Chapter 3 – The Street Don Call My Name
The first morning after I return from Surulere, I wake up with tears for eye and fire for chest. Mama still dey sleep, but I no fit rest. I sit outside look sky — sun never rise finish, but the air don already carry Lagos noise: okada horn, hawkers shout, church bell.
That moment, I realize say no matter how I try escape am, the street go always call my name.
I waka go junction go find small work for loading park. One man wey dem dey call Baba Eko dey there. Him be one of those agbero wey get power for area. I greet am humble.
"Baba, abeg, you get anything wey I fit do today?"
The man size me up, spit small for ground say, "You fit carry load?"
I nod.
"Then start there," he point one big trailer.
I no talk, I just start. Sweat full my body within minutes. Before afternoon reach, I don earn ₦800. E small, but I thank God. As I dey go house, one boy stop me — Wire.
That same Wire wey wan stab me before.
He look me with grin wey no sweet. "Seyi, you don dey work for my side now, abi? You go pay area tax."
I look am, try keep calm. "Wire, abeg, make we no start wahala again. Na small I get."
Before I finish, him push me. I nearly fall, but I catch myself. Something inside me snap. I look am straight. "Wire, I no go pay you one naira."
The place quiet small. Then him laugh loud, say, "This boy don grow wings o!" Before e move near me, Baba Eko shout from far, "Wire! Leave the boy. He dey my side."
That day, I know say God still dey watch me small-small.
Two weeks later, Baba Eko call me say he like how I dey work. He talk say he wan make me handle loading line under him. Na big deal for area boys. But he talk one thing wey weak me — "Seyi, you go dey drop my own cut every day."
I no like am, but hunger no give me option. I start dey manage. Every night, I go reach house tired like say I fight lion. Mama go look me say, "My pikin, your eye dey red o."
I go just smile say, "No worry mama, e go better."
But e no really better fast. One evening, police raid park. Na confusion everywhere. Some boys run, some hide under truck. Me, I no fit run because I dey carry cement.
One police grab me shout, "You be one of them abi?"
Before I talk, slap land my face.
Dem throw me for van with other boys.
Inside that van, I see fear, anger, and silence. I no cry, but my heart dey pound. For that moment, I remember mama words — "The world go misunderstand you, but God no go."
For station, dem pack us like goat. The air smell of sweat and wickedness. One officer say, "Who fit pay bail?" Nobody talk.
I just dey think say, "So na like this people dey suffer for nothing."
Around midnight, I hear one familiar voice — "Na my boy be that!" Na Baba Eko. He bring money, talk to the officer. Within ten minutes, dem release me.
Outside, he pat my back say, "You be correct boy. I go train you."
But me, I no know say the training wey him dey talk no be about better life. Na deep street life.
Days turn weeks. Baba Eko start send me small errand — deliver envelope, collect cash from drivers, sometimes follow him for night meeting. I begin see things wey my mama prayer no go like.
One night, as we dey meet for one dark corner under bridge, one rival gang enter with cutlass. Na serious fight. I see blood. I see fear. I run, but before I reach safe side, I see one boy fall beside me — knife don enter him chest. Na Bobo. My own guy.
I freeze. Everything slow down. Bobo look me with weak smile say, "Seyi… no let street take you finish." Then him eye close.
I scream. Tears, dust, and anger full my head. That night change me forever.
I go back home 2 a.m., my cloth full blood. Mama rush out. "Seyi! Wetin happen?"
I just kneel down cry. "Mama, street don take Bobo. I no fit continue like this again."
She hug me tight, whisper Yoruba: "Ọmọ mi, aye o rorun, ṣùgbọ́n ìwọ má jẹ́ kí o da ọ́ lórí. Iwọ ni mo ní."
("My child, life no easy, but no let it break you. You're all I have.")
That night, I swear say I go change. I go leave that park. I no care wetin anybody talk.
Next morning, I go meet Baba Eko say I no fit continue. He look me long, then smile coldly. "Seyi, nobody dey leave this business like that."
I know say trouble go soon start.
That same week, strange boys start follow me home. Mama notice. "Seyi, who be those boys?" I say, "Nothing, Mama." But I know say the street wan pull me back.
I hide two days, no go park. On the third day, police come our area again — this time for real shootout between rival gangs. People run everywhere. I carry mama hide under table. Bullets dey fly for air like mosquito.
When e calm small, we see smoke, we see blood. Mama hold me say, "You see your life? Na so Lagos dey swallow people."
That night, I no fit sleep. I sit outside with candle and paper wey I find for ground. I start write something for the first time in my life:
"I no wan die like animal. I no wan fade for street. I go rise. Even if na from gutter, I go rise."
Na there my dream start — not just to survive, but to live.
The street don call my name, but I no go answer again.