Chapter 2 : Meet Sarah
1035 Words
I got so caught up in sharing my Valentine’s Day experience that I completely forgot to introduce myself properly. Before I forget again, hi — my name is Sarah.
I studied Computer Science at the University of Ilorin, and after finishing my NYSC, I moved to the eastern part of Nigeria. I come from a family of four — my father, my mother, my older brother, and me. I’m the second child, so I’ve always been somewhere in between — not the first to take the spotlight, but not the youngest either. It’s a position that comes with its own quiet observations.
A few years ago, my brother moved to Ghana, searching for greener pastures and better opportunities. I, on the other hand, decided to move east. Looking back, most people would have told me to stay in Lagos. After all, Lagos was where the opportunities were — the jobs, the network, the fast-paced life. But I had my reasons for leaving. The east felt quieter, calmer, and somehow more aligned with my personality. It was a place I could breathe, think, and focus on myself without being swallowed by the chaos of a megacity.
When I first got there, I didn’t want to live alone, and neither did my friend Shola, whom I had met back in university. She had moved to the same part of the country for work, and we decided to rent a shared apartment. Splitting rent and bills made things easier financially, and having someone I trusted around made the transition smoother. Living with Shola felt natural. We were compatible roommates, but also friends who genuinely enjoyed each other’s company. She worked in a tech company, steadily building her career, while I was still finding my path.
I was twenty-four at the time, navigating life with the unsteady balance of ambition, uncertainty, and dreams that sometimes felt just out of reach. I had recently started exploring content creation. It wasn’t easy, but it was something I loved — expressing myself, sharing thoughts, documenting experiences, and experimenting with creative ideas. I had to admit, though, that being jobless while chasing creative dreams came with its own challenges. The bills, the daily routines, the feeling of being “in between” — it could be discouraging. Yet, there was freedom in it too. I didn’t have a rigid schedule, I had time to think, and I had a sense of independence I had never experienced before.
My favorite pastime during that period was swimming. I would often go to the local pool, sometimes alone, sometimes with friends I had made after moving east. Swimming became more than just a hobby — it was a therapy of sorts. The water had a way of washing away stress and making my problems seem smaller, at least temporarily. There was something meditative about the rhythm of swimming laps, feeling my body glide through the water, and hearing only the sound of my own breathing.
Our apartment was modest, but it felt like home. Shola and I had painted the walls soft pastel colors, added some greenery with potted plants, and personalized the space with our little quirks — a string of fairy lights in the living room, motivational quotes stuck to the fridge, and our favorite posters hanging on the walls. The apartment wasn’t luxurious, but it was comforting. It was a space that reflected us, our ambitions, our struggles, and our shared moments of joy.
Despite enjoying the calm of the east, I couldn’t help but notice how different life was compared to Lagos. Opportunities were fewer, networking was harder, and social events were less frequent. But I liked the slower pace, the sense that life could breathe here, and that there was room to grow without being rushed. Shola often reminded me that patience was key, and that good things were worth waiting for. Sometimes, I wondered if moving here was the right choice — but every time I visited the balcony of our apartment and looked out over the quiet streets bathed in evening light, I felt at peace.
My life in the east wasn’t all routine and calm, though. Even without a steady job, I found ways to stay busy and pursue my passions. Content creation became an avenue to meet like-minded people, explore new ideas, and even gain small opportunities for collaboration. I would spend hours scripting short videos, editing photos, and brainstorming ideas for posts that reflected my personality, my thoughts, and my everyday experiences. It was a way to express myself and feel productive, even in the uncertainty of a transitional period in my life.
Living with Shola added another layer of comfort and companionship. We had our routines — cooking together, sharing meals, binge-watching series on weekends, and supporting each other in times of stress. She was the practical one, reminding me to update my resume, apply for jobs, and consider stable career paths. I, on the other hand, tended to drift into creative tangents, exploring new content ideas, sketching out designs, and experimenting with storytelling. Our differences made us a perfect balance, and our friendship gave me a sense of stability that was otherwise missing from my life at the time.
Sometimes, I thought about my family back in Ilorin. My parents, always supportive yet quietly anxious about my life choices, had been pillars of guidance. My brother’s move to Ghana had created a small void, but it also inspired me to take charge of my own life. We would call often, catching up on events, sharing our successes, and consoling each other during moments of doubt. It was these conversations that reminded me I wasn’t alone, even when life felt uncertain.
At twenty-four, I was learning that life was full of transitions, some exciting, some challenging, and some bittersweet. My journey east was part of that learning — discovering independence, friendship, and personal growth. But even amid these discoveries, a part of me still longed for connection, for a love that felt real and grounding, the kind that didn’t need pretenses or walls.
- Writer
