SOTERIA’S POV
When I told Naya to come over for our “serious Bible meeting,” I did not expect her to actually show up ten minutes earlier than the time we agreed.
I was still in my room arguing with my wardrobe when my phone rang.
“I’m outside,” she said, breathless.
“Outside where?”
“Your gate.”
I frowned. “You’re joking.”
“I’m not joking. Soso, why is your gate taller than my future?”
I burst out laughing and ran to my balcony. When I peeped down, I saw her standing just outside the pedestrian gate, craning her neck upward like she was inspecting a monument.
My house did that to people.
It was not obnoxious in design, but it was grand in a quiet, confident way. Cream walls, tall pillars, glass balconies, trimmed hedges shaped neatly along the driveway.
I hurried downstairs, nearly slipping on the polished tiles because I was laughing too hard.
When I opened the door and stepped out, she placed both hands on her head dramatically.
“Soteria.”
“Yes?”
“This is a house?”
“It is.”
“Are you sure it’s not a hotel?”
“It is not.”
“Are you sure your father is not secretly a governor?”
I laughed again and pulled her into a hug.
“Enter first before you faint.”
She stepped in slowly, her eyes moving everywhere at once. The foyer alone was bigger than her entire sitting room at home, and I knew it. The chandelier overhead caught the afternoon light and scattered it in soft gold reflections across the marble floor.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
“You have said that three times already.”
“I will say it ten more times. Your staircase curves like something in a wedding magazine.”
“It is just staircase.”
“Just staircase, she said,” she muttered, shaking her head.
I took her bag from her and led her properly inside.
“Come. We’re using the study room.”
“You have a study room?”
“Naya.”
“I’m asking a genuine question nau.”
“Yes. We do.”
She followed me down the hallway, still looking around like she was afraid to breathe too loudly.
When we entered the study, she stopped again.
The room was lined with bookshelves from floor to ceiling. Architecture books. Business journals. My mother’s old literature collections. A long oak table in the center. Two armchairs by the window. A soft rug underfoot.
“This is where you read?” she asked.
“Sometimes. Sometimes I just sit here and pretend to read.”
She laughed.
“Okay, this is intimidating. I suddenly feel like I should have dressed more seriously.”
“You look fine, baby girl.”
She did. Simple jeans, a modest top, hair pulled back neatly.
We settled into the armchairs facing each other. She brought out her Bible, her notebook, and a pen. I brought nothing.
“You didn’t even bring your Bible?” she asked.
“I thought you would come with an extra one.”
She shook her head, smiling.
“You are unserious.”
“Very.”
She opened her Bible.
“Okay. Where do we start?”
I leaned back and folded my arms.
“From David.”
“David?”
“Yes. Explain to me how a small shepherd boy killed a giant with just a stone and a sling.”
She blinked.
“That’s where we are starting?”
“Yes.”
She inhaled slowly.
“Okay. First of all, David was not just a random small boy. He had experience. The Bible says he killed lions and bears while protecting sheep. That sling was not a toy. It was a weapon he had practiced with.”
I nodded slowly.
“But Goliath was massive,” I insisted. “He had an armor, a sword, spear. Years of training. How does a stone beat that?”
She leaned forward.
“It wasn’t just the stone. It was obedience and faith. David refused to wear Saul’s armour because he knew it wasn’t tested for him. He used what he was familiar with. He trusted God. And the stone hit the only vulnerable spot.”
“The forehead,” I said quietly.
“Yes.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“So you’re telling me faith helps you target your enemy?”
She laughed softly.
“No. I’m saying courage and clarity matter. Goliath had size. David had conviction. Sometimes that’s enough.”
I thought about that longer than I intended.
“Okay,” I said. “Then what about Jonah??.”
She sighed lightly, already bracing herself.
“Why did Jonah not die inside the fish?” I asked. “Three days? No oxygen? No digestion? Nothing?”
She tilted her head thoughtfully.
“The story is about mercy more than marine biology.”
I laughed.
“I’m serious.”
“I know. But sometimes miracles are not meant to be scientifically comfortable. Jonah disobeyed God. He ran away from an assignment given to him. The fish was not punishment; it was a form of preservation. It kept him from drowning.”
