🦋 IMANI'S POV
I didn't dwell on it.
Not the way someone else might have.
It was just a moment,brief, passing, easy to ignore if I wanted to.
And I did want to.
Life didn't pause to ask how I felt about anything. It moved. Constantly. Loudly. Without permission.
By the next morning, Warri had already woken up before I did.
Voices spilled into the compound,someone arguing over water, a woman calling her child back inside, the distant hum of a generator that sounded like it had been running since yesterday.
I lay on my bed for a few extra seconds, staring at the ceiling.
Just breathing.
Just existing.
Imani!" my mum called. "You go late oo,you no go wake?"
"I don wake mummy," I replied, though I hadn't moved yet.
From the living room, Favour's voice followed, clearer, more awake than mine.
"She says that every day, but she's always rushing out five minutes later."
I finally sat up. "Don't you have something better to do?"
"Yes," he said, stepping into my doorway, holding a book. "I'm trying to study, but some people are still in bed."
I raised an eyebrow. "Since when did you become serious?"
He shrugged off "I'm planning ahead, na computer science I wan read for University"
That caught my attention.
" You're serious about it?"
" Yes oo I no go serious with my life before? Do you think I like the way we are living? You and big bro have been working hard to get us to this point, mum too is also trying, from one room to one bedroom flat, omo na by God's grace oo, me too I need to study hard I don't want to be stuck"
Yeah my elder brother came looking for us when he heard about us, he came after I wrote my exams, two years ago, he comes and and go he doesn't permanently live with us due to the nature of his work, but he assists us the little way he can, he has been such a huge help to us and I'm grateful to him.
I stood up slowly and moved toward the mirror.
For a moment, I just looked at myself.
I wasn't the kind of girl people turned to look at twice, not because I wasn't beautiful,but because my beauty was quiet.
Unannounced.
Medium heightabout 5'6.
I stood in front of the mirror a little longer than I needed, not because I was admiring myself. Just checking, I wasn't slim, and I I made peace with that, at least that's what I told myself. My body held weight in places my hips, my thighs the soft curves of my stomach that refused to completely flattens no matter how I stand.
An African body, full in a way that felt natural, but some days it didn't feel enough or it felt like it's too much, My hair, most days, stayed in simple styles,braids, or a low bun when I didn't have the energy, I went to the bathroom to shower did my business.
I picked out a fitted blouse and a simple skirt,nothing too tight, nothing too loose. Comfortable enough to survive the heat, neat enough to look like I belonged in an office.
I tied my hair back, applied a little lip gloss, and that was it.
I didn't need more than that.
By the time I stepped into the office, the air already felt heavy with activity.
Phones ringing.
Voices overlapping.
Someone complaining at the front desk.
"Good morning," Olivia said, glancing up at me with a small smile.
"Morning."
"You early today oo."
"Don't get used to it."
She laughed. "I won't."
Working at Kresta Communications wasn't something you could fake your way through.
It required patience.
Real patience.
We handled customer issues for a telecom service,SIM registrations, network complaints, account problems, everything people didn't understand but expected you to fix immediately.
"Imani, take this one," Mr. Okoro said, gesturing toward a customer already looking irritated.
I nodded and stepped forward.
"Yes, ma," I said calmly.
"My line hasn't been working since yesterday," the woman snapped. "I've called everywhere!"
"I understand," I replied, keeping my voice steady. "Let me check it for you."
That was the job.
Not just solving problems,but absorbing frustration that wasn't really yours.
You had to listen carefully.
Ask the right questions.
Check the system.
Explain things in a way that didn't make people feel stupid.
And sometimes?
Apologize for things you had no control over.
By midday, I had already handled more than ten people.
Each one different.
Each one convinced their problem was the worst.
"You're getting better," Olivia said, leaning slightly toward me.
"I'm surviving."
"That's the first step."
We had learned each other's rhythm at this point.
No need for too many words.
If one of us was overwhelmed, the other stepped in without making it obvious.
That was what made it easy.
Working with her didn't feel like pressure.
It felt like balance.
I didn't notice when Daniel stopped being just another coworker.
It wasn't sudden.
Nothing about him was.
He moved through the office differently,not slow, not fast, just… steady.
"Imani," he said one afternoon, standing beside my desk.
I looked up. "Yes?"
"You've been at it since morning. You should take a break."
"I'm fine."
"You say that too often."
I didn't respond.
But I noticed.
Another day
"You skipped lunch again."
I sighed. "Why are you keeping track?"
He leaned slightly against the desk. "I pay attention."
That was the thing about him.
He didn't try to impress.
Didn't talk too much.
Didn't force conversations.
But he noticed things.
And that made it harder to ignore him.
Home and the Weight of Reality
That evening, when I got home, the air felt different.
Quieter.
Favour was seated at the table, laptop open, books scattered around him, the laptom that brother Abraham got him as a birthday gift.
"Coding?" I asked, dropping my bag.
He looked up, adjusting slightly. "Trying to."
"You've started already?"
"I can't wait till school resumes," he said. "I need to understand something before I get there."
There was a focus in his eyes I hadn't seen before.
Not play.
Not jokes.
Something more intentional.
"You'll do well," I said.
He gave a small nod. "I have to." hmmm that word again, " Favour you know that no one is pressuring you right? Study,play do things your age do your age mates don't live a boring life like us"
"Big sis I know, I go try, go and rest"
My mum was in the kitchen.
Of course.
I joined her without speaking.
Picked up a knife.
Started slicing vegetables.
"You like this place too much," she said.
"I like peace."
She didn't argue with that.
The kitchen didn't ask questions.
Didn't expect explanations.
It just existed.
And for me, that was enough.
Back at work, things stayed the same.
But also… not the same.
Daniel's presence became normal.
Too normal.
"Imani."
"Hmm?"
"You always think before you answer."
I glanced at him. "That's a bad thing?"
"No," he said. "It just means you don't rush people in."
I didn't know what to say to that.
Later that day, during a quieter moment, he sat across from me.
"You said you like cooking."
"I do."
"What kind of food?"
I thought about it for a second.
"Anything I can build from scratch," I said. "Something that takes time."
He nodded slowly. "That sounds like you."
That statement lingered.
Because I wasn't sure anyone had ever tried to understand me like that.
That evening, as we prepared to close, the office finally settling into silence.
"Imani."
I turned.
He didn't speak immediately.
Like he was choosing his words carefully.
"Would you like to go out with me this weekend?"
I looked at him.
Not deeply.
Not emotionally.
Just long enough to remind myself,I didn't really know him.
And yet…
There was no pressure in his voice.
No urgency.
Just a question.
And for reasons I couldn't fully explain…
I didn't say no.
Maybe it was curiosity.
Maybe it was boredom.
Maybe it was something I wasn't ready to name.
But whatever it was.
That was the moment everything quietly began to change.
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