Chapter 5: A Collision
1148 Words
The Saturday morning sun peeked through the dusty blinds of a co-working loft in Yaba, flooding the room with gold. Tiaraoluwa arrived early for a collaborative brainstorming session organized by TechSpark. The founders were grouped into teams to develop a mock product under time pressure, designed to test how well they could work together.
Tiara adjusted the strap of her leather laptop bag and walked to her assigned table, where two other founders were already seated. She introduced herself politely, offering small smiles and a confident handshake. Then came the fourth person.
Iremide.
He was not supposed to be in this session. But apparently, mentors could now opt in to shadow teams. And of course, he had picked this one.
"Good morning," he said, sliding into the seat beside her like it was the most normal thing in the world.
"You again," she muttered, not quite meeting his eyes.
"Missed me?"
"You wish."
The session began, and Tiara quickly assumed a leadership role. The team was tasked with designing a digital platform to help market women track their daily sales. One founder suggested gamification. Another proposed loyalty points. Tiara countered with simple voice-input logging and auto-generated summaries.
Iremide said little, watching instead how she carried the room with her calm command, her ability to listen, filter, and synthesize in real time.
When she mapped out a prototype using only a whiteboard marker and instinct, he smiled. It reminded him why he hadn’t stopped thinking about her since that rooftop moment.
As they wrapped up the session, Tiara stepped aside to grab coffee. He followed.
"You’re intimidating in work mode," he said.
"That’s the idea."
He handed her a paper cup. "Still. You make it look graceful."
"Careful, Adegbite. Flattery is lazy networking."
He held up his hands. "Then let me ask a real question: what drives you?"
She paused, then answered honestly. "People who don’t get seen. Women in tech. Farmers in the rural north. Kids who think Figma is only for iPhones. "I want to build bridges they don’t even know they need yet."
He stared at her for a moment, then said, "You’re exactly what this ecosystem needs."
Their eyes locked, something tender rising between the spaces of caffeine and ambition.
Before she could respond, her phone buzzed.
Kemi: Girls’ night still on? I’m ordering the puff-puff now.
Tiara smiled. She looked back at Iremide. "Duty calls."
That night, she and Kemi spread throw pillows across the living room, playing Asa in the background, their plates filled with jollof rice, grilled shrimp, and the legendary puff-puff. Kemi’s relationship drama continued. David had now bought her a necklace.
"I swear he’s soft-launching you on i********:," Tiara teased.
"Shut up. He’s just... nice. It’s suspicious."
"Maybe it’s just nice because it’s real."
Kemi studied her for a second. "Speaking of real, what’s going on with Mr. Tech Tycoon?"
Tiara exhaled. "He’s... present. Watching me work. Listening."
"Sounds like he sees you. Fully."
"And that’s the scary part."
The night wore on, and laughter mixed with vulnerability.
As they curled up on opposite ends of the couch, Tiara asked, "So how exactly did you meet David? You've never really told me."
Kemi rolled her eyes, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. "At an art exhibit in Surulere. You know that one with the spoken-word artist you bailed on?"
"Oh, that night! I had that client meltdown."
"Yeah, well, you missed magic. He bumped into me while holding a tray of puff-puff. Spilled sauce on my sleeve."
Tiara gasped. "How romantic."
Kemi laughed. "He apologized so genuinely, bought me chapman, then spent the next hour getting to know me. I thought it was a smooth game. But he’s been consistent ever since."
Tiara studied her. "So what’s the hesitation?"
Kemi’s smile faded slightly. "Remember Chuka?"
Tiara winced. "The one who ghosted after three months and resurfaced, married? The same Chuka who sent you flowers every Monday and flew you to Accra for your birthday?"
"Exactly. Chuka was charming, confident, and a successful business executive. The kind of guy who never worried about day-to-day activities because someone else always handled them. He love-bombed me from day one: flowers, weekend getaways, the works. He made me feel like I was the center of his universe.
Then there were the trips to London, Nairobi, and even a weekend in Zanzibar. I told myself I was lucky. Like, at least if I was going to get my heart broken, I got to collect some passport stamps first, right?
But it all unraveled in Cape Town. We were at a brunch spot, and this random woman approached me. Turned out she was his wife's friend. Wife. Not ex. Not estranged. Current. And I was the side dish he forgot to mention.
He ghosted me a week later. Blocked me on everything. Then months after, he showed up in my DMs claiming their marriage was already falling apart, and he was just 'waiting for the right time' to tell me. Like all cheaters do."
"David’s not Chuka."
"I know. But my heart doesn’t. Not yet."
They sat in silence for a beat, the hum of the fridge filling the space.
"You ever think we’re just building these walls too high to protect what’s already gone?" Kemi asked softly.
Tiara reached over and squeezed her hand. "Maybe. But maybe we’re also just learning how to build better doors."
Kemi exhaled. "Bars."
They both laughed, and in the quiet that followed, the room settled around them like a soft promise: healing doesn’t always have to roar. Sometimes, it’s two friends on a couch, daring to believe again.
When they finally fell asleep under a half-watched rom-com, Tiara’s last thought was of Iremide’s question.
What drives you?
She didn’t have all the words for it yet.
The next morning, Kemi awoke groggily to the smell of tea and the sound of Tiara typing at her desk. "You don’t sleep, do you?" she murmured.
Tiara smiled without turning around. "Dreams don’t code themselves."
Kemi sat up, stretching. "Honestly, after last night, I feel lighter. Like I left some of Chuka’s ghost in the suya wrapper."
Tiara chuckled. "Closure by pepper sauce. Sounds like a wellness brand."
Kemi laughed too, then paused. "But really, thanks. For listening. For not judging. I’ve carried that for so long."
"You’re allowed to be human. And hopeful. David might just surprise you."
Kemi grabbed her tea and leaned against the wall. "And I hope I’m ready if he does."
They stood in silence, steeped in sisterhood, letting the morning promise a new beginning.
That quiet honesty, the safety of shared scars, and the will to keep rising were the pillars of the life Tiara was building. And maybe, just maybe, it was the safest foundation of all.
But she was beginning to believe it wasn’t something she had to answer alone anymore.
- Writer
