I wanted to scream, to make a noise, and to let the tears trickle down my eyes, but I couldn’t and I didn't know why. There were so many people here and the house didn’t feel like the home it had been to me all these past years. I walked out of my room and wriggled my way through the crowd of people in the house. Some of them weren’t well-wishers in the sense of the word, they were only here to confirm the news they’ve heard.  

“Ada kedu?” my aunty asked. 

I only nodded my head in reply to her as I couldn't find the best response in words. I didn’t know how I was or how I felt. Maybe that was it. I felt empty. I needed to have some weight put in me. To feel what I should have felt since 3 hours ago. My mother was in her room, and my younger siblings were with her. The living room was thronging with more relatives, none of whom cared to ask how I felt or where I was going, much to my relief. The last thing I wanted at that moment was to engage in a question-answer conversation with anyone. 

I walked out into the compound, into the peering eyes of neighbors and family friends, some smiled at me and some others shook their heads in pity, while the rest hurdled in groups and discussed things I couldn't pay attention to. Adamu opened the gate for me to walk outside to the street. There was no difference in the world at all. Asides the number of people present in my house right now, there was nothing else to show that my father had truly left this world. I felt so humbled. Vanity. The way everything seemed to continue as if no one died. The trees that lined each side of the street swayed at the touch of the evening breeze, the little birds that usually stayed to sing on them were not present. Maybe this was the difference. Maybe they knew too. Maybe like me, they had gone to find the ‘weight’.

 I walked slowly like someone in a trance, unable to move my body any faster than that. I didn’t know where I was going. Until an idea popped into my head. The house is currently filled with some of my father’s relatives, they have begun planning the burial rites already. Afterwards, they would insist on taking over the properties. That group of greedy uncles. I knew what I had to do and who I needed to meet. I began to walk faster now. Like someone who knew where they were going and for which purpose.

 His house was five streets away and it didn’t take me so long to get there. I was standing in front of the burglary proof gate that was designed to prevent intruders from coming into his verandah. My heartbeat was faster now and I was unsure if I should announce my presence or not. I wasn’t even sure he had heard the news yet. AK has he’s popularly called in the area, is not my friend. But he does owe me the favor I was going to ask of him now. I wouldn’t refer to him as a tout, nobody dared to. AK would deal with anyone that referred to him with such a degrading name. 

He had a job in a local bakery,  but in the evenings and on the days he didn’t go to work like today, he would stay at the street junction and beg people returning from different places of their hard earned money. It was much better to refer to him in the popular Nigerian slang; egbon adugbo. I had given him money a couple of times on my way back from work, and he would always raise both his hands up, stamp his foot on the ground and say, “Mamah! After you na you. If anybody disturbs you in this area, no fear. AK dey for you, your wahala na my own”. 

Now I had a ‘wahala’, an urgent one. I braced herself up and banged on the gate. After the third one, I heard him shout from inside his apartment, “break am down! Na your forefather do the gate abi?’. At this point, I knew I  had struck his nerves. After another couple of minutes, he came out, holding his knicker by the side with his left hand. “Ahh mamah, na you”, his face softened and his dark lips broke into a smile.

 “Yes AK”“Wetin do you. Why you look like this It was then I realized how I had left the house. Being a person that took her appearance seriously, I  had never been caught looking ‘unkempt’ at any time of the day. Now I was still dressed in my nightwear, my hair roughly tousled. I looked at my feet, I was wearing a pair of bathroom slippers. 

“My papa don die,” I said, almost casually. I  was still yet to feel the weight I wanted to feel. To crush beneath it and have all the tears and sadness welling up in my  roll out. AK stared at me with a look of pity in his eyes. I could tell what he was thinking, ‘if losing someone’s father could be the beginning of madness’. “Ehyaaa, chai. That good man. I still see am yesterday morning when he drive pass junction. Sorry mamah. You gats take heart oo. Be strong”, he replied in the usual Nigerian manner.

 “Thank you. I need your help,” I said, going straight to the point. “Anything mamah. You sef don dey for me many times” I looked around us to make sure no one was around to overhear our conversation. As if just remembering his manners, he invited me into his house. All the while apologizing for how untidy his living room looked. I forced a smile and told him it was no problem. After asking if I  would like to drink some water, and I declined, I went straight to the point again. “My father is dead like I said before, only about two hours ago. His relatives have filled up my house and I fear what may happen next.”

“Them dey disturb una?” he asked“ Not yet. That’s why I'm here to see you. I fear that they would soon make plans on taking my father’s properties, leaving me, my mother and three siblings to nothing. And this is where I need your help. I need you to help me gather some boys and warn them off. Tell them to get rid of any such thoughts they might have, and you never want them to disturb my family ever.” He looked at me as I spoke, and a little smile spread out on his lips. 

He loved going on errands like this, warning people and scaring them off someone else or some property. Sometimes, he helps creditors collect their money back from unrepentant debtors. In some cases, he had to beat the person he was sent to meet. Six foot four inches tall, AK was muscularly built with chiseled arms and a thickened chest. He was dark in complexion and had a lot of tattoos on his body. The most intriguing one was the one on the left side of his chest. A drawing of a snake curled around a human skull. He had a big scar on the right side of his forehead, rumors had it that he had gotten injured in a street fight and had gotten a strike of his opponent’s machete. 

His appearance and records of all his dealings had been what had prompted me to reach out to him. He is the right man for the job. “Give me two minutes mamah” he said and went into one of the rooms. I assumed that he had gone to change. My thoughts were proven right when he returned to the living room, wearing a pair of black joggers and a black singlet with a pair of matching red canvas. He lit up a cigarette and asked me to lead the way to my house. 

This was it. I knew it was going to work out. The way everyone shuddered in fear when he entered the compound, I could hear their whisperings, asking why he was here and why I was with him. It was more satisfying to see the look on Uncle Okoro’s face, he would have shit his pants if AK had not turned his face away from his side while he warned them all. Aunty Ginika kept saying she wasn’t part of any of their plans. The others had been silent as if they lost their voices, and Pa Okia, he tried to be defiant, he was the family head after all and needed to rescue his manhood, he didn’t want to seem like he was cowering in fear like the others.

 I thanked AK profusely, he had come to do it alone even though I suggested he called some others to join him. Well, only the result matters anyway. The look of relief on my mother’s face had given me more joy than I could explain. It meant freedom and security for her, while it meant pride for me as an Ada.