“That sounds like a spin.”
“It’s the perspective you look at it from.”
She paused and looked at me carefully.
“Why are you asking all these questions like this?”
“Because I don’t like believing blindly.”
“And you shouldn’t,” she said firmly. “Faith is not stupidity. It’s trust built over time.”
Her tone had changed slightly.
I leaned forward.
“Okay. So what about suffering? Why do good people suffer?”
She did not answer immediately.
She rested her Bible on her lap.
“That one,” she said slowly, “I don’t have complete answers to.”
I blinked.
“You don’t?”
“No.”
I sat back, surprised.
“But I know this,” she continued. “The Bible does not pretend suffering doesn’t exist. Even Jesus suffered. Job suffered. The disciples suffered. Sometimes suffering is a consequence. Sometimes it is growth. Sometimes it is mystery.”
She looked at me directly.
“But God does not waste pain.”
The room felt quieter after that.
I stared at her.
“You sound like that your Pastor Olive.”
She smiled faintly.
“She taught us that.”
“Who is she even?”
“Our cell pastor. She is also midweek service teacher. She explains things properly. She doesn’t dodge questions.”
I hummed thoughtfully.
“So do you think I should meet her?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Next Wednesday. During midweek service.”
I leaned back again and crossed my legs.
“I’ll think about it.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“That means no.”
“It means maybe.”
Before she could respond, we heard a car horn outside.
I frowned.
“Who is that?”
Another horn.
Then the sound of the gate opening.
My heart jumped.
I ran to the window and froze.
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
“My parents.”
“What?”
“They’re back!”
I did not wait to explain. I ran out of the study, down the hallway, nearly tripping over the rug.
“Daddy!” I shouted as I reached the foyer.
The door opened and there they were. My father looking slightly tanned from travel, my mother glowing in that effortless way she always did after vacations.
“Unwana baby!” my mother exclaimed as she dropped her bag and opened her arms.
I crashed into her.
“You didn’t tell me you were coming today!”
“It was a surprise,” my father said warmly.
I hugged him next.
“You people went to Italy and forgot your last child.”
My mother laughed.
“As if you would have allowed us rest.”
“Never.”
I suddenly remembered Naya.
“Oh!” I grabbed my mother’s hand. “I have a friend around.”
“A friend?” my father asked, amused.
“Yes. She’s here. We were studying.”
My mother’s eyebrows lifted slightly in approval.
“That is good. Bring her.”
I ran back toward the study.
Naya was standing up awkwardly when I entered.
“Are you okay?”
“My parents are back from Italy.”
Her eyes widened.
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
“Come and greet them.”
She hesitated briefly.
“Do I look okay?”
“You look fine.”
When we entered the foyer, she straightened slightly.
“Good afternoon, sir. Good afternoon, ma.”
My mother’s face softened immediately.
“You’re welcome, my dear.”
“This is Naya,” I said. “She came to help me understand some things I had difficulty with.”
“Oh, that is very good,” my father said warmly. “It is good to have friends who strengthen you.”
Naya smiled politely.
“Yes, sir.”
My mother held her hand gently.
“You are always welcome here.”
I noticed the way Naya’s shoulders relaxed slightly at that.
After a few minutes of light conversation about Italy, food, and how I survived without them, we excused ourselves back to the study.
When we closed the door behind us, Naya exhaled.
“Your parents are so calm.”
“They are.”
“They didn’t even blink when they saw me.”
“Why would they blink?”
“I don’t know. Rich people sometimes blink.”
I laughed loudly.
“You’re actually very dramatic.”
She sat down again and reopened her Bible.
“Okay. Where were we?”
“You were convincing me to come to midweek service.”
“Yes.”
She leaned forward.
“Soso, I don’t know everything. But the Holy Spirit helps Pastor Olive explain things deeply. If you really want answers, come next week.”
I studied her face for a while.
“I’ll come,” I said finally.
Her eyes brightened.
“Really?”
“Yes. Next Wednesday abi??.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
She smiled so wide it almost made me laugh again.
We wrapped up after another thirty minutes of gisting.
When she stood to leave, my mother insisted on seeing her off.
“Come again next time,” my mother said warmly.
