Chapter 4:
The city didn't slow down for anyone.
Kola learned that in his first few hours.
He had walked longer than planned, stopping often just to look around—tall buildings crowding the sky, buses honking without patience, people brushing past him as though he didn't exist. Everyone looked busy. Everyone looked like they already knew where they were going.
He didn't.
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
Amara.
He stared at the screen for a few seconds before answering.
"Have you arrived?" her voice came through, soft but cautious.
"Yes," he replied. "I'm here."
There was a pause. "How is it?"
Kola exhaled slowly. "Big."
She laughed lightly. "You'll get used to it."
Maybe. Or maybe the city swallowed people whole and moved on without noticing. He didn't say that. Instead, he told her he would call later. When the call ended, the silence felt louder than the traffic around him.
By evening, hunger reminded him he couldn't survive on hope alone.
He stopped at a small roadside food stand, counting the money his mother had given him. It wasn't much. The woman behind the stand barely looked at him as she served the food. Kola ate standing, watching strangers argue, laugh, and hurry past.
This was the city: crowded, loud… and lonely.
As night approached, reality set in more sharply. He had no place to sleep. A cheap lodge swallowed most of his remaining cash. The room was small, the mattress thin, the ceiling stained—but it was shelter.
Kola lay on his back, staring upward, listening to the unfamiliar noises outside his window.
For the first time since boarding the bus, doubt crept in quietly.
What if this was a mistake?
What if bravery wasn't enough?
He remembered his mother's face. Amara's voice. The way his town looked when he left. Going back wasn't an option—not now, not after coming this far.
Kola rolled to his side and clenched his fist.
Tomorrow, he would look for work.
Tomorrow, the city would have to notice him.
Because failure was no longer something he could afford.