The gig fell through.
Not completely tho. Just delayed. The guy Dayo knew needed two more weeks. Which meant two more weeks of juggling coins and explaining to the landlord why I didn't have his money yet.
I picked up small jobs where I could. Edited a few videos for a campus blogger. Designed a flyer for someone's birthday. ₦2,000 here. ₦3,000 there. Enough to eat. Not even enough to breathe.
Kunle got paid for some tutoring work and covered part of the rent. I told him I'd pay him back. He said don't worry about it. But we both knew I'd worry anyway.
That's how it works. Debt is sticky. Even the kind between friends.
I ran into Zainab again at a campus event. Some seminar about entrepreneurship that everyone attended for the free lunch. She was sitting near the back, notebook open, actually taking notes.
I sat a few rows behind her.
The speaker was saying something about mindset. About how success starts in the mind. About how we're all capable of greatness if we just believed.
I stopped listening.
After the talk, during the rush for food, I ended up in line behind her.
"You actually took notes?"
She glanced back, "Some of it was useful."
"The part about believing in yourself?"
She replied, "No. The part about knowing your market."
We got our plates - jollof rice, chicken, plantain. Found a spot under a tree away from the crowd.
"You really want to start a business?" I asked.
"I want options," she said. "Don't you?"
"I want to not be broke."
"Tchh, That's not the same thing." She said.
"Well, It is,Close enough.".
She ate slowly. I ate like someone who didn't know when the next meal was coming.
"What do you write about?" she asked.
"Stuff."
"That's vague." She said.
"It's honest."
She looked at me properly then. Not judging. Just looking.
"You're afraid someone will ask you to show them," she said.
I didn't answer.
"I get it," she continued. "I paint sometimes. Haven't shown anyone in two years."
"Why not?"
She replied, "Because then it becomes something people have opinions about. Right now, it's just mine."
I understood that.
We finished eating. Sat there for a while, not talking, just watching students scatter back to their lives.
"You going back to the lodge?" she asked.
"Eventually."
"Me too." she said.
We walked together partway. She lived off-campus, in one of the quieter streets. The kind of place that costs more but feels less chaotic.
"Your parents pay your rent?" I asked.
She replied, "My dad. But he reminds me every month."
"At least he pays it."
She replied, "Yeah."
We stopped at the junction where our paths split.
"I'm around if you want to talk," she said. "About writing. Or not writing. Whatever."
"Same."
She left first. I watched her go, then walked back alone.
When I got to the lodge, Tunde was outside, leaning against the wall, smoking. Tunde was older than most of us. Final year, but he'd been final year for three years now. Carried over courses. Failed exams. Life kept pushing him back.
"You good?"
"Define good." he replied.
I sat beside him. He offered me the cigarette. I don't smoke but I took it anyway. One drag. Gave it back.
"Met someone,"
"Girl?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"She know you're broke?" He try'na laugh.
I replied, "Not yet."
He laughed, "They always find out."
"Maybe this one's different." I said confidently
"They never are." He said.
I wanted to argue but didn't. Tunde had been through it. Relationships that ended because of money. Because of stress. Because survival doesn't leave room for softness.. or does it?
"You still talk to Amaka?" I asked.
His face changed. "No."
"Sorry." Felt sorry for him frr.
"Don't be. It is what it is, lol" He said.
He finished the cigarette. Stubbed it out. Went inside without saying goodnight.
I stayed outside a bit longer.
The street was quieter now. A few lights. A few voices. The city at rest, or pretending to be.
I thought about Zainab. About the way she'd said she wanted options. Like she'd already figured out that life wasn't about one path. It was about having a backup. And a backup for the backup.
Lol, Smart.
I thought about Tunde. About how he used to talk about Amaka. How he'd loved her. How it hadn't been enough.
I went inside.
Kunle was asleep. I didn't turn on the light. Just lay down in the dark, staring at the ceiling.
My phone buzzed.
A text from my mother.
'Your sister's school fees is due. If you can help, even small.'
I turned off the phone.