Up NEPA!: Smiles in the Dark by Ogoke Nzubechukwu Victoria

“Mtchew”

Naza hissed as she opened her defrosted fridge. The smell hit her first. She had just returned from work, tired and hungry, only to meet melted ice, plates of soured soup, and fish already turning. There had been no electricity all day. No water either. Her eyes burned, but she blinked the tears away. The food was meant to last two weeks. Food prices were no joke. 20,000 naira could not cook a proper pot of soup. Throwing them into the trash felt like tearing money in half.

She grabbed a bucket and went to knock on Abigail’s door. “Good evening. Please tell me you still have water in your drum.”

Abigail laughed and took the bucket from her. “I told you to buy your own. But you had faith in NEPA. Come inside jor.”

Naza waited by the door while Abigail filled the bucket.

“You just saved my life. Heat wants to roast me,” Naza said. Back in her self-contained apartment, Naza bathed quickly and cooked two packs of noodles. It was too hot to eat inside and her fan had not charged properly.

Most of the neighbours were already outside, chatting and enjoying the evening breeze. She sat with them quietly.

“My food spoiled,” a young woman complained. “Is it my peanut salary that will sustain me like this?”

“At least you have a peanut salary,” someone replied. “I’ve been job hunting for months. They want ten years’ experience. Where will I get it?”

Naza nodded. “I tire. My food also spoiled. I had to settle for noodles.”

“Even Iya Maureen’s frozen foods got bad,” Abigail added as she joined them. “I saw her crying earlier this evening.”

“Really— what’s that smell!?”

A burning smell suddenly cut through the air.

“Fire! Fire!”

Smoke poured from a window on the first floor. Naza’s heart jumped into her throat. She dropped her plate and ran upstairs with the others. The smoke scratched her lungs as she coughed, eyes watering. Buckets of water she had no idea where they came from flew. They dragged eleven-year-old Tobi out at last.

“Why were you playing with matches?” Abigail scolded gently.

“It was dark,” he sobbed. “I wanted to light a candle.”

“Where is your daddy?” someone asked.

“Still in traffic,” another neighbour said after making a call.

A man nearby muttered, “What about his mom…?”

Bassey interrupted him with an eye signal. “His mom died during that doctors’ strike,” Bassey whispered to him.

The words settled heavily on Naza. She looked at Tobi differently. Her wasted food no longer felt like the worst thing darkness could take.

Abigail’s younger sister returned later than expected, explaining that the fuel price had increased again and she had searched for a cheaper place.

“Next time, call me,” Abigail said, hugging her.

Then a voice rang from upstairs.

“Up NEPA!”

Naza’s heart leapt. A joyful squeal escaped her lips as she sprang to her feet, ready to rush inside. She even forgot her plate on the bench.

“Na lie o!”

The smile dropped. Hisses rose around the compound. Only then did Naza notice every other person had left their seats too.

“How far, relax o. It’s not funny,” Bassey yelled as he walked back to where he was seated.

Abigail laughed. “Let me go and put on my gen jare.”

One by one, they returned to their seats. The generator roared to life, swallowing their voices but not their laughter.

Naza watched them. Just hours ago, she had cried over spoiled food. Upstairs, a boy had nearly burned because of the darkness. Somewhere on the road, a tired father was still stuck in traffic. Yet here they were, arguing, teasing, laughing.

“All this drama in one night,” she muttered.

The lights did not come back on.

But somehow, the smiles did.