The Last Supper

The evening air was thick with the scent of steaming moi-moi as Adaeze unwrapped another batch, the soft leaves released their rich aroma. Business had been steady, but she knew her most loyal customer would soon arrive.

Right on time, he came.

He was a stout man in his early sixties with dark skin. His grey hair was cut close to the scalp. He had a slightly flattened nose and full, expressive lips. He had slightly gap-toothed teeth that gave him a warm and endearing smile. When he spoke, his deep voice carried a thick Igbo accent.

“Oga Sam! Ah, my chairman, you’re never late,” Adaeze said with a bright smile. “You never change.”

Mr. Sam chuckled, his deep voice full of warmth. “Adaeze, how are you doing? Idikwa mma?”

“Adimma. I’m very fine, sir. You want three hot moi-moi abi?,” she asked teasingly as she scooped out the hot wraps of moi-moi for him.

“This girl, you have seen me finish. Anyway, who would abandon something this good? Your moi-moi is the best.”

She laughed as she handed him the neatly tied nylon bag. “This has become a ritual for you, sir. Every night, the same thing.”

“If it’s good, why stop?” He smiled knowingly, taking the moi-moi from her hands and handing her some crisp Naira notes.

Adaeze shook her head playfully. “Should I get your change?”

Mr. Sam waved her off. “Keep it. We will see tomorrow.” He turned and disappeared into the dimly lit street.

Just as he left, Ozioma arrived, her face lined with exhaustion. They had met barely a month ago but bonded so well like they’ve known each other for ages.

“Ozzy! What happened? You look really tired.”

Ozioma sighed. “Ada, it’s been a long day. The burial preparations for my dad are wearing me out. It’s not easy being a first child ooo”

Adaeze frowned. “I can imagine. I’m so sorry.”

Ozioma forced a small smile. “We’ll get through it.”

Adaeze quickly unwrapped a small snack for her. “Here, take this. At least eat something.”

Ozioma hesitated at first, but Adaeze insisted, so she took it. “Thank you.”


—

The morning of the burial was heavy with sorrow. Ozioma, Mazi Ekene, and several kinsmen walked into the mortuary with grim expressions. Adaeze followed closely behind Ozioma, offering quiet support.

Gbade, the mortuary attendant, stood at the entrance, looking uneasy.

“You are Mr. Ndubusi’s family, right?”

Ozioma nodded. “Yes, S. H. Ndubusi. We’ve come to claim his body.”

Gbade hesitated, then exhaled. “There’s something… strange I need to tell you.”

Mazi Ekene stiffened. “What is it?”

Gbade shifted uncomfortably. “Every time we clean him, we find moi-moi crumbs on his mouth. And sometimes, moi-moi wraps near the fridge where his body is kept.”

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Ozioma’s lips trembled. “M-my father?”

Gbade nodded. “I thought it was a mistake at first, but it kept happening. Even this morning, when we prepared him… fresh moi moi crumbs were on his lips.”

Mazi Ekene let out a nervous chuckle. “That’s… impossible.”

His face pale, “It… it must be rats or some mistake.” His hands were shaking.

Gbade shook his head. “Rats can’t open the fridge. And this moi moi is always fresh, like someone just ate it.”

Ozioma clutched Adaeze’s arm, her grip ice cold. “My father loved moi moi while he was alive” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Then the doors of the cold chambers creaked open.

Adaeze’s breath hitched as they wheeled the body forward.

And then, she saw him.

Her most loyal customer.

The same man who had come to buy moi moi the night before.

The same man who had smiled and said, “We will see tomorrow.”

A small scream tore from Adaeze’s throat.

There on his lips were indeed fresh moi-moi crumbs. Her moi-moi.

It dawned on her, a ghost had been her loyal customer!!!!

Based On A True Life Story.

JaneFrances Udeh,
StoryCraft Expert, Author Coaching by BAC