He Promised Me Work In Lagos, Na Trap I Enter (EPISODE 34)

EPISODE 34 – I Shelter Another Girl

Lagos never truly sleeps. And some nights, its shadows stay awake longer than the people.

That evening, I was returning from a small catering job, tired but grateful. As I turned into my street, I noticed a young girl crouched close to the gutter, trying to make herself invisible. She held a small bag tightly to her chest. Her eyes were wide, not from the Lagos heat, but from fear.

Something inside me shifted.

I had seen that look before. I had worn it myself.

I slowed down and approached her carefully, my voice soft so I wouldn’t scare her.
“Are you okay?” I asked.

She flinched, then nodded weakly. When she spoke, her voice shook.
“I just arrived in Lagos today. I don’t have anywhere to sleep. He… he is following me.”

Those words landed heavily. Fear. Hunger. Control. Dependence.
I knew them too well.

I looked around the street, then back at her. I didn’t need more explanation.
“Come inside first,” I said gently. “It’s small, but you can rest here. You’re safe, at least for tonight.”

Inside my room, she sat stiffly on the edge of the mat, her eyes constantly darting to the door. I noticed her trembling hands, the way she jumped at every sound. I felt the weight of responsibility settle on me — heavy, but familiar.

As we talked, her story unfolded slowly. Promised work. Promised care. A man who suddenly wanted to control where she went, who she spoke to, when she slept. Fear disguised as help.

Her words sounded like echoes of my own past.

“You’ll stay here tonight,” I told her firmly. “Tomorrow, we’ll plan. Small-small. You’ll find honest work. You won’t depend on anyone who wants to cage you.”

She looked at me like she didn’t fully believe it — but like she wanted to.

That night, as she slept on the mat beside mine, I lay awake thinking. Lagos had tried to break me. It had tested my strength, my dignity, my will. But somehow, surviving had given me something unexpected — purpose.

Maybe activism doesn’t always start with noise or crowds. Sometimes, it starts with opening a small door. Sometimes, it is just saying, “You are not alone.”

Fear was still there. The shadow of my own past still followed me. But for the first time, it did not control me.

Helping her did not just protect her.
It reminded me that I was no longer powerless.

---

Episode 35 Coming Soon
As Nkiru begins to guide the younger girl toward safety, danger stirs quietly in the background. In Lagos, predators don’t like losing control.
Will protecting another girl expose Nkiru to a threat she thought she had escaped?