OneMotolani

There is a saying in my local dialect that “ashes from a long-dead fire can still burn you.” That precisely is the case of Kyle McAvoy. The future he had carefully projected and painted on the canvas of his mind is about to go off in confusion. The story started with the job any 25-year-old law student will probably never be caught doing, coaching schoolboys. This ushers readers into the reason he pursued law at all; opening us up to the beginning of his imminent chaos. Kyle McCoy is, without doubt, the lead role in this novel. While it is not all about him, he is the central character. Everything finds a way back to him. A case that passed for young adult exuberance has come to haunt him and “his pals” down like a knife hunts down the good in the woods. Of course, something smells fishy, and amid everything, he must finish his law school, ace the bar exam, work at one of those places he grew up detesting so much. As if the trouble of digging up dead issues was not enough, he has

'Na Ajepe, send me message.' 'Abeg, no rough handle me, comot your body.' Musings, as well as what could pass for laughter, went around the lot. I am a joke to them, God give me strength. So I acted like the man I am, gave Basira a hot slap that left my palm tingling. Now everyone had their eyes on me again; they knew I meant business. 'Oya, you sef talk wetin you know, e be like say this pikin don dey vex' someone in the front spoke up. No, he was wrong; the anger was not at its early stage; it felt as though it were at the peak. My insides were in chaos, and I felt like I could do anything at this moment. By now, tears had pooled underneath Basira's badly made-up eyes. There was a full imprint of my fingers on her right cheek, and I felt no remorse. "Ajepe bin say make I dey watch you, e say your mama send you message". "I ask am if your mama Sabi de arrangement, e say yes, say dey get something wey dey bin wan discuss and e better mak