04/03/2026
CHIAMAKA (By Mr. Ezy)
📖 EPISODE 10📖
The journey felt longer than it really was.
Chiamaka sat quietly in the car, her hands resting on her lap, her eyes fixed outside the window.
Everything was changing. The trees became fewer, the roads became wider, the houses became bigger even the noise grew louder.
Car horns, people shouting, engines running.
It was nothing like Iseke village.
Chiamaka swallowed slowly.
“This place is… different,” she said softly.
Kenechukwu smiled before responding to her.
“This is Lagos Nigeria, “It never sleeps.”
She nodded slowly, but inside, her heart was racing. She felt small…….First Sight of the City
As they drove deeper into the city, Chiamaka’s eyes widened.
Tall buildings touched the sky. People walked fast, like they were chasing something.
Street lights, signboards, shops everywhere.
“This is where you live?” she asked.
“Yes,” Kenechukwu replied.
“And where I hope you will feel at home.”
She looked at him. “I will try.”
Moments later, the car finally stopped in front of a large very gate. Bigger than anything she had ever seen.
The gate opened slowly. Chiamaka held her breath.
Inside was a beautiful mansion. Flowers lined the walkway, Cars were parked neatly, everything looked perfect……..
She slowly looked down at her hands. For a moment, she felt like she did not belong there.
Kenechukwu noticed. “Hey,” he said gently.
“Don’t think too much. Just be yourself.”
She nodded. But it was not that easy.
As they stepped out of the car, the front door opened. A woman stepped out first.
Elegant, Calm and Well dressed.
Her presence alone commanded attention.
Behind her stood a tall man with a serious face.
And two younger people, a boy and a girl, watching curiously.
“This is my mother,” Kenechukwu said softly.
Chiamaka quickly bowed slightly.
“Good evening, ma.”
The woman looked at her from head to toe.
Not rudely, but carefully.
“You are welcome,” she said.
Her voice was calm but not warm.
“This is my father,” Kenechukwu added.
“Good evening, sir,” Chiamaka said.
He nodded once. “Welcome.”
Short and Straight.
The younger girl whispered to her brother.
“She’s the one?” The boy nodded slightly.
Chiamaka heard…….Her heart tightened.
They entered the house. Everything inside was shining. Clean floors, bright lights, Soft chairs.
Chiamaka walked carefully, almost afraid to touch anything.
“Sit,” Kenechukwu’s mother said.
Chiamaka sat at the edge of the chair. Her back straight, her hands together, her eyes careful.
“So…“You are Chiamaka.” The woman asked.
“Yes, ma.” Chiamaka replied.
“I have heard about you.”
Chiamaka looked up slightly.
Her heart skipped…….Heard what? Good things? Bad things? She asked herself but could not tell.
“You came from Isieke village,” Kenechukwu’s woman continued.
“Yes, ma.”
“And my son says you will be schooling at the University of Lagos.”
Chiamaka nodded slowly. “Yes, ma.”
The woman leaned back slightly.
“That is not a small thing.”
“I know, ma,” Chiamaka said quietly.
The room became silent again.
Suddenly, the younger girl spoke.
“Can you even speak good English?”
Kenechukwu frowned. “Pamela!”
But Chiamaka raised her hand slightly.
“It’s okay,” she said……..She turned to the girl.
“I am still learning, but I will improve.”
The little girl blinked. She didn’t expect that answer.
The boy leaned forward slightly, interested now.
Kenechukwu’s father watched quietly, studying her.
Immediately something small happened, but it changed everything.
A tray of drinks was brought in by a house help.
As she walked, she tripped slightly and the tray tilted, glasses almost fell.
Before anyone could react, Chiamaka stood quickly and helped her steady it.
“Sorry,” Chiamaka said, even though it wasn’t her fault. The house help looked relieved.
“Thank you, madam.” Chiamaka smiled softly.
“It’s okay.”
That moment did not go unnoticed.
Kenechukwu’s mother watched very carefully.
Something in her expression softened.
Later that evening, Kenechukwu’s parents sat alone in their bedroom.
“What do you think?” his father asked.
The woman was quiet for a moment.
“She is not what I expected,” she admitted.
“In what way?” He asked.
“She is simple… but not empty.”
His father nodded. “She has something.”
“Yes,” she said slowly, “Something real.”
That night, Chiamaka sat on the bed in her new room. It’s a big room. Soft bed, clean sheets.
Everything beautiful, but her heart felt heavy.
She missed home..She missed her mother’s voice.
She missed her father’s quiet presence.
She lay down slowly, tears rolled down her cheeks.
“This place is good…” she whispered.
“But it is not home.”
There was a soft knock on the door.
“Kenechukwu?” she asked.
“Yes. Can I come in?”
“Yes.” She replied.
He entered quietly.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She nodded, but tears betrayed her.
“I miss them,” she said softly.
“I know,” Kenechukwu replied
“It feels like I left a part of myself behind.”
Kenechukwu sat beside her.
“You didn’t leave them,” he said.
“You carried them with you.”
She looked at him.
“Everything you are… came from them.”
Her tears slowed. “And this new life?” she asked.
He smiled gently. “This is where you grow.”
That night, under a different sky, In a city that never slept………
Chiamaka the village girl, closed her eyes with tears on her cheeks. Not from pain, not from hatred but from change.
Because sometimes…….The hardest part of a new beginning Is not where you are going. It is learning how to belong there.
TO BE CONTINUED………..✏️✏️📖📖
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