Knife Edge

ding beside Dagogo was Amadi's father, who had been contacted by a phone found on Amadi's corpse. Amadi's father was a grey haired short man, who was quite close to ground. Dagogo had na

mile and tears. He loaded words of blessings on Dagogo. Dagogo smiled at the old man and thanked him. It reduced the strain within himself. Though the questions bugged Dagogo's mind. His role in Amadi's death. A serial kill

*

ding, what would you advice in my situation?" Dago

oke, staring throu

in my wife's death.

r wi

out the cig

hat's t

ogo's side eye foun

e against government, do you

nt a glan

me students who

w m

wo

ed his face

m? You know th

ing..." Dagogo cracked

s not beyon

ids, students,

s smi

s, Mr la

e is Dag

will also involv

ead a bit, alongside

s quite alright, f

e." Rogers spoke to himself an

ny other witne

work, tweaking his eyebrows, a

e sends out messages. It depends

rigid for a moment, p

in person, you will call m

steering wheel and found hi

ave the devi

gogo to stop. He exited the car and entered his gate. Dagog

*

er space. He took off his glasses, laying his head on the seat, his mouth produced a breathing sound — fuck. He closed his eyes and his thoughts beat to the rhythm of his heart, until his phone rang. The phone sat on the dashboard, displaying his wife's contact top screen. Cecile. Perfect timing. Wahala. In Naija pidgin english it meant trouble. If he needed more of that, his wife was the best person to provide it. A conversation between them was cat and dogs. It had been

you..." His voice w

ake Sonia?" Cecile launched on high pitch. "I went to her schoo

deep breath

e! My daughter changes scho

n her mouth and fire sho

her improve her studies, she needs it...

daughter's life, that I should fucking know about it ri

c freed up and cars began moving. "Cecile, S

.you're fucking trying to keep her away f

he least hurtful words. He found none. "

he took the phone off loudspeaker. T

lying cheating son of a bitc

me when you're ready for a co

*

nd bulb and entered the house. He went past his receptionist desk with printing and photocopying machines beside it, unto his living room which was also his office. The fine couches, TV and glass center table had a space of their own, separate from his work chair where he sat with a cup of coffee, and a desk which had a wooden nameplate and his name writt

he had motivation. Dagogo left his mental space and picked up a photo album by his bedside. Since his father's death, it lived on a stool, just an arm stretch away. He flipped the album pages to his thirteenth birthday. His dad attended. A very rare occurrence. Flip forward, and there was a picture of a fishing adventure. Him and his dad on a boat. Dagogo recalled cursing the water all through. Fath

art. Sometimes Dagogo wondered at the yoking of a gentle American woman and a radical Naij

m." Dago

was you. Dagogo, I thought you

s, and dropped it beside t

dang

a flattened twist. He k

the Naija government. That's why we lost

parking rush in his veins. He turned to the side, stared at

e same as everyone else" — Dagogo laid upright, his sight went to the roof — "The

s when he phoned her and broke the news. 20th of October was when her tears became

care

nigh

his tears we

night

is father's last text. Mr Dum

lot of wrong, but my son, maybe deep down, it wasn't jus

d to the

hould not