The first rays of morning filtered through the thin curtains of Alex's small room, casting long lines of light across the worn floor tiles. Outside, the early city sounds were already alive—roosters crowing somewhere in the distance, the metallic clatter of a gate closing, the muffled hum of distant traffic. Alex sat up slowly, rubbing sleep from his eyes. For a moment, he just sat there on the edge of his bed, hands clasped, letting the weight of the morning settle in. The memory of the previous night still lingered—Emily's parents, their kindness, the warm glow of that dinner, and the way it made something stir in him. He stood and moved to the small wooden desk near the window, where his textbooks were neatly stacked beside a blue water bottle. His timetable lay pinned to the wall—a reminder of the structure he was still getting used to. But even as he reached for his toothbrush and towel, his mind drifted. He remembered the bus ride that had brought him here—how it all started. Sitting by the window, that nervous energy in his chest, the strange quiet of leaving the village behind. And her—the girl who sat across the aisle, eyes soft and head tilted to the side, a book open in her lap. He had seen her again on campus. More than once. But every time, something inside him froze. He didn't know her name. Didn't know if she even remembered him. But somehow, her presence lingered, like a melody he couldn't forget. "Boy, you don't want to be late for class again," came Uncle John's voice from the hallway, followed by the clink of a kettle lid in the kitchen.
Alex smiled faintly and called back, "I'm up already." He dressed quickly—white shirt, navy trousers, his modest sandals—and stepped out into the hallway where the faint scent of Milo and toasted bread drifted from the kitchen. Uncle John was at the table, scrolling through his phone and sipping from a steaming mug. He looked up and nodded. "Morning."
"Good morning, uncle," Alex said, grabbing his own cup. There was a quiet pause between them before his uncle spoke again. "Yesterday went well, didn't it?" Alex nodded, his fingers curled around the warm mug. "Yes, it did. They were kind. "People like that… they don't come around every day," Uncle John said simply. "But don't forget—you belong in that circle too." Alex looked at him, then away. "I'm trying to believe that." His uncle gave a small, approving grunt. "Good. Because I see it already." After a quick breakfast, Alex packed his books, slung his bag over his shoulder, and stepped out into the soft light of morning. The day was beginning, and the campus gates waited. As he walked to the roadside to catch a cab, his mind was calm but quietly stirred—by the night before, by what lay ahead, and by the lingering image of a girl with a book and eyes full of meaning he hadn't yet dared to explore. He wasn't the same boy from the village anymore.
And yet, that boy still walked beside him—quiet, brilliant, and learning, step by step, how to stand taller in a world that once felt too far away.There were things Alex never spoke about. Not because he didn't want to—but because there was never anyone who truly asked.
His memories of his mother were like smoke—thin, shifting, hard to grasp. He could remember faint details: the soft hum of her voice when she used to sing in the mornings, the scent of lemongrass in her wrapper, and how her hands always felt cool on his forehead. But those memories never stayed long. They slipped away, replaced by silence.
She had stopped coming around when he was very young. By the time he was five, he barely knew what she looked like.
His grandmother, Mama Efe, had taken over everything. She was a firm woman with silver-streaked hair always tied in a scarf, eyes sharp with wisdom and weariness. She loved Alex fiercely, but she never spoke of his mother. Not once. Whenever he asked, she would wave the question away or find something else for him to do. "The past is the past," she'd say, her voice tight, her eyes avoiding his.
It was only later, much later, that Alex would start to understand that silence. That maybe the past hurt too much to talk about. When he was four, the fire came. He could still remember the screams—the chaos of neighbors running, the smoke curling into the sky like a spirit set free. He remembered the heat licking his skin, the fear that clawed at his small chest. It was a miracle, they all said, that he wasn't badly injured. Just a scar on his side—faint now, but a permanent reminder. That night changed everything. His mother left soon after. Gone. Without a word. Without a goodbye. From that point on, it was just him and Mama Efe. She raised him on what little she had. He went to school in sandals worn thin at the soles, carrying his books in a polythene bag. Still, he studied hard. He always topped his class. His teachers said he was brilliant. "Quiet, but sharp," they'd say. And then, there was Uncle John. He wasn't around often, but when he came, he came with food, sometimes clothes, and sometimes, just himself. He would ruffle Alex's hair and sit on the bench outside with Mama Efe, talking in low tones. To Alex, Uncle John was a link to a world beyond the village. A man who had seen the city. A man who knew more. When Mama Efe fell sick the year Alex wrote his final secondary exams, it was Uncle John who came for him. He remembered that dusty morning at the junction—bag on his back, heart pounding in his chest. He had boarded a bus alone for the first time. That was the ride where he met the girl. He still didn't know her name, but he remembered her eyes, the calm in her voice. When he arrived at the bus park, Uncle John was waiting. They had barely settled in before Uncle John dropped the words like a stone in water. "Your mother… she passed, Alex. A long time ago. I thought it was time you knew." No details. No comfort. Just truth, raw and bare. Alex hadn't cried. He didn't know how to. He simply nodded, followed Uncle John, and began this new life. Now, sitting on the edge of the campus fountain after morning lectures, watching his friends chat and laugh just a few steps away, Alex felt that old silence again. It lived in him—quiet and deep, like the well at the center of his childhood home. But for the first time in a long while, it didn't feel as heavy.
