ABBY:
It’s interesting how, standing there, in front of Aunty, her arms around me while I felt completely betrayed, would spark a chain of events that would send my life spiralling.
Let’s pause for a minute.
After that encounter, I spent years of my life angry, wallowing in self-pity, and doing more harm to myself than good.
How? you ask.
Well, let me break it down.
I made a decision—by myself, on my own—to cut off Chief and his wife completely.
I snuck back into their house, packed my things, and moved into a guest house. I still had the credit card Chief had given me—angry but not stupid, or so I thought.
I ignored every plea, every call from my mum, from Chief, and even from Aunty. But I held onto that card like a lifeline. And to be fair, Chief kept sending me money every month, which I never acknowledged.
By now I was spiralling—festering in anger, running down this crazy path of “they betrayed me, and I’m not ready to listen to an explanation.”
In all that time, I didn’t work.
My plans to do a Master’s degree, as Chief had wanted, derailed.
He had wanted me to come work in one of his companies—God forbid, I said.
“I’ll find my own way.”
And oh, how I found it.
One day, there was a knock at my guest house door.
The manager handed me a rude shock.
“Madam, sorry, your card has been declined. You have an outstanding balance to clear. If not, we won’t be able to offer you accommodation any longer.”
Panic. Real, blinding panic.
“Try it again,” I said, trying to sound confident.
He replied, “Madam, we’ve tried it four times.”
He dropped the card on the table and walked off, saying,
“Please be aware, check-out is 12 noon.”
Oh my dear Lord, I began to sweat—in an air-conditioned room.
Immediately, I called Funmi—one of the friends I’d made during this crazy phase. I composed myself and lied, saying I was bored with the hotel and asked if I could stay at hers for a few days.
“Sis, of course! Let’s party!” she said, excitedly.
Packing up my things, I thought to myself: Okay, Funmi will take care of things now. After all, I’d been the generous one for the past two years.
But oh, how wrong I was.
Hmmm…
CHRIS:
Lying under cattle, occasionally standing for air, I watched Thomas wriggling on the floor beside me.
I stared at the cows chewing lazily and thought:
Why does finding my destiny have to be so hard?
Edward had applied for a job, gotten it, and his life had begun.
Me? I had been threatened by desert guides, swallowed by sandstorms, watched people die in front of me, scorched by the merciless sun, and chased by bloodthirsty pirates—
And now, here I was, making cosy with cattle.
What next?
Well, I didn’t have to wait long.
As night fell, I realised we had been in that truck for nearly 24 hours, barely eating because of the stench. I managed to sip a little water, trying not to gag.
Then suddenly, the truck slowed down and came to a halt.
I stood carefully, stiff and aching. In the distance, I saw tiny specks of light—a camp!
Elated, I shook Thomas gently.
“Bro, camp. Let’s go.”
Waiting until the driver and his companion were gone, I helped Thomas climb out. I held him close as we walked, the lights growing bigger and brighter.
Finally, we arrived.
Bustling with people, music, the smell of food—and, most importantly, a well!
We stumbled towards the water, plunged our heads in, and drank greedily.
As we stood there recovering, a man approached. He spoke in a language we didn’t understand, then waved another man over—this one with curly hair and broken English.
“Hi friends. You hungry?” he asked.
Music to our ears. We nodded eagerly.
I said, “Friend sick.”
The man waved for us to follow. He took us to a tent that looked like a makeshift clinic—camp beds, drip stands, the works.
Thomas lay down. The woman there tested him and said to the translator, “He has fever. You got money?”
Thank God I had a few dollars left, like the company had told us to carry. I handed her $10, and she gave Thomas an injection and hooked up a drip.
The other man returned with bread and a steaming bowl of stew.
I didn’t even ask what it was. I thanked them, sat on a mat next to Thomas, and ate. Then I fed him too.
Before long, we were fast asleep.
When we woke up, Thomas had sweat buckets—his temperature was down and he felt stronger. I was so relieved.
I stretched and went outside, breathing in the cool desert air.
And just as I looked around—my heart stopped.
There, walking across from the well, was one of our original guides.
Hmmm… Please add your comments below. Thank you
