Chapter 1
The sleek black Rolls-Royce glidedinto the underground parking lot of Adebiyi Holdings.
The moment the engine died, thedriver-side door opened and a tall young man stepped out. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit that looked expensive even from a distance. Hislow-cut hair was neatly groomed, and his polished shoes clicked against thetiled floor as he walked toward the elevator.
“Good morning, sir,” his secretary greeted, hurrying to catch up with him.
“Morning, Sandra.”
The elevator doors opened, and theystepped inside.
“Bring every document concerning the Ajegunle Waterfront project to my office,” he said calmly.
Sandra looked up from her tablet.
“The Ajegunle site, sir?”
“Yes.” He said
She hesitated. “Sir, that area is notorious for gangs and street thugs. I think it would be better to send the construction site manager.”
The elevator doors opened onto the executive floor.
As they walked toward his office, he loosened one cuff and gave her a look.
“The last time we sent him, how did that go?”
Sandra signed by.“He came back with incomplete reports.”
“Exactly.”
A few minutes later, she stood in his office arranging documents neatly on his desk.
“If you insist on going to the Ajegunle site personally, sir, I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”
Before he could answer, the office door suddenly opened.
“Absolutely not.” A voice from behinds aid
Both of them turned.
A graceful woman in her late fifties walked into the office without waiting to be announced.
“Mother.”
Mrs. Adebiyi folded her arms.
“Jide Adebiyi, you are not going anywhere near that place.”
Sandra quietly excused herself andleft the room.
“Mother, it’s a business project.”
“It’s a dangerous business project.”
Jide sat down.
“I’ll be fine.”
“No, you won’t. The last thing I need is hearing that my only son was attacked because he wanted to inspect land personally.”
He smiled.
“You worry too much, mom.”
“And you don’t worry enough, son”
“I’ve made my decision.”
Mrs. Adebiyi shook her head.
“You’re just as stubborn as yourfather.”
“Thank you, mom.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
Despite her protests, Jide refused to change his mind.
By afternoon, he was already on his way to Ajegunle.
~Meanwhile
People were running down the street,shouting and jumping over cars as they chased after a woman’s bag.
“Come here! Give me my bag! Thief!Thief!”
“Madam, who you dey call thief?” a voice snapped back.
Temiloluwa stood there among them. She was part of the group—but she didn’t run. She didn’t chase. Instead, she just stood still, shouting at the woman from where she was.
“Temiloluwa Adebayo!” Mummy temiloluwa shouted “So this is the life you have chosen to live?”
“Go and work and earn good money,Temiloluwa!” She continued, looking displeased as she stood there holding a big basket. She had just returned with from the market.
“You’re not doing yourself any good following thugs, stealing things… how old are you?” she raged.
“Mom, please, not this again. Those people you call thugs are my friends.”
“Stay away from them,” she snapped.
“Mom, this is Lagos. It’s almost impossible not to see them around.”
My mom stepped closer, still holding the heavy basket, and held my hand.“All I’m saying is go and find a proper job. There are good organizations that can give you one.”
“Mom, please… what can a Second ClassLower like myself even get as a job?”
“Ọmọ mi,” she said gently, “Second ClassLower is not the end of your future. E jọ̀wọ́ (please), don’t limit yourself.”
“Oh, please” I suddenly pulled her hand away.
“Mama, mama, I don hear! Abeg, you sef no dey tire for the same talk every day?”
mother’s face changed immediately.
“Don’t talk to me like that,” she said firmly.
I growled and left her.
The girls were gathered around a roadside, gist flowing freely as they laughed and teased one another.
“Why is your face like that?”
Temiloluwa rolled her eyes dramatically.
“She practically gave me another full lecture this morning.”
The girls burst into laughter.
“Again? Wetin you do this time?”
“Nothing o. She just start that same talk about finding one properjob.”
“And wetin you tell am?”
Temiloluwa shrugged.
“I tell am the same thing I always tell am. Jobs no dey fall from heaven. E be like say she think say opportunity dey hang for tree make I just pluck am.”
“No lie, sha,” one of the girls said. “But your mama dey try. She just want make you better your life.”
“I know,” Temiloluwa admitted, kicking a stone on the roadside.“But sometimes e be like say she no understand how things be now. Everywhere hard. Person fit waka tire, submit CV tire, nothing go still show.”
“Omo, na true you talk,” another girl replied. “The economy don show everybody pepper.”
The Lagos sun was blazing as Temiloluwa and her friends made their way down a busy street. Vendors lined the roadside, danfo buses blared their horns, and the city moved with its usual restless energy.
Temiloluwa was already irritated. The day had tested her patience from the moment she woke up, and she was doing her best not to let it show.
As the girls approached a crossing, a black Rolls-Royce Cullinan suddenly sped toward them. The massive vehicle swerved so close that they stumbled backward to avoid being hit.
“What’s wrong with this driver?” one of her friends shouted.
The Rolls-Royce came to a stop a short distance away.
Temioluwa stared at the vehicle, furious. The tinted window slowly rolled down, revealing a young wealthy man behind the wheel. Instead of apologizing, he looked annoyed that he had been forced to stop.
That expression pushed her over the edge.
“You almost hit us o!” she yelled.
The driver gave a careless shrug, his shoulders lifting lazily as if the accident was nothing worth worrying about
Temiloluwa’s grip tightened around the bat she had been carrying. Before her friends could stop her, she stormed toward the car andswung it.
