04/07/2025
THE SILENCE BETWEEN US
EPISODE 18
The heat hit her first.
Not just the Lagos sun, but the heat of a thousand unspoken questions waiting in the air, thick, tense, and familiar in a way that made her chest tighten.
Muna stepped off the plane with David beside her, his hand lightly brushing hers in that silent way he’d always used to say: I’m here.
Her father stood at the arrival gate, dressed in soft brown kaftan, his expression caught between relief and regret.
“Muna,” he said softly.
She didn’t speak. She just walked into his arms.
For the first time in years, he held her not like a daughter he needed to protect, but like a woman he finally saw.
They didn’t drive home.
Instead, they went straight to a legal office tucked in Victoria Island, high-rise, frosted glass, and tension in every hallway.
Her father’s lawyer, Barrister Olamide, was already waiting. A petite woman with glasses and a voice like steel wrapped in velvet.
She slid a thick file toward Muna.
“Prince’s father has powerful friends in the tribunal. But we have more than just truth, we have proof. Your testimony could crack open what others have been trying to hide for over a decade.”
Muna didn’t blink.
“I’m ready.”
Olamide leaned forward. “Then be ready for this too: they will come for your name, your womanhood, your past, and especially… your love life.”
David tensed beside her.
“They’ll use me.”
“They’ll try,” Olamide replied. “So stay centered. Do not rise when they bait you. Hold the silence where it matters, and speak only when it counts.”
That night, the family compound was quiet.
Muna sat on the balcony overlooking the old guava tree she used to climb as a girl. The wind whispered through the leaves, carrying memories.
David stepped outside, holding two mugs.
She accepted hers and smiled. “Tea again?”
“It’s your comfort language.”
He sat beside her, their knees touching lightly.
“I keep thinking,” she said, “that maybe if I hadn’t married Prince, none of this would’ve happened.”
David shook his head. “Then you wouldn’t be the woman who stood before an entire institution and told the truth.”
She looked at him, her eyes soft. “Do you still think of us in that almond tree?”
“Every day,” he whispered.
There was a silence between them.
But this one , like all the ones before was sacred.
The tribunal was held in an administrative complex in Ikeja.
Media had been locked out, but whispers were everywhere.
Security was tight.
Inside, three judges presided, with a row of lawyers lined like chess pieces. On the other side, Muna, her father, and Barrister Olamide.
And Prince.
He sat at the defense table, shoulders slightly hunched, lips drawn in a tight line.
He didn’t look at her.
He hadn’t since she entered the room.
The questioning was sharp, sometimes cruel.
“Miss Okoye, did you knowingly enter a marriage with the intent to access confidential information regarding your father’s land holdings?”
“No,” Muna replied. “I married a man I thought I loved. The betrayal came later.”
“And you didn’t speak out until after you were romantically involved with Mr. David Obinna?”
“I spoke out when I found the strength,” she said. “And David had nothing to do with the land. That’s the difference. He loved me without a motive.”
A murmur rose in the room. The judge banged the gavel.
Then came Prince’s turn.
He rose slowly, called to speak.
But instead of defending himself he shocked the room.
“I won’t lie anymore,” he said. “Yes, I was part of it. My father pressured me. I wanted the land deal to go through. And yes… I married Muna under false pretenses.”
Gasps. The judge motioned for silence.
“I didn’t expect her to fight back,” Prince continued. “And I didn’t expect… to fall in love with someone who would destroy everything I was told to protect.”
He turned his eyes to her then for the first time in years.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
But Muna didn’t flinch. Not even a blink.
Because there were apologies that came too late.
And hearts that didn’t recognize love until they’d weaponized it.
Outside the courtroom, reporters waited like vultures.
David shielded her with his arm as flashes fired, questions flew, and chaos tried to catch them both.
“Miss Okoye, do you forgive your ex-husband?”
“Did you manipulate your university for influence?”
“Are you and David Obinna getting married?”
She didn’t answer.
She just kept walking.
Because some things didn’t need a headline.
They needed healing.
That night, the compound was quiet again.
Her father called her to the garden and handed her a folded envelope.
Inside was the original land deed, signed, untouched, untransferred.
“I never told anyone,” he said. “But I kept it in case I needed to remind the world: we are not for sale.”
Muna held the paper close, tears pooling behind her lashes.
“I’m sorry you had to carry this alone, Papa.”
He placed a hand over hers.
“I’m not alone anymore.”
And just like that, something shifted.
The silence between them all wasn’t broken.
It had been transformed.
To be Continued…✍️
