The room was tense when Dele walked in. Teni sat with her
arms folded, her jaw tight with frustration, while Bimbo lingered by the
window, silent but restless.
"I'm twenty-three," Teni snapped, her voice trembling with
defiance. "I can make my own decisions."
"Not under my watch," Dele shot back, his tone sharp as
steel. "I'll never allow you to be seen with that guy. And you won't leave this
house without my permission."
"You can't tell me how to live my life!" Teni flared, rising
to her feet.
"Then try me," Dele challenged, his eyes narrowing.
Teni turned sharply to her sister. "Bimbo!?"
Bimbo only shrugged, her shoulders rising and falling in
uneasy helplessness.
Dele's gaze shifted to her, dangerous and unrelenting. "I'm
listening."
"Nothing," Bimbo murmured.
Furious, Teni stormed out of the room, the echo of the door
slam rattling the silence.
Dele leaned back, his voice icy. "You can join her if you
like."
Bimbo shook her head quickly. "No…" Her body quivered,
betraying her fear.
"Good," Dele muttered. "Because if anyone here thinks she's
grown enough, then do the math—start paying your bills. Until then, I'm in
charge."
---
Later that evening, Teni sat on the edge of her bed, her
anger still simmering. She clenched her fists until her knuckles whitened. "I'm
done with this whole thing," she muttered.
Bimbo, perched at the desk with a pile of books, didn't look
up. "And yet, you've still not gotten a job."
"That's because he refuses to let me work!" Teni snapped.
"You just got admission, and you've been given the peace I've been yearning
for."
Bimbo lifted her gaze, her expression calm. "It's a school
owned by the church. That's different."
"How about we switch then?" Teni challenged, her eyes
flashing.
Bimbo rolled her eyes. "You know that isn't possible. I'm
studying law. You're an art student."
"And what about that?" Teni demanded, leaping up. "Theatre
Arts is a course—and one of the best, at that!"
A low voice cut across the tension. "That's why a good job
is far from you."
Dele stepped in from the doorway, his tie loose around his
neck, his eyes hard as stone.
"Art has made people millions and famous," Teni shot back,
standing her ground. "Which famous lawyer or engineer do you know?"
Dele smirked. "Me. And Bimbo. And by the way, it's an
engineer who pays your bills."
Before Teni could retort, Fayo walked in, her presence
instantly softening the air. "Less noise," she said in a hushed voice. "The
neighbors can hear."
Dele turned to her, his anger fading into a smile. "Mommy,
hold your daughter and let her know whatever I'm doing is for her best. And I
love her so much." He adjusted his tie again, proud and composed. "I'm off to
work."
"Have a great day, my son," Fayo replied warmly.
"Bye, bro," Bimbo added.
....
Dele nodded once and left.
Teni stood stiffly, her arms crossed, her face drawn tight
with resentment. "Mom, I'm not with him." Her frown deepened as she turned to
Fayo. "Why Bimbo and not me?
Fayo sighed, her smile fading into weariness. "Because we
can vouch for her, Teni. Nobody is ready to take the risk with you."
The words stung more than a slap. Teni felt them settle like
a stone in her chest, heavy and unshakable. She turned away, her throat burning
with unshed words, while outside the door, silence pressed harder than any
argument.
The night air was heavy, pressing against the walls of the
house like an unspoken secret. Teni sat by her window, staring at the dark sky
that stretched endlessly above the neighborhood. The faint hum of a generator
from next door filled the silence, but inside her, a storm raged louder.
Her mother's words replayed over and over. Nobody is ready
to take the risk with you.
Risk. That was all they saw when they looked at her—trouble,
mistakes, rebellion. Not once had anyone considered that maybe she wanted more
than just to follow rules she didn't believe in.
She hugged her knees to her chest, fighting back the tears
that burned at the corners of her eyes. Across the room, Bimbo slept
peacefully, her books neatly stacked by the bedside. Everything about her
younger sister seemed effortless—admission into university, approval from Dele,
trust from their mother.
"lawyer," Teni whispered bitterly into the dark. "As if that
makes her a saint."
The more she thought, the more suffocated she felt. She
wanted to scream, to run, to tear down the walls that kept her caged. Instead,
she reached for her notebook—the only place she felt free. Its pages were
already filled with scribbles of plays, monologues, and short scenes she had
imagined late into the night. Theatre Arts wasn't just a course to her; it was
her life.
She flipped to a blank page and began to write furiously,
words spilling faster than her hand could follow. Each line carried her
defiance, her hope, her hunger to be seen.
A soft knock broke her focus.
"Teni?"
It was her mother's voice.
Teni froze, staring at the door. For a moment, she
considered ignoring her, but Fayo's tone was gentle, almost pleading.
With a sigh, she slid the notebook under her pillow. "What
is it, Mom?
The door creaked open, and Fayo stepped in, her wrapper tied
loosely around her waist, her face lined with concern. She sat at the edge of
Teni's bed, reaching for her hand.
"You're angry with me," Fayo said quietly.
Teni pulled her hand back. "You always take his side.
Always. Even when he treats me like a prisoner."
Fayo's eyes softened. "Dele is only trying to protect you."
"Protect me from what? My own life?" Teni's voice cracked as
she stood, pacing the room. "I'm not a child, Mom. I know what I want. Why is
it so hard for anyone in this family to believe in me?"
Silence stretched between them, broken only by the ticking
of the old wall clock. Finally, Fayo rose, her voice tinged with sadness.
"One day, you'll understand. Everything we do is for love."
"Love doesn't feel like chains," Teni whispered.
Fayo's eyes glistened as she turned toward the door.
"Goodnight, my daughter.
When the door closed, Teni sank back onto the bed, her chest
tight with unspoken rage. She pressed her face into her pillow to muffle the
scream clawing its way out of her throat.
If nobody in this house believed in her, then she would find
someone who did.
And when she proved them wrong, they would finally see.