CHAPTER ONE
The street lies quiet โ too quiet for trouble.
Morning dew cling to the grass like shy visitors refusing to go home.
Birds flutter lazily from pole to pole, gossiping about nothing important.
The road stretch emptyโno cars, no pedestrians, not even the occasional hawker who usually break the silence at dawn.
It was peaceful. Calm. Perfect.
Exceptโฆ Tundeโs stomach โ that has other plans.
He speed-walks down the deserted street with the posture of a man fighting invisible forces. His legs squeezing together, his back stiff, face scrunch in unspoken agony.
Every few steps โ he mutter a desperate prayer that sounds like a cross between tongues and survival instinct.
โOh no no noโฆ not now. Not here,โ he groan, one hand clutching his belly like he was holding a live grenade. โAbegโฆ hold it, Tunde. HOLD IT.โ
He freeze suddenly, bends forward with his hands on his knees. A dry breeze brush past him, carrying no comfort.
He scans the quiet neighborhood with panic-filled eyes. Surely someone will appear.
But the street remain stubbornly empty.
A faded sign, barely hanging from a rusted pole, creak beside an overgrown, bushy lot. The red lettering clearly aggressive:โNO DEFECATION OR URINATION. OFFENDERS WILL REGRET!โ
Tunde hiss weakly. โRegret? Iโm already regretting finishing a whole cup of pap. Who to blame if not hunger.โ
Movement catch his eye.
A man in spotless white step out of the bushโdusting his trousers, whistling a cheerful tune.
He look too calm. Too neat. Too untouched by the chaos of natureโs bowel battles.
Tunde gasp, eyes wide.โEhn? Didnโt he just finish the same business Iโm contemplating on?โ Relief wash over his face like salvation.
โIf this man was bold enough to break the rules and walk out smiling, then surely the sign is just one of those old warnings left behind from ancient village disputes.โ The thought run through his mind. Encouraged, Tunde waddle into the bush without further hesitation.
The leaves rustle for some moment and stills.
โฆto be continued