“I will, ma.”
Outside, I insisted on dropping her at the junction so she could get a cab.
As we drove, she looked out the window quietly for a moment. When we reached the junction, she turned to me.
“Next week Wednesday, Soso.”
“I know.”
“Don’t disappoint me.”
“I won’t.”
She hugged me tightly before stepping out.
As I watched her walk toward the roadside, my phone started ringing.
Chimamanda.
I smiled and picked up.
I did not even wait for the second ring.
“Amandaaaa!” I shouted into the phone.
“My baby!” she squealed back. “Where are you? I’ve been trying to reach you since!”
“I just dropped off a friend. We had Bible study.”
There was a short silence on the line.
“Bible study?” she repeated, the way someone says, Are you sure this is you speaking?
“Yes now,” I said, rolling my eyes though she could not see me. “Don’t start joor. What’s up?”
Her tone changed immediately. It became that sugary, dramatic tone she used when she was about to deliver gist.
“You are sitting down, abi?”
“I’m driving, please talk.”
“Gurlllll,” she lowered her voice. “My sugar daddy is turning sixty next week.”
I nearly swerved.
“Sixty?!” I gasped. “Amanda!”
“Don’t shout,” she laughed. “He is aging like fine wine, thank you very much.”
I shook my head, smiling despite myself. “Okay, continue.”
“So. This Saturday, we’re going on a boat cruise and then we will camp afterwards.”
I blinked. “Boat cruise as in… one evening boat cruise?”
“No, darling. Two days but the celebration is for one week.”
My hand tightened on the steering wheel.
“A whole week?” I repeated.
“Yes. We take off from Lagos. Private arrangements. We’ll cruise out and head to ZIBA Resort. It’s exclusive. Very private and elite. All bills paid. Accommodation, food, fun activities. Everything.”
For a moment, I forgot to breathe.
“A whole week?” I whispered again.
“Yes! And he said I should invite my friends. You can come with your man. Or come alone. Or come with anyone you want. There will be businessmen, investors, clients. The kind of people that can push your brand to the next level.”
Now she had my full attention.
“Investors?” I asked carefully.
“Yes, baby. Serious money men. If you play your cards well, your business will thank you.”
My heart began to race. My mind was already calculating. Exposure, Networking, Visibility. I could land a huge client without my father’s help again.
“And it’s free?” I asked suspiciously. Money was not a problem for me. I could sort it out.
“Everything. Flights to Lagos covered. Accommodation covered. Food covered. Activities covered. You will not bring out one naira unless you want to shop.”
I laughed in disbelief.
“Wait, wait,” I said. “From Saturday to Saturday?”
“Yes.”
“And we’re sleeping where?”
“At ZIBA Resort. We booked the Luxury villas. We have access to the Poolside and the beach. Babe, this is not your regular party. This is high class.”
I parked by the side of the road because my brain could not process it while driving. I loved having fun.
“Amanda…”
“Yes?”
“I am coming.”
She screamed.
“That’s my girl!”
“I’m coming. Of course I’m coming. Why would I not come? A whole week cruise? Free? Networking? Please!”
“I knew you would not disappoint me.”
“When exactly?”
“We take off this Saturday morning. You have to be in Lagos by Friday night.”
I didn’t even pause.
“I’ll be there.”
“That’s my baby!” she squealed again. “And listen. Bring bikinis.”
I laughed loudly.
“Bikinis?”
“Yes! A lot of them. We are not going there to dress like church girls. We are going there to look hot. If your man is not ready, another man will snatch you.”
I burst into laughter.
“You are mad.”
“I’m serious. Pack bodycon dresses. Cute sets. Sunglasses. You must glow.”
“You want to turn me into an influencer?”
“Turn you into? You already are. Just activate it properly.”
We both laughed.
“Are you bringing Ayo?” she asked.
“Of course,” I replied quickly. “Why would I not bring him?”
“Good. Let him come and see that life is not only sitting down and complaining about work and rejected proposal.”
“Please leave him.”
She lowered her voice slightly.
“You know there will be other fine men there too.”
“Amanda.”
“I’m just saying.”
“You and your bad mouth.”
