The Man who I thought loved me

Aisha sat on the worn wooden stool in her small one-room apartment in Lagos, Nigeria. The room was a humble abode, sparsely furnished with just a single mattress on the floor and a small table that doubled as a kitchen counter. But what caught the eye was the array of vibrant Ankara fabrics strewn across the room, a kaleidoscope of colors and patterns that told a story of dreams and aspirations. Aisha was hunched over a sewing machine, her fingers deftly guiding the fabric under the needle as she worked on the latest design for a client. The room was filled with the rhythmic sound of the sewing machine, a sound that was both comforting and hopeful to Aisha, who harbored big dreams of becoming a successful fashion designer.