Dear Reader, From Me

THE WHISPERING MARKET
Chapter 10

The afternoon sun blazed hot as the final bell rang. Children poured out of the school compound, chattering in clusters. Tobi and Sade walked quietly side by side, their books clutched to their chests. Neither of them mentioned the morning incident — but it sat heavily between them.

When they reached the narrow path, the smell of fried fish floated again on the breeze. Mama Ewa was still there, still at her usual spot.

This time, as they approached, she lifted her head immediately, as if she had been waiting for them. Her eyes found Tobi’s at once.

The pan hissed. The fish sizzled. And slowly, very slowly, her smile spread across her face.

Mama Ewa (softly, almost like a chant): “Ehn-ehn… my boy is back… my boy is back…”

Tobi froze mid-step, his chest tightening. The words were ordinary, yet the way she said them made his skin crawl.

Sade grabbed his arm and tugged.

Sade (low, urgent): “Let’s go. Don’t stop today. Just keep moving.”

They hurried past without buying, though the woman’s eyes never left them. Even when they turned the corner toward home, Tobi could feel it — that strange gaze boring into his back like a hot needle.

By the time they reached Sade’s house, their uniforms were damp with sweat. They greeted her mother politely at the doorway.

Sade & Tobi (together): “Good afternoon, ma.”
Sade’s Mom (smiling): “Welcome, my children. How was school?”
Sade: “Fine, ma.”

Her mother, then disappeared into the kitchen. Sade nudged Tobi toward the sink, and the two of them went about rinsing dishes and setting the table for lunch. It was their usual after-school routine, but Tobi was distant — his hands moved mechanically, his eyes far away.

They ate quickly, neither saying much. When they finished, Sade’s mom told them she would be going down the street to check on a neighbour. “Don’t waste your afternoon,” she warned as she tied her wrapper and stepped out.

The moment the front door closed, Tobi pushed his plate aside and stood up abruptly.

They carried their bags upstairs to Sade’s room, where the fan whirred lazily against the heat. Tobi dropped onto the bed, gripping his knees. Then he looked at Sade, his face pale and drawn.

Tobi (voice shaking): “Sade… I can’t believe my eyes. How? How can it be her? We buy fish from that woman almost every day. She even jokes with us sometimes! I’ve never offended her… so why? Why would she do something like this to me?”

He buried his face in his palms, trembling.

Sade sat beside him slowly, placing a hand on his shoulder. Her own heart thudded with fear, but she kept her tone calm, measured.

Sade (softly): “Tobi, relax. We can’t just jump to conclusions. Maybe… maybe she was only joking. Or maybe you misunderstood. Let’s not panic yet, okay?”

Her words sounded soothing, but inside she was not fooled. The look in Mama Ewa’s eyes, the way her voice had changed, the strange chant after school — it was no mistake. Deep down, Sade knew the truth: it was her. The fish seller. The very woman they trusted so easily.

She swallowed hard and forced another smile at Tobi.

> Sade (firmer this time): “Listen… what matters now is that we think carefully and act fast. If it’s really her, we need to figure out what she wants, and how to stop her. But you mustn’t let her see that you’re afraid.”

Tobi looked up at her, eyes glistening with both anger and confusion.

> Tobi: “But why me, Sade? Why me?”

Sade couldn’t answer that. She only held his gaze, hiding the dread that gnawed at her chest.

Because they both knew — tomorrow morning, they would have to face Mama Ewa again.

The house was quiet after dinner. Sade was bent over her homework on the floor, while Tobi sat on the bed, staring blankly at his exercise book. He hadn’t written a single word. His mind was still replaying the afternoon — the hiss of oil, the woman’s chanting voice, the way her eyes had pinned him down.

Just then, Sade’s phone buzzed on the table. She glanced at it and smiled.

Sade: “It’s your mummy.”

Tobi’s heart leapt. He grabbed the phone quickly, pressing it to his ear.

Tobi (softly, almost in a rush): “Mummy…”

On the other end, her voice was warm and steady, though he could hear the distance of travel in it.

