The _Iwọ̀n_'s stirrings faded into an eerie calm, the lagoon licking Makoko's piers like a curious cat, as if holding its breath.
Kemi stood frozen, the calabash still pulsing in her hand, its cracked halves warm like a heartbeat.
The suited strangers from the black boat stepped onto the wet wood, their polished shoes out of place among the fishing nets and morning's leftover _akara_.
"Ms. Adebayo," one said, eyeing Naomi with a hint of deference, his tone sugar-coated.
"Your... escalation isn't helpful.
We can still negotiate."
Naomi's smile was ice, a contrast to the fiery drums building in the distance.
"The people are speaking, gentlemen. EkoBot's ledger is public.
The deals end here."
Juwon, drumsticks tight in his fists, took a step forward, his dreadlocks swaying like the lagoon's waves.
"You didn't build Lagos. _We_ did.
With sweat, with songs, with survival."
The lead man, smooth-shaven, adjusted his cufflinks, glancing at the crowd now swelling like a rising tide, the drones hovering above like mechanical hawks.
"We invested in progress.
You're disrupting it."
Kemi raised the calabash, its hum matching the rising tension.
"This is Makoko.
We don't disrupt, we _survive_.
We dance with the water, not fight it."
A burst of _giọ̀n gọ̀n_ cut through the air-Juwon's crew, hidden among the boats, striking up a defiant rhythm that made the piers vibrate.
The crowd swelled, chanting _"Lagos! Lagos!"_, vendors scrambling to sell _akara_, roasted corn, and water in plastic bags as if the festival had begun.
The air thickened with resistance, with the scent of possibility.
Naomi leaned in, voice low, urgent.
"Kemi, the _Iwọ̀n_ won't wait.
Make a choice: expose the funders fully, or-" Kemi cut her off, raising the calabash high.
The gourd glowed brighter, like catching moonlight, and with a sharp crack, it split open-releasing a torrent of white feathers, like _Èdìrò_ festival spirits, swirling into the lagoon in a mad dance.
The water exploded. _Iwọ̀n_'s dark shape broke surface, massive, ancient, tendrils whipping like living roots-then it _subsided_, as if appeased, sinking into the depths with a low rumble.
The crowd gasped.
The funders' faces turned ash.
"It's a covenant," an old Makoko fisherman whispered, making the sign of the cross.
"The lagoon claims its due."
Naomi's eyes flashed understanding, a flicker of something unspoken.
"They'll back off.
For now.
But Kemi, this isn't over.
The city's waking up."
The drones retreated, buzzing away like scolded insects.
The funders turned, retracing steps to their boat, their polished facade cracking.
As they vanished into speed, Juwon's drums ramped up-raw, loud, _Makoko's heartbeat_.
The crowd erupted, dancing on piers, laughing, chanting, some twirling in the shallow waters like it was _Epele_ festival.
Kemi felt Tariq's hand on her shoulder.
"Guess we just made a statement."
Ade sprinted over, phone glowing. "The ledger's viral! People are mobilizing-Yaba's hackers are patching mesh networks, Surulere's artists are painting murals, _#LagosUnbound_ is trending."
The calabash's broken halves pulsed once more, then went still.
Kemi smiled, a spark in her mind.
"We're just getting started.
Tonight, we feast. _Jollof rice_, by the water. Invite the whole of Lagos."
The crew cheered.
As the sun dipped into the Atlantic, Makoko lit up-lanterns strung across piers, fires crackling, drums syncing with the lagoon's pulse.
Vendors shouted deals on _pepper soup_, grilled fish, _puff-puff_.
Children chased sparks from a makeshift firework, laughing like it was the world's game.
The _Iwọ̀n_ watched, submerged, like it too was curious what Lagos would do next.
Naomi appeared beside Kemi, eyes gleaming with shadows.
"You played a dangerous game. But maybe... maybe it's what the city needs."
Kemi turned, the night buzzing around them. "What's next?" A sly smile touched Naomi's lips.
"The funders won't stay hidden.
But tonight... let Lagos taste freedom."
The drums swelled.
The lagoon shimmered. And in Makoko, the night belonged to the people.