The weeks passed in a blur of routine and restlessness. Ayo's days were a cycle of work, study, and daydreams. By day, he worked as a junior graphic designer at a small advertising firm in Ikeja, where his creativity was stifled by clients who wanted "something simple and cheap." By night, he buried himself in books and online forums about studying abroad, his laptop screen casting a faint glow in the dimly lit room.
His mother noticed the change in him. She would often find him staring into space during dinner, his plate half-empty. "Ayo, you're not eating," she would say, her voice laced with concern. "Is everything okay?"
"I'm fine, Mama," he would reply, forcing a smile. But the truth was, he wasn't fine. The weight of his dreams felt heavier with each passing day, and the cracks in Tobi's perfect image of Jand were beginning to show.
It started with a phone call.
Ayo was at work when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and saw Tobi's name. Surprised—Tobi usually sent texts or voice notes—he excused himself and stepped outside to take the call.
"Bro, how far?" Tobi's voice was cheerful, but there was an edge to it that Ayo couldn't quite place.
"I'm good," Ayo replied, leaning against the wall of the building. "What's up? You never call."
Tobi laughed, but it sounded forced. "I just wanted to hear your voice, you know? It's been a while."
Ayo frowned. "Is everything okay over there?"
There was a pause, and for a moment, Ayo thought the call had dropped. Then Tobi sighed, the sound heavy and unfamiliar. "Honestly, bro, it's not easy. Life here is… different from what I expected."
Ayo's heart sank. "What do you mean?"
Tobi hesitated, as if weighing his words. "The jobs… they're not what they promised. I'm working two shifts just to make rent. And the people… let's just say not everyone is welcoming."
Ayo was silent, his mind racing. This wasn't the Tobi he knew—the confident, optimistic cousin who had always been his role model.
"But you're okay, right?" Ayo asked finally.
"I'm managing," Tobi replied, his voice softer now. "But I just wanted to tell you… don't rush into coming here. Think about it carefully. It's not all sunshine and roses."
The call ended shortly after, leaving Ayo with more questions than answers. He stood there for a long time, the phone still pressed to his ear, the noise of the city fading into the background.
That evening, Ayo found himself on the balcony again, the brochure for the UK visa program clutched in his hands. He stared at the glossy images of smiling students and iconic landmarks, but they no longer held the same magic. Tobi's words echoed in his mind, a stark contrast to the dream he had been chasing.
"Ayo."
He turned to see Damilola standing in the doorway, a tray of tea in her hands. She had a way of showing up when he needed her most, as if she could sense his turmoil.
"I brought you some tea," she said, setting the tray down on the small table beside him. "You look like you could use it."
Ayo managed a weak smile. "Thanks."
They sat in silence for a while, the steam from the tea curling into the cool night air. Finally, Damilola spoke. "What's on your mind?"
Ayo hesitated, then told her about the call with Tobi. As he spoke, he felt the weight of his doubts pressing down on him, threatening to crush the dream he had held onto for so long.
Damilola listened quietly, her expression thoughtful. When he finished, she reached out and placed a hand on his arm. "Ayo, it's okay to change your mind. Dreams evolve, and so do we."
He looked at her, his eyes searching hers. "But what if I'm giving up too soon? What if I'm just scared?"
"There's a difference between giving up and choosing a different path," she replied gently. "And it's okay to be scared. That just means you're human."
Her words were a balm to his restless soul, but they also stirred something deep within him—a realization that perhaps his dream wasn't about Jand at all. Perhaps it was about finding a place where he belonged, a place where he could thrive.
As the night deepened, Ayo sat there, the brochure still in his hands, but his mind was no longer on the glossy images. Instead, he found himself thinking about the vibrant streets of Lagos, the warmth of his family, and the untapped potential of his own country.
Maybe, just maybe, his dream was closer than he thought.