Mama Tobi: “My boy… how are you? I’ve been thinking of you all day. Sade’s mum told me you looked worried this morning. Tell me the truth — have you and Sade been able to figure out anything? Any suspect?”

Tobi hesitated, glancing at Sade. She gave him a small nod, urging him on. He swallowed hard.

Tobi (voice shaking): “Mummy… we think it’s Mama Ewa… the woman that sells fried fish on our way to school. This morning she was… acting strange. She called me her boy and was looking at me in a way that made my skin crawl. Then this afternoon, when we passed again, she was chanting… like she knew something. Mummy, it was scary. I swear it was her.”

For a moment there was silence at the other end. Then Mama Tobi’s voice came, calm but firm.
Mama Tobi: “Alright. I hear you, my son. Don’t be afraid. I’m coming home tomorrow. Once I arrive, we’ll go and visit this fish seller together. We’ll look her in the eye and find out what is going on.”

Tobi sat upright, his pulse racing.

Tobi: “But mummy… is that a good idea? What if she’s really dangerous? What if she tries something again?”

His mother’s voice softened, carrying both strength and tenderness.

Mama Tobi: “Listen to me, Tobi. We cannot run away from this. Sometimes the only way to break fear is to face it. We’ll be careful, and I’ll be with you. Everything will be fine, I promise.”

Tobi blinked back sudden tears. Just hearing her voice gave him courage he hadn’t felt all day.

Mama Tobi (gently): “I love you, okay? You’re stronger than you think. Sleep well tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll face this together.”

Tobi whispered back, clinging to her words as if they were a shield.

Tobi: “I love you too, mummy… Bye.”

The call ended. He sat quietly for a while, clutching the phone. Sade watched him with a small smile.

Sade: “See? You’re not alone in this. We’ll fight it together.”

But as Tobi lay down to sleep that night, his heart still thudded with unease. Tomorrow was coming — and with it, the moment he would have to stand face to face with Mama Ewa again.

The Saturday sun was already hot by the time Tobi and Sade finished sweeping the compound. The scent of soap and wet sand hung in the air as they scrubbed the veranda tiles, the water glistening under the light. From the backyard, smoke from Sade’s mum’s cooking drifted in — beans simmering for breakfast.

Tobi tied the mouth of a nylon bag filled with swept dirt, his shirt sticking to his back with sweat. Sade carried the water bucket to the corner, her wrapper tucked tightly around her waist.

> Sade (panting): “Finally… we’re done. Now all that’s left is to wait for your mummy.”

Tobi nodded, though his stomach was a knot. He’d hardly slept the night before. The image of Mama Ewa’s chanting lips and piercing eyes had haunted his dreams.

They ate late breakfast — beans and pap — quietly. Every car horn on the street made Tobi’s heart jump. He kept looking at the clock on the wall, the big one with the golden frame in Sade’s parents’ sitting room.

At exactly 12 noon, they heard a car pull up outside. The engine cut. Doors slammed. Then hurried footsteps.

Sade peeked through the curtain and gasped.

> Sade (whispering): “She’s here… and she’s with someone.”

Tobi sprang up. His heart began to pound. He saw his mother step into the compound, her wrapper tied tight, sweat on her forehead, her face drawn with urgency. Behind her was a tall man in a simple white shirt tucked neatly into black trousers. He carried a worn leather Bible in one hand.

Tobi whispered in awe:

> Tobi: “He looks like a pastor…”

They barely had time to process before the front door opened. Mama Tobi swept inside, barely waiting for greetings.

> Mama Tobi (urgent tone): “Good afternoon, my in-laws, I greet you. Please forgive me, there is no time. I need to take these children immediately. We’ll be back, but we must go now.”

Sade’s mum, who had just been sitting on the couch, stood up quickly, alarmed. Her husband, still in his singlet and wrapper, frowned deeply.

> Sade’s Mum: “Ah-ah, sister, what is going on? Where are you rushing them to like this?”

> Sade’s Dad (serious): “Yes, explain yourself. You can’t just come in like whirlwind and carry children.”

The pastor-like man stood quietly by the door, his face calm but unreadable. He said nothing, just watching.

Mama Tobi wrung her hands, pacing slightly.