Maybe it was the way Emily's parents treated him, or the laughter from last night's dinner, or even the quiet, kind way Angela had smiled at him when he hesitated with the menu. He didn't have all the answers. But he had people now—real people—who saw him. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough for now.Alex was still seated at the edge of the campus fountain, legs stretched out, elbows resting loosely on his knees. The breeze was mild, and the rustle of trees whispered like old songs. Laughter from Kenny and Mike echoed nearby as John and Angela argued over something trivial. Emily sat quietly beside them, lost in a book, occasionally joining in the laughter.
But Alex wasn't hearing them. He was deep in thought—buried in half-remembered memories, childhood images that played like shadows behind his eyes. That was when he saw her.
She wasn't just a passing silhouette this time—she was there, in full color, a few feet away, walking with two other girls, her backpack slung over one shoulder, curls bouncing slightly with each step.
Alex's eyes locked. He didn't blink.
She had a quiet grace to her—something soft, something that pulled attention without asking for it. She didn't speak much as she walked with her friends, only listening, her eyes occasionally sweeping around as if she were watching more than just the path ahead. Then her phone rang. She slowed, stepped aside, just beneath a jacaranda tree that painted the ground with violet petals. Her friends walked on a few steps before realizing and pausing to wait. She answered the call and laughed softly at whatever the voice on the other end said. She wasn't facing him directly, but something about her posture, the way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear—it felt familiar. Too familiar. Alex's chest tightened.
He leaned slightly forward. The girl turned slightly, looking across the fountain—and her eyes met his.
She didn't flinch or look away. Instead, she smiled. A slow, soft smile. And in that exact moment, the fog in Alex's memory cleared. It was her. The same girl from the bus. The one who had sat across from him on the way to the city—the one who had glanced at him briefly through the dusty window, her eyes calm, her presence quiet and magnetic. She hadn't spoken to him, but the memory of her had never left. And now, she was here. The smile she gave him now—it wasn't the casual smile of a stranger. It felt like recognition. Like she remembered him too. Alex's heart beat faster. He stood up—halfway—his body pulled toward her like a tide. He didn't know what he would say, but he had to say something. He had to go. But then—"Yo! Alex!" Kenny called out, laughing. "You're quiet like you just solved the world's problems." Mike added, "What's up, bro? You good?"
Emily glanced at him over her book, raising an eyebrow, while Angela turned to see what he'd been staring at. Even John noticed his sudden tension.
And in that brief moment, the girl waved.
Just a simple wave. A silent "hello" wrapped in a smile. And then, she walked away. Alex was still staring after her when the group finally looked to where his gaze had been. "Wait…" John said slowly. "Was she waving at you?" Angela blinked. "Do you know her?" Kenny narrowed his eyes, mouth already curling into a grin. "Oh-ho! Alex… you've been holding secrets."
Mike whistled low. "Man's got mystery moves." Alex tried to play it off. He chuckled faintly, rubbing the back of his neck, but there was a light in his eyes now—a flicker of something he hadn't shown them before. Emily smiled knowingly, closing her book. "That wasn't just any girl, was it?" Alex looked down, then back at the path where she had disappeared.
"No," he said quietly. "She's… someone I saw once. A long time ago." And for the first time in a while, there was no sadness in his voice. Just wonder. Just hope.Nora didn't expect to see him again. Not today. Not here. She tucked the phone gently between her ear and shoulder, answering her older sister's question with a short, amused hum. But her eyes had already drifted across the open courtyard, locking on the face that had haunted her memory more than once. She didn't even know his name. But she knew his eyes.