She laughed again. “Anyway, details will drop in the group. Start preparing. And please, don’t come there with one small swimming wear. Pack well.”
“Yes ma.”
“Okay my love. See you soon.”
“Bye, baby.”
When the call ended, I sat there in silence for a few seconds.
My chest was rising fast. I suddenly felt restless and excited. Parties were my thing. This was the life I loved.
The Bible study from thirty minutes ago felt far away. Like something that happened in another life.
I quickly dialed Ayo.
He picked up on the third ring.
“Babe.”
“Guess what!” I said immediately.
“What happened?”
“Next week we’re going on a boat cruise.”
There was a pause.
“We?” he asked.
“Yes, we. From this Saturday till the next Saturday. We will go to ZIBA Resort in Lagos. Amanda’s sugar daddy is turning sixty.”
He exhaled slowly.
“Soteria…”
“Don’t start,” I said quickly. “It’s high class. Investors will be there. It’s good for my business.”
“Hmm. You don’t even need the connection. Your family has enough.”
“Pleaseeee… That is not the issue. You’re coming with me.”
Another pause.
“I can come,” he said eventually. “But we need to talk.”
“Talk about what?” I asked lightly.
“About us.”
I rolled my eyes.
“We’ll talk during the trip. Imagine discussing relationship issues inside the luxury villa with a beach view. It will even be sweet.”
“I’m serious, babe.”
“So am I,” I replied. “Ayo, we’ve been distant, yes. I know. But this trip will help us relax.”
He was quiet again.
“Okay,” he said finally. “I’ll come.”
“Good!” I clapped my hands. “Start looking for fine outfits. I will come over to help you pick if need be.”
He laughed softly despite himself.
“Okay, babe.”
“Thank you.”
After the call ended, I leaned back in my seat.
My brain was buzzing.
I suddenly remembered midweek service.
I frowned slightly.
It clashed.
The cruise started this Saturday and Wednesday was midweek service.
I would still be in Lagos by then.
And honestly, my head was already in Lagos.
I brushed the thought aside.
I would figure it out.
My phone rang again.
It was Naya.
I picked up.
“Madam!” she said excitedly. “I just got home. Thank you for today.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Don’t forget Wednesday o. Pastor Olive will be so happy to meet you.”
“Yes, yes,” I replied absentmindedly, already imagining myself in a white bikini by the beach.
“You’ll come, right?”
“Of course,” I said quickly.
But even as I said it, my mind was somewhere else.
After we ended the call, I sat in the car for a while longer.
I immediately called Amara.
She picked on the first ring.
“Soteria my love .”
“Baby!”
“You sound breathless. What did you do?”
“I did not do anything. But something is about to happen.”
She sighed. “Tell me.”
“So this week, there’s a boat cruise in Lagos. Afterward we head to ZIBA Resort for a good time. Amanda’s… situation is turning sixty and he’s throwing a full week celebration.”
There was silence.
“Situation?” she repeated.
“You know what I mean.”
“You mean her sugar daddy.”
“Yes.”
Another silence.
“And you’re telling me this because?” she asked slowly.
“Because you’re coming with me.”
She laughed once. Dry.
“No.”
“What do you mean no?”
“I’m not interested.”
I rolled my eyes. “Why?”
“Soso, I don’t like Amanda and you know it.”
“That is not enough reason.”
“It is. I don’t like what she stands for. I don’t like this whole arrangement. She is following somebody’s father around because of money. It’s very wrong.”
“It’s her choice,” I replied quickly. “It doesn’t concern us.”
“It concerns you if you’re aligning yourself with it.”
“Oh please,” I scoffed. “I’m not marrying the man. I’m going for the experience and the networking.”
Amara was quiet.
“Soteria,” she said finally, her tone softer now, “you know I don’t judge people easily. But that lifestyle… it has consequences.”
“It’s not my lifestyle,” I snapped lightly. “It’s Amanda’s. I’m just attending a party.”
“A week-long party.”
“Yes.”
“With men like that.”
“Men like what?”
“Men who think everything has a price.”
I exhaled.
“Amara, you’re overthinking things. It’s just vibes.”
“Is Ayo coming?” she asked suddenly.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Her voice held something I couldn’t quite place.
