— The Man They're All Waiting For
Dust and Silk
Ngozi's compound always smelled like fried palm oil and gossip.
Amaka sat on the low stool under the mango tree, slapping mosquitoes off her leg and poking roasted groundnut into her mouth like the world offended her.
"Wait o," Ngozi leaned in. "So you just walked out?"
Amaka snorted. "You want make I clap for him? That man left my mother to drink sorrow like ogogoro and now he wants what— a hug?"
Ngozi hissed. "That's the problem with these village men. They vanish like money and come back like flu."
They both laughed, though Amaka's laugh had teeth.
Ngozi handed her a piece of coconut. "But your mama… how is she?"
"She's trying to pretend like she doesn't care, but I saw her staring at the wall last night. I think she still feels something."
Ngozi shook her head. "You better monitor that feeling before she forgives him and he starts calling family meeting in your parlour."
Amaka groaned. "God forbid."
Just then, a group of children ran past the compound. One had chalk drawings on his chest like he was preparing for war. Another had a wrapper tied like a queen. They were shouting:
"New visitor is coming! Big man o!"
"They say he will build hospital!"
"Mama said I should polish my shoe!"
"Me I will wear my red hair scarf!"
Amaka and Ngozi paused mid-coconut.
"Ehn?" Amaka raised an eyebrow. "Who is coming again?"
Ngozi grabbed one of the girls by the ear. "Nneka, come here."
The girl squealed. "Aunty Ngozi! Leave my ear!"
"Talk before I twist it into zobo. Who is coming?"
"Big man o! Mama said he's very rich. Village chief say we will do welcome party. He is coming from the city!"
Ngozi let her go and blinked at Amaka. "You hear that?"
"I hear spirit," Amaka muttered, popping another groundnut.
The girl continued, "And they said he will help the village! Maybe bring water and build one company like that!"
Ngozi gasped dramatically. "God! Amaka, this is our breakthrough!"
"Breakthrough ke?" Amaka scoffed. "You want to wear wrapper and dance for man you don't know?"
"But what if he's fine?" Ngozi said, smiling like goat near leaf.
"Abeg. Go and brush your teeth first. Your destiny helper cannot meet you with yam smell."
Ngozi threw a kernel at her. "You're just jealous because he'll pick me to work in his office and you'll still be selling bitter leaf!"
They both burst into loud laughter.
Amaka stood up and stretched. "Every time one man enters this village, all of you suddenly start dreaming like night market."
"But you won't lie," Ngozi said, wiping tears of laughter. "This village has been dry like garri in harmattan. At least let us have one big man to look at."
They started walking back slowly toward the footpath.
Amaka shook her head. "Watch now. They'll gather to sing with plastic chairs and fufu-stained wrappers. By the time the man arrives, half the women will have powdered their neck like yam."
Ngozi added, "And the other half will faint for him."
They laughed again. Loud and free.
But even as they joked, there was a ripple in the air — the kind that came before rain, before change.
Something was coming.
Or someone.
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Just as the laughter between Amaka and Ngozi was fading into soft giggles, Amaka's mother's voice rang out across the compound like thunder with wrapper:
"Amaka! Amaka o! Come and buy what I told you before market people close!"
Amaka rolled her eyes. "This woman can never let me rest."
Ngozi chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll follow you. Maybe we'll hear more about this our village savior."
The girls tied their wrappers tighter, grabbed their baskets, and headed down the dusty road to Nkwo market, still buzzing with the silly energy of their earlier conversation.
But once they stepped into the market square, the energy shifted.
Voices. Movement. Color.
Every stall had at least two women gossiping while arranging vegetables or turning fried akara. The scent of spice and talk filled the air like perfume and pepper mixed together.
They hadn't gone three stalls in before Mama Urenna spotted them.
"Ehen! Amaka! Ngozi! You people are just strolling when your fellow girls are looking for husband o!"
Amaka rolled her eyes. "Good afternoon, ma."
"Good afternoon kill you there. Have you heard the news?"
Ngozi grinned. "Aunty, which one again?"
"Which one? So you people have not heard? This village is about to become Lekki!"
Three other women shouted at once like backup singers:
"E go shock you!"
"They say the man is tall like electric pole!"
"Rich like ten Dangote!"
Amaka gave Ngozi a look. Ngozi held her laugh.
Mama Urenna continued, lowering her voice dramatically. "They said he's building a company here. And they say his shoes alone are imported!"
Mama Ozioma, the fish seller next to her, leaned over. "Imported? My sister, I heard that even his voice has accent! You greet him 'good morning' and he will say 'it's alright darling'."
Ngozi coughed into her hand, trying not to burst.
Amaka, ever the chaos conductor, asked innocently, "Do you know his name?"
Mama Ozioma raised her hands. "We don't know yet o! All we know is that the village chief say we should prepare. That a 'high-calibre man' is coming to change the village."
Mama Nkechi from the spice stall shouted from two tables down, "Prepare ke? Me I don buy new blouse! I will greet him myself. If he needs personal assistant, I am ready!"
Another woman near the okra pile added, "He's not married, o! They said he's single. And the way our girls are walking about half-naked these days, eh…"
They all sighed together.
Ngozi pulled Amaka to the side. "This market will kill me with laughter."
Amaka whispered, "I told you. Let one rich man sneeze and the whole village will dance."
Just then, Mama Urenna grabbed Amaka's and Ngozi arms. "My daughters, you are very beautiful o. Don't go and miss this opportunity. You never know, the man might see you and say 'that is my wife!' Just make sure your hair is fine that day. And rub powder, not that your usual cassava face!"
Ngozi screamed, "Aunty!"
Amaka snatched her arm back, laughing. "I'm just here to buy onions!"
Mama Nkechi shouted, "Buy onions today, marry millionaire tomorrow!"
They laughed as they moved from stall to stall. But even as Amaka pretended not to care, a tiny voice inside her chest whispered:
"Who is this man really?"
"And why is everyone already dreaming of him?"
She shook the thought away. "Abeg," she said to Ngozi as they picked okra, "another village drama. We go watch like film."
But she had no idea that she would be the leading actress soon enough.
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