> Mama Tobi: “Please, just trust me. It’s about the matter we discussed. We have found a suspect. I cannot explain everything now, but the earlier we act, the better. If we delay, things might get worse.”

Sade’s dad exchanged a sharp look with his wife.

> Sade’s Dad: “Found a suspect? In what? These are children, o. You must talk clearly before I allow anybody to follow you out.”

Tobi stepped forward, his voice small but firm.

> Tobi: “Uncle, it’s true. It’s about the woman selling fish on our way to school. She’s the one… I know it. Mummy said we’ll go and see her.”

The room fell into a heavy silence. Sade’s mum clutched her wrapper tighter.

> Sade’s Mum (worried): “This sounds dangerous… Shouldn’t we go as a family? Or call someone else to follow?”

Mama Tobi shook her head quickly.

> Mama Tobi: “No. The fewer people that go, the better. Please, just trust me this once. Let me handle it.”

There was a long back-and-forth — raised voices, worried murmurs, nervous glances. Finally, Sade’s dad sighed heavily, scratching his head.

> Sade’s Dad: “Hmm. I don’t like this. But since you say you know what you are doing, and since the children seem to believe you… fine. But please, be careful. We don’t want stories.”

Mama Tobi grabbed Tobi’s hand, then Sade’s.

> Mama Tobi (firm): “Thank you. I promise, I will bring them back safe.”

The pastor-like man gave a single nod of reassurance, and with that, they all hurried out of the sitting room.

Tobi’s heart was racing. The moment he had dreaded was here. They were going to face Mama Ewa.

To be continued....
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THE WHISPERING MARKET By Priscilla Kojusola
Chapter 9

The next day felt long for Tobi and Sade. Classes dragged on, and though they laughed with friends here and there, their minds were elsewhere. Every time the school bell rang, Tobi’s heart beat faster, wondering if this was the “day” Mama Tobi had spoken of. But nothing unusual happened in school.

When the closing bell finally rang, they walked home together, the weight of silence between them heavier than their school bags. The afternoon sun pressed down, hot and sticky. Tobi kicked a small stone on the road, watching it roll. Sade adjusted her bag straps. Neither of them wanted to say what they were thinking — maybe his mother’s words would mean nothing.

At last, they turned into Sade’s compound. Her mother was in the sitting room, removing the scarf from her head and fanning herself with a hand fan. She smiled warmly as they entered.

> Sade’s Mom: “Welcome, my children. How was school today?”

> Both: “Good afternoon, ma.”

> Sade: “It was fine, ma.”

She asked a few more questions — Did you eat in school? Any assignments? How are you coping? — then dismissed them with a smile.

In the kitchen, the sink was stacked with plates. With a sigh, Sade rolled up her sleeves.

> Sade: “Come on, Tobi, let’s wash these before Mommy starts complaining.”

Tobi joined her, grumbling playfully but scrubbing anyway. Soap bubbles foamed as they worked side by side, water dripping onto the floor. It felt normal, like old times.

Afterward, they warmed the food Sade’s mom had prepared — jollof rice with fried plantain — and ate together at the dining table, laughing at Tobi’s poor attempt at peeling the plantain skin earlier. For a moment, Tobi almost forgot the weight of his mother’s absence.

Later, they went upstairs to Sade’s room. She switched on the small TV and slotted in one of her DVDs. A Nigerian comedy movie started playing, and the room filled with laughter from the screen. They sprawled on the bed, half-watching, half-talking, occasionally throwing popcorn at each other.

Then, suddenly — the landline rang downstairs.

The shrill sound pierced through their laughter, and both fell silent, looking at each other.

> Sade: “Who could be calling at this time?”

They hurried downstairs. Sade’s mom answered the phone first. Her face shifted from relaxed to concerned as she listened. Then she placed her palm over the receiver and called out:

> Sade’s Mom: “Tobi… it’s your mother. She wants to speak with you.”

The world froze for Tobi. His hands trembled as he reached for the phone. His throat felt dry.

