell small shea butter for her hair if you near am. You go see am for school, always dey wear Ankara gown or plain shirt. Skin chocolate, face bright, but she no dey do shakara. For Naija, if you fine and quiet, boys go disturb you tire, but Morenike no dey look their side. If you try talk, she go just smile, bounce you gently.

One, she dey manage money; two, she dey rush to pass French exam so she fit japa go abroad after graduation.

No time for wahala. All her allowance dey go for textbook and transport. She dey carry French dictionary everywhere. Her best friend na phone wey get Google Translate app. Her focus strong, no room for distraction.

But wahala still jam her.

As Naija life dey be—when you dey peaceful, na then trouble dey waka find you. If to say she sabi, maybe she for dey more careful. But how person go know evil dey near?

The first day Onuche see Morenike, na so he dey trip for her innocence.

As he spot her for library, something hook am for neck. He dey look her like say he never see woman before. Innocence dey radiate from her eyes. Some evil dey feed on good people.

He ask Morenike for her contact, she politely bounce am. As usual, Onuche think say she dey look down on am.

You know those gentle "No, thank you" wey dey sweet but firm? Na so Morenike handle am. She no insult, just bounce am with respect. But Onuche mind twist am—he see pride where humility dey.

Na so he begin dey imagine: “If I spoil Morenike, she no go get choice than to follow me.”

Evil dey reason like that. For him mind, once he fit break her, she go dey at his mercy. He dey plan wickedness for night, dey smile for day.

Onuche wait for chance. When Morenike stand up go toilet, he carry him bag, follow quietly.

He eye dey shine. He dey pray make nobody block road. As she waka go toilet, he tiptoe behind, heart dey pound. Only God know wetin dey for him mind.

“What you keep inside the bag?”

I pause am for court, I ask. This one pain me. Any small detail fit change case.

Onuche pause. “Mask, handcuffs, tape, and dumbbell.”

Him voice low, but the confession strong. The whole court dey quiet, as if time stop.

“Why you carry dumbbell?”

I no fit believe am. Dumbbell? For exam period?

“Because I dey gym.”

He try form innocent, twist mouth. As if all students dey carry gym dumbbell waka like gala for traffic.

Liar.

For my mind, I dey scream. Who him dey deceive? Judge sef look up, pen pause. Na lie full ground, but for Naija, you go let devil yarn finish before you expose am.

But I no talk, just let am dey go.

I just dey watch, dey jot everything. Na so legal work be—sometimes silence loud pass shout. Court dey observe.