‘And the most annoying thing,’ my mother added, ‘is that he’s going to go scot-free.’

‘Did anyone die?’ Charity asked.

‘Were you not listening?’ Eugene replied.

‘One woman died,’ Godfrey answered. ‘The other one is in hospital.’

The governor’s press secretary was careful to add that the injured woman’s medical bill was being catered for at the governor’s expense.

‘It’s taxpayer’s money!’ My father exploded from his chair.

‘But why can’t they investigate what the problem is?’ my mother asked. ‘Why can’t they ask why this same man has had four accidents in this period?’

‘Illiterates… all of them… that’s the problem.’

Had I been less preoccupied with other matters, I would have supplied the answer to that question for free. After the third accident, I had read an interview in which this same governor’s press secretary had blamed the governor’s enemies, insinuating that they had used a powerful juju to engineer these mishaps in order to embarrass the governor.

Before the news ended, my father had had enough. He stood up and hissed.

‘I’m going in,’ he said.

My mother followed.

Shortly after, Godfrey dived towards the television and tuned to a channel that was just starting to show a Nollywood movie. I was not a fan of these locally produced Nigerian movies, so I also stood and went into the children’s room.

Sleep refused to happen. Three days after my visit to Ola, my mind was still bustling with worry. What was it that her mother was unhappy with me about? Perhaps she and Ola were having a misunderstanding.