Chapter 2: CCTV No Dey Lie

I dey watch everything from my balcony window, my heart dey dance makossa.

From up there, I dey see as my small cousin dey do like area boy for Oshodi. Small pikin, but wahala full body. E tiptoe near the car, look left, look right, sweat dey drip for forehead, hand dey shake as e pour the banger. Like thief wey police dey pursue. I just dey grip balcony rail, my heart dey beat kpim kpim.

My cousin carry like three of those heavy 'Knockout' bangers—those double-bang ones wey get serious power—he go hide am under the back seat of the car, light am, then run.

Those ones no be the normal knockouts. Na those red head, double sound banger. Any small error, e go burst everywhere. As I see am hide under seat, my mind cut. Na only small pikin go try that kind thing. If to say na village, elders for don flog am well.

The banger strong pass as e think; na so e trigger the fuel tank, e explode.

Even me, I shock. E no suppose reach like that. The kind sound wey come out, na real war front. For my mind, I dey remember how dem dey warn say banger and petrol no be mate. This one don confirm am.

One heavy sound just scatter everywhere, thick smoke begin come out for back of the Cayenne. The air smell of burnt rubber and roasted suya, people dey shout from all corners, even okada boys stop to watch.

Smoke just begin billow, black, thick, smell dey enter window. I hear people for compound dey shout, "Fire! Fire!" Everybody rush come out. My leg dey shake for fear, but I still dey watch.

Small fire just turn big fire sharp-sharp.

You know say Lagos fire no dey waste time. Small flame, next minute, na inferno. I dey reason say if not for security, the whole block fit don roast.

My hand begin sweat—I wan rush go downstairs go quench am, but thank God say estate security people come quick, use fire extinguisher kill the fire.

Na so dem show, as if dem dey expect am. One of them, Femi, na my guy—e sabi his work. Dem come with two big extinguisher, spray am everywhere. Everybody dey shout, but e be like say dem don do this kind thing before.

By the time dem finish, the Cayenne don burn sotay you no fit recognize am again.

Na only the Porsche badge still dey shine small for bonnet. The rest, na black charcoal. For my mind, I dey pity the owner. That kind money, if person lose am, na hospital e go land.

The only better news be say nobody wound, and the cars wey park near am no catch fire.

Na so all the neighbors dey thank God say e no pass like that. If fire catch the other cars, na different talk we for dey talk now. The air still dey hot with smoke.

My small cousin run the moment the fire start, just dash enter our building. E run like rat wey see cat. Na so e vanish, nobody see am again for compound. Me sef dey fear for am, but I know say e no go fit hide for long.

I see the estate people dey do video evidence and dey check the car info. Dem dey waka up and down, dey point, dey record everything for phone. Even one small girl dey use her mama phone dey do TikTok.

The burnt Cayenne park for my spot, so I know say dem go soon knock our door. Na there my mind start dey race. I dey count down seconds, dey pray make dem no blame me join.

I look back for parlour—my uncle and aunty, my cousin papa and mama, still dey laugh dey watch WhatsApp videos for phone. Dem no even get single clue say their own pikin don nearly cause village meeting. The way dem dey laugh, you go think say na comedy show.

My own parents dey kitchen dey cook. Nobody even notice wetin just happen. For Yoruba house, kitchen na centre of activity, especially during celebration. My mama dey sing as she dey slice onions, papa dey help clean fish. Bliss, while outside, trouble dey brew.

My small cousin sneak come back, e eyes dey waka anyhow, fear dey catch am. You go think say rat enter e pocket. Eyes red, face pale, e dey sweat. E know say if dem catch am, story don finish for today.

E know say wahala don land am. E just bone, go one corner of the parlour go sit down. Na there e go cross leg, as if say e no know wetin dey happen. But e body dey shake small. I see am dey look clock every two seconds.

E empty all the remaining banger from e pocket, throw am for dustbin—e dey try hide evidence. E dey look left and right, sweat dey drip for e forehead, hand dey shake as e pour the banger. Like thief wey police dey pursue. For Naija, if small pikin dey fear, na so so hide and seek. But evidence dey always show.

After e waka, I sharply wrap the trash inside black nylon, make e no cause another wahala. I sabi say if dem see am, wahala fit double. As e dey, I carry am go backyard, tie am well. For estate, evidence no dey last.

My small cousin just quiet for sofa like rat. As I dey look am, I dey vex but e still dey funny me small. E just press remote, dey pretend dey watch cartoon. For my mind, I dey laugh. Na small pikin, but wahala pass e age. Small pikin, but wahala full body—like area boy for Oshodi.

My old car no too get value, so nobody send when e dey throw banger. But now, e don burst Porsche Cayenne—this one fit scatter my uncle and aunty life. If na my own, dem no go even notice. But Porsche? Everybody go answer roll call today. E don cross the line.

If parents no fit train their pikin, na life go teach am. For this Lagos, if you spoil finish, na society go use cane teach you lesson. I just dey wait make wahala land—because for Lagos, breeze no dey blow for nothing.

This one no be play again—na court case fit reach.