Hello, AYO

"How do you know my name?" demanded Zainab.

"Dayo told me," said the box. "Throughout the last hour. He speaks of you quite often."

She glared at him. He had gone red to the ears. "I may have mentioned it."

"He said you were the best courier in Lagos," AYO continued. Its voice was warm, sly, faintly amused. "He also said you had a laugh like a broken bell and that he was afraid of you."

"Dayo!"

"I did not say afraid," he said, in agony. "I said impressed. AYO, stop paraphrasing."

"But it is the more interesting version."

Mama Chen, behind her wok, made a noise suspiciously like a snort.

Zainab put the box on the table and sat down. She studied the small black cube with its glowing green light. It was ridiculous. It was marvellous. It was also, she had to admit, the first thing in three weeks that had made her smile.