This is how Tade almost lost his head. Tade left his house at Agege, that fateful evening. He had no destination in mind. He just kept walking. And walking. Like a homeless mongrel. Truth be told, he wasn’t different from one. His landlord had thrown him out to the streets. Perhaps, he would live under a bridge.

Tade walked aimlessly till he walked into a shed, “Mama Sikira’s Kitchen.” With his empty pockets. Three wraps of fufu and egusi soup. Goat meat. Empty pockets. Perhaps he was mad just as he was homeless. He ate till his stomach was close to explosion, drank the “pure water” he was served and made to leave.

This is the part where Tade almost lost his head. Mama Sikira tugged hard at his tattered shirt with shouts of “Thief! Pay me my money!” Tade clasped his hands in prayer to Mama Sikira. Her shouts alerted area boys already. Tyre was set. Petrol was on the way. Tade could see death. But at that moment the big man came in. You know all these big men that like roadside food. He paid Tades bill. All is not lost, Tade’s head would stay in place.