20/08/2025
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Survival in the City
Episode 2: The First Night
By the time Chike’s bus rattled into Mararaba, the night had already swallowed the city. The streets were still alive—hawkers shouting, bike men revving, music thumping from distant bars—but Chike felt strangely alone.
He clutched his bag tightly as he searched for Emeka. The crowd pushed against him, faces rushing past without a second glance. Everyone seemed too busy surviving to notice a newcomer.
Finally, he spotted Emeka waving from a corner. His relief lasted only a moment.
“Guy, abeg no vex,” Emeka said quickly, scratching his head. “You fit manage small space for parlour, but no too make noise. My landlord dey para.”
Chike forced a smile. “No wahala, I go manage.”
When they reached the room, reality set in. The tiny one-room apartment was already stuffed—three boys inside, mattresses lined wall to wall. The air smelled of sweat, kerosene, and frustration.
“Your bag fit dey here,” Emeka said, pointing to a corner near the door. “As for bed, na floor you go manage till we find better way.”
Chike spread his wrapper on the hard floor, back against the wall. He tried to convince himself it was temporary. Tomorrow he would start job hunting. Tomorrow things would change.
But as the lights went off, whispers filled the room. The boys argued about rent. One cursed the government. Another complained of hunger.
Chike lay awake, staring into the darkness, listening to the city’s hum outside. Cars still honked in the distance, radios still played, and people still shouted. Abuja never slept.
He thought of his mother’s words before he left the village: “Remember, son, the city doesn’t love anyone. Shine your eyes, and don’t lose yourself.”
As the night deepened, his back ached from the cold floor, and mosquitoes sang their endless song. He closed his eyes, whispering the same prayer from the bus:
“God, abeg, no let me fail here. I must survive.”
✅ Lesson by Oba Chiekezie Innocent
The first night in the city is always the hardest. You learn quickly that survival is not comfort—it is endurance. The city strips you bare before it teaches you strength.
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