> Mama Tobi (voice faint, urgent): “Tobi, my son… I’m sorry for leaving on such short notice. I know you have many questions, but I can’t tell you where I am now. It’s not safe. Believe me, it’s for the best. You must stay strong. Tomorrow, on your way to school, watch carefully. Be extremely observant. The truth will reveal itself. The person is right before your eyes.”

> Tobi: “Mummy… mummy wait, please—”

The line went dead.

Tobi stood there holding the receiver long after the call ended, staring as though his mother’s voice might still echo from it. His chest tightened, his stomach churned.

Sade touched his arm gently.

> Sade: “What did she say?”

He swallowed hard. His voice was shaky when he finally spoke.

> Tobi: “She said… tomorrow. On our way to school… if I’m observant, I’ll find out who it is. Sade, she said it’s someone I know… but at the same time, a stranger.”

The words hung heavy in the room. Sade’s mom looked at the two of them, puzzled but not pressing further.

The children went back upstairs, but this time they didn’t resume the movie. The DVD menu screen blinked on repeat, casting a dim blue light over their worried faces.

> Sade (softly): “Then tomorrow, we have to look at everyone. Nobody must be ignored.”

Tobi nodded, though his mind spun with fear and curiosity. That night, as the house grew quiet, both of them lay awake in their separate beds, listening to the ticking of the clock, waiting for morning — waiting for the truth.

The night had been long for Tobi. He tossed and turned on the mattress in the small guest room at Sade’s house, his mother’s words echoing in his head:
“…but watch carefully tomorrow. If you’re observant enough, you’ll see who it is.”

He sat up before dawn, staring at the dim outline of the curtain fluttering against the window. When Sade’s mother called everyone downstairs for breakfast, he dragged himself out slowly, face heavy with sleep.

The smell of akara and pap greeted him in the dining room. Sade’s mom had already set the table neatly, her wrapper tied firmly around her waist. She smiled warmly when Tobi entered.

> Sade’s Mom: “Good morning, my son. You didn’t sleep well?”
Tobi (forcing a smile): “Good morning, ma. I… I’m fine.”

Sade was already seated, her school uniform crisp, her braids tied neatly with ribbons. She gave him a curious look but didn’t say anything in front of her mother.

They ate quietly, the sound of cutlery clinking on plates filling the room. Afterward, Tobi and Sade helped to clear the dishes into the kitchen. Sade washed, Tobi rinsed and placed them on the rack to dry. It was an ordinary morning routine, but his hands trembled slightly as he worked.

When it was time to leave, Sade’s mom adjusted her daughter’s collar and handed both of them some money.

> Sade’s Mom: “Don’t spend too much on junk food, you hear? Go straight to school and come straight back. No loitering.”
They both chorused a quick, “Yes ma,” before stepping out into the bright morning.

The narrow path to school was already awake. Children in uniforms hurried along, traders arranged their goods, and the sound of hawkers calling filled the air. The familiar smell of fried fish drifted toward them before they even turned the corner.

And there she was — Mama Ewa, the fish seller.

She sat on her low wooden stool, wrapper tied high, headscarf slightly tilted, her hands busy turning golden pieces of fish in the wide black pan. Oil hissed and spat, smoke curling upward in lazy spirals. She had been there for as long as Tobi could remember, greeting children on their way to school, sometimes teasing them, always with her warm laugh.

But today… she didn’t laugh.

As they drew nearer, Mama Ewa raised her head slowly. Her eyes fixed on Tobi — steady, unblinking, searching. A faint, thin smile tugged at her lips, but it wasn’t her usual one. It was… different. Almost secretive.

Tobi’s steps faltered. He felt Sade’s shoulder brush against his, her posture stiffening beside him.

> Sade (whispering): “Why is she staring like that?”

They usually stopped to buy a piece or two before school, but this time, neither of them moved toward the stall. Still, Mama Ewa’s gaze didn’t shift. It followed Tobi alone, as though Sade wasn’t even there.

For a long moment, the chatter of the street seemed to fade. All Tobi could hear was the sizzle of fish and his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Then, just as they passed, her lips moved. The words were quiet, almost lost beneath the crackle of oil, but Tobi heard them.