She remembered the bus ride—weeks ago now, maybe longer. She had just returned from her aunt's town. It was hot that afternoon, the kind of heat that made the glass windows too warm to lean against. She had taken a window seat out of habit, pulling out her earbuds and letting herself drift into thought, only to glance up and see him. Quiet. Sitting by the window across the aisle. His bag hugged his lap, his posture unsure. There had been something in his eyes—curiosity, uncertainty... but more than that, something sincere. He looked out the window mostly, watching the road, the people, the changing colors of towns. She had wanted to say something—anything. Even a simple hello.But the moment passed too quickly. And when she got off, she'd looked back only once.
Yet here he was. And still, those eyes.
The warmth of her sister's voice on the phone faded as her thoughts leaned toward him. He was still looking at her. Not in a way that made her uneasy—but like he was searching for something he couldn't explain. And she understood that. Because she felt the same. She offered him a smile. Not forced. Not polite. A real smile. A soft, wordless I remember you too. She watched him rise slightly from where he sat, as if ready to come closer—but then a storm of noise from his friends pulled him back into their world. Laughter, jokes, movement.
She recognized a few of them—students she'd seen on campus. The girl with the braids, the one holding a book—Emily. And another girl with soft curls, probably Angela. Nora didn't know them, not really. But they seemed close. He didn't wave.
But he didn't need to. She gave him a gentle wave, enough to say I see you... then turned to walk away as her friends finally called out to her. "Who was that?" one of them asked, a playful nudge in her voice. Nora only smiled. "No one," she said quietly. "Or maybe… someone."
She didn't explain. Not yet. But as they walked, she found herself glancing back one more time, just to be sure he was real. And he was."Okay… what was that?" Kenny asked, raising an eyebrow so high it nearly disappeared into his hairline.
Mike had already paused mid-laugh, turning to follow the direction of Alex's gaze. Angela was the next to catch on, her brow furrowing, eyes narrowing like she was solving a riddle. John just stared blankly, then blinked. Emily, of course, was the first to smirk. "Alex," she said in a teasing tone, "why do you look like you just saw a ghost—except one that smiled at you?" Alex blinked. Once. Twice.
Then he pulled his eyes away from the place where the girl had stood. "It's nothing," he said too quickly, too defensively. Kenny threw an arm around his shoulder. "Oh no, you're not getting away with that. She waved at you like she knew you! Who is she, huh? A secret crush? A classmate? "I've never even seen you freeze like that," Angela added. "Your mouth was actually halfway open."
"I wasn't frozen," Alex mumbled, but the warmth rising to his cheeks betrayed him.
Mike laughed. "Then what do you call that little lean you made forward? Bro, you were about to walk into destiny, and then we ruined it." Alex gave a crooked smile, shaking his head. "I… I saw her on a bus. A long time ago, when I first came to the city. "A bus?" Emily asked, suddenly softer. "You've never told us this."
Alex glanced down at the stone path under his feet, then back up. "Yeah. I was coming to meet Uncle John at the bus stop. She was sitting near me. I didn't speak to her… but I remember her. I've never seen her again until just now."
Angela gasped. "That's why you looked like that! It's been haunting you."
Mike clapped dramatically. "This is fate. We must find her again."Do you even know her name?" Emily asked.
Alex shook his head slowly. "No… but now I want to." Angela noticed the sudden change in Emily's voice and she knew something was happening to her friend but she's trying to hide it. Kenny grinned wide. "Man, we've got a mystery to solve."
But John, quiet all this while, finally spoke up. "Then you better not let her become a mystery again." Everyone turned to look at him. "What?" he said with a shrug. "I can be wise sometimes." Laughter bubbled up among the group as they slowly began walking again, the moment lightening, even as Alex's heart still lingered in the warmth of that smile.He didn't say it out loud, but he was thinking it: Next time, I'll talk to her. I won't just watch.The late afternoon sun was mellow now, spilling gold across the trees and warming the red-brick paths that stretched out before them. The group—Alex trailing just behind—walked leisurely back through the heart of campus, letting their conversation drift from one topic to the next. Kenny kicked at a pebble as he spoke. "So, are we all meeting for that presentation prep tomorrow? Or is someone going to disappear again like last time?"
"I wasn't late," Mike argued, "I was—strategically delayed. "Strategically snoring," Angela chimed in. They all laughed, even Mike, who held his hands up in surrender. "Yeah, yeah. I'll be there this time. I swear. "Good," Emily said with a smile. "Because Professor Ajayi already warned our group once. One more slip, and we might lose marks."
