THE ROAD TO ME

chapter 12

Clemson stopped giving me money. He no longer bought food for the house or helped with my transportation. I was forced to trek to auditions and struggled to make ends meet.

One evening, I couldn’t take it anymore and confronted him. “What did I do wrong?” I asked, my voice trembling.

Clemson looked at me, his expression a mix of frustration and weariness. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Happy,” he said with a heavy sigh. “But I can’t keep doing this. It’s draining me. I have my own struggles too, but you don’t seem to see that.”

His words hit me like a slap. I hadn’t realized how much pressure I had been putting on him. Still, I couldn’t help but feel betrayed. “So, you’re giving up on me now? After everything I’ve been through?”

“I’m not giving up on you,” he replied softly. “But I can’t carry both of us anymore. You’re strong, Happy. You’ll figure this out.”

His honesty stung, but deep down, I knew he wasn’t entirely wrong. I had been relying on him too much.

That night, I cried myself to sleep. By morning, I was resolved to make a change. If I truly wanted to achieve my dreams, I needed