> Mama Ewa (murmuring): “The boy doesn’t know… not yet.”

He stopped dead, his breath catching in his throat. Sade froze too, glancing sharply at him.

> Sade (alarmed whisper): “Tobi… what did she just say?”
Tobi (shaken): “I… I think… she’s the one.”

They didn’t look back. They couldn’t. They hurried down the path, the weight of her stare still burning against Tobi’s back until they reached the main road.

School felt strange that day. Teachers taught, classmates laughed, but Tobi and Sade couldn’t shake the feeling. Every time he tried to focus, he remembered Mama Ewa’s eyes, her voice, her words.

By the time the closing bell rang, they both knew one thing for certain:
The woman frying fish on the narrow path — the one they had trusted and greeted every morning — was not as ordinary as she seemed.

To be continued.....
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THE WHISPERING MARKET By Priscilla Kojusola
Chapter 8

The next morning, Tobi’s mom stepped out of her room, fully dressed and looking sharper than usual. But what caught Tobi’s attention was the small traveling bag in her hand.

“Mama… why are you carrying a traveling bag?” Tobi asked, frowning.

She glanced at him, then set the bag down for a moment.
“Tobi, you’ll have to stay at Sade’s house for some time,” she said gently. “I’ve already spoken with her parents.”

Tobi blinked in confusion. “Why? Where are you going?”

“I can’t tell you for security reasons,” she replied, her tone firm but warm. “Just know it’s for the best—for you.”

He opened his mouth to press further, but her look told him there would be no more answers.

“Mama…” he said softly.

She smiled sadly and stepped forward, pulling him into a long, tight hug. “Be good. I’ll come back to you.”

And that was all. She picked up her bag, gave him one last look, and walked out the door.

Sade’s parents welcomed Tobi warmly when he arrived that morning, though he could feel the unspoken questions in their eyes. Mama Sade gave him a small plate of yam porridge for breakfast, insisting he eat before going to school.

“Thank you, ma,” he said quietly, still thinking about his mom’s mysterious trip.

Sade nudged him under the table. “Stop frowning, you’ll scare my little brother,” she whispered with a half-smile, trying to lighten the mood.

After school, the two of them returned to her house together. It felt strange for Tobi to drop his bag in a room that wasn’t his own. Sade’s parents had cleared a small space in the guest room for him—a neatly folded blanket, an extra pillow, and space in the wardrobe.

That evening at dinner, the atmosphere was warm but not the same. Every time Sade’s father asked Tobi something—about school, about food—he answered politely, but his mind was elsewhere.

When it was bedtime, Tobi lay awake staring at the ceiling, replaying the last hug from his mom. Why didn’t she tell me where she was going? What’s so dangerous that I can’t know?

From across the room, Sade whispered, “Tobi, you’re safe here. We’ll figure everything out. Just try to sleep.”

He nodded in the dark, though sleep was the last thing on his mind.

The night was quiet, too quiet. Even the usual sound of crickets outside seemed faint. Tobi lay on his back, his eyes fixed on the shadowy outline of the wardrobe.

He had almost drifted off when he heard it—a faint whisper. At first, he thought it was Sade talking in her sleep, but the voice was too… distant.

“…Ayeni…”

Tobi froze. His heart pounded. He glanced at Sade’s bed—she was turned away, breathing steadily.

The whisper came again, this time a little clearer.

“…time is running out…”

Tobi sat up slowly, his eyes darting around the room. The sound seemed to be coming from the window. Against his better judgment, he slipped out of bed and walked toward it.

When he reached the window and peeked outside, the street was empty. Only the faint glow of the moon lit the quiet road. But just as he was about to turn away, he saw it—two glowing eyes staring at him from across the street, fixed and unblinking.

A cold shiver ran down his spine.

“Tobi?” Sade’s sleepy voice startled him.

He turned back to the window—but the eyes were gone.

“I… I thought I saw something,” he muttered, climbing back into bed.

Sade frowned but didn’t press further. “Go back to sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll talk.”

But Tobi knew he wouldn’t sleep again that night.

To be continued....
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Where did Mama Tobi go to? Who do you think is behind all this?
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