"That man does not joke with deadlines," John added, remembering their last encounter. Their path took them past the library, where a few students lounged on the stairs with books or snacks in hand. Nearby, someone strummed a guitar gently under a tree, the notes drifting lazily on the wind. "Campus feels different today," Angela murmured. "How do you mean?" Emily asked. "I don't know. Just… lighter," she said, glancing at Alex briefly. "Maybe it's all of us being together like this. After everything." Alex looked up, catching the last of the sunlight flashing through the leaves above. For the first time since he arrived at the university, he didn't feel like he was on the outside looking in. He was part of something. A real circle. People who cared. They reached the fountain in the center of campus—their usual crossroads. From here, everyone would branch off to their respective hostels or paths. They paused for a moment, as they always did.
Emily was the first to break the silence. "You guys want to hang out tomorrow after the prep? There's a film screening at the arts block. Should be fun."
"Definitely," Mike said. "I'm in," Angela added. John and Kenny gave thumbs up.
Alex hesitated for half a second, then smiled. "I'll come." They all shared a look, an invisible thread tightening around them—friendship, trust, growth. This group wasn't perfect. But it was theirs. And it was becoming something deeper with each shared day. As they parted ways and slowly began walking toward their hostels, Alex took a deep breath, soaking in the moment. The laughter still echoed faintly behind him as he turned to head off campus. The shadows were longer now, the sky kissed with pink and gold. But in his chest, something new stirred—a quiet peace, and the distant beat of courage.That evening, the room Emily and Angela shared was quiet—just the soft hum of the ceiling fan above, and the muffled voices of students passing outside. The girls had settled in after the day's swirl of events. Angela sat cross-legged on her bed, flipping through her notes, but her eyes kept glancing toward Emily, who was by the window, her arms folded, eyes lost in thought.
Angela finally closed her notebook with a soft thud and tilted her head. "You've been quiet since we got back," she said gently. "And don't try to tell me you're tired. I know you." Emily blinked, almost startled by the sound, then gave a small, tight-lipped smile. "Just… thinking."
"About that girl?" Angela asked, not unkindly. Emily hesitated, then sat down slowly on the edge of her bed. "Did it show that much?"Angela gave a knowing smile. "Only to someone who's shared a room with you for a while now." Emily let out a sigh, her voice quieter now. "It's silly, isn't it?"
"No," Angela replied immediately. "It's not silly. Talk to me." Emily leaned back on her palms, staring at the ceiling. "I still feel something… for Alex." Angela nodded slowly, giving her the space she needed.
"I don't know," Emily continued, voice softer. "That day… the moment we had, before I kissed that other guy—it was real. I felt something with Alex. I know he did too. But everything just happened so fast. That guy—Ryan—he leaned in and I didn't stop him. Maybe I was confused. Maybe I just wanted to feel something."
Angela watched her friend quietly, her heart tugging at the vulnerability in her voice. "But when we kissed," Emily said, frowning now, "I didn't feel anything. I thought I would. I thought maybe I was wrong about Alex, or maybe I just needed to move on. But…" She looked at Angela, eyes moist but not yet tears. "The moment it happened, I knew it didn't mean anything to me. Not like what I felt when I was with Alex." Angela shifted closer, placing a gentle hand on Emily's arm. "So why haven't you told him?"
Emily gave a sad smile. "Because I ruined it. He saw me with Ryan. He probably thinks I've moved on… or that I never felt anything for him to begin with. And now, seeing how he looked at that girl today… I don't know. It did something to me. Not out of jealousy, not really… more like… fear. Like I lost something I didn't even know I needed to hold on to."
Angela stayed quiet for a moment, then said, "Emily, I don't think it's too late. Not if what you two shared was real. Sometimes, people just need time to untangle their hearts. You're both still figuring it out." Emily looked down at her hands, then back at Angela. "You think so?" Angela nodded. "I know so. But you have to be honest with yourself first… and then maybe with him, when the time feels right." Emily smiled faintly, a mix of gratitude and sorrow in her eyes. "Thank you."Always," Angela replied, squeezing her arm. "Now come on. Let's make some tea. Talking about emotions makes me thirsty."Emily laughed softly as they both stood and made their way toward the small table in the corner. It wasn't fixed yet. But the conversation had opened something—a quiet truth between friends, and a flicker of hope that maybe… just maybe… hearts could find their way again.