The house Dayo bought in Lagos sat quiet.
But quiet in a way that meant distance.
He didn't stay close to extended family. That had been intentional about Dayo and his family coming over but Privacy was easier when distance existed. The compound was secure, modern, slightly elevated from the surrounding neighborhood — not flashy like that of the house he lived in at U.S but good.
No one knew the exact location yet.
And that was how he wanted it.
This visit wasn't for other than celebrating the family so he didnt want to step into the lime too much to take the shine away from the bride.
The next morning.
Dayo was leaning against the balcony railing when his mother stepped out to meet him.
Inside the house, movement was already starting. Fabric rustling. Quiet instructions. Someone laughing too loudly and being told to lower their voice. The atmosphere carried that restrained excitement that came before something culturally important.