“What does that mean?”
“It means at least you won’t be there alone.”
I leaned back against my car seat.
“He’s coming,” I repeated.
“When last did you see Akila?” she asked casually.
My fingers tightened around my phone.
“Last week,” I answered carefully.
“And?”
“And what?”
“How was it?”
“Normal.”
She hummed softly. The kind of hum that meant she did not believe me.
“Do you like him?” she asked directly.
My heart skipped.
“No.”
The answer came too fast.
She did not respond immediately.
“Babe,” she said gently, “do you like him?”
“I said no.”
Even as I said it, something in my chest felt dishonest.
Because my heart did not answer as quickly as my mouth.
“I think you’re confused,” Amara said calmly.
“I’m not confused.”
“You are.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re with Ayo but you light up when you talk about Akila.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is.”
I went quiet because I did not have the energy to argue. Because part of me knew she wasn’t entirely wrong.
“You don’t love Ayo,” she continued carefully.
“I never said I loved him.”
“That’s the problem.”
I swallowed.
“You like attention,” she said. “You like excitement. You like how Ayo makes you feel wanted. But with Akila… it’s different. You respect him. You slow down around him.”
I stared at the dashboard.
“You’re reading too much into it.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.” She sighed.
“Check deep down, babes.”
I didn’t respond.
“It’s possible you like Akila.”
“I don’t,” I said firmly, even though my chest tightened.
“You might.”
“Stop joor.”
“You might.”
“I said stop.”
There was a pause.
“Why are you this defensive?” she asked softly.
I felt irritation rise in me.
“Can we not do this? I called you to invite you for an event, not for therapy.”
She laughed lightly.
“Fine. I’m still not coming.”
“You must come.”
“I won’t.”
“I will find you a rich, fine man on that boat. Not your useless boyfriend that is still managing life in Jikwoyi.”
She burst into laughter.
“You’re not serious.”
“I’m serious.”
“You want to upgrade me?”
“Yes.”
“Meanwhile you are here in a love triangle.”
“There is no triangle.”
“There is.”
“There isn’t.”
“You’re confusing your village people,” she teased.
“Amara.”
“And please don’t say you love Naya when you’re using her to get close to her brother.”
I went quiet immediately because that thought had crossed my mind once and I had pushed it away.
“That’s not true,” I said quietly.
“Is it?”
“It’s not.”
She was silent.
“I genuinely like Naya,” I added.
“I believe you,” she said softly. “But you also enjoy being around her because of how you feel about her brother.”
My throat felt dry.
“I’m tired,” I said finally. “I want to rest.”
“Soteria…”
“I said I’m tired.”
“Okay,” she replied gently. “But check your heart.”
“I will.”
“And sort yourself out before you hurt someone.”
I did not answer.
“Call me later,” she said softly.
“Okay.”
When the call ended, I sat there in silence.
The excitement I had been carrying began to feel heavier.
Her words echoed in my head.
You’re confused.
You light up when you talk about him.
You might like him.
I stared ahead, but I wasn’t seeing the road anymore.
Was I using Naya?
No.
Was I drawn to Akila?
I swallowed.
I didn’t want to answer that.
Because if I admitted it, then everything would shift.
And I wasn’t ready for that.
I suddenly felt tired. Very tired.
The cruise still excited me.
The idea of Lagos still thrilled me.
But something inside me felt unsettled now.
I started the engine slowly and as I drove home, I did not turn on music.
I let the silence sit with me.
And for the first time that night, I wasn’t smiling.
I was thinking.
And the more I thought, the sadder I felt.
Amanda is the weapon fashioned against Soteria at this point..
Because whattt??
At this point, Soteria needs prayers
Mummy Akinyemi: The enemy loves to use beautiful women.
Amanda: Allow me to introduce myself
I had a comment. Then I saw Esther's comment and the words flew out of my mind. No drowning please. Just let our girl remember why she wanted to go to the midweek in the first place. And perhaps a little Akila yearning should come in. The whole Amanda invite situation is like when you want to do the right thing then all of a sudden so many options that are not right come up tempting you. I hope she does the right thing.
I can't wait for Soteria and Akila to 🚢! I will be here awwing the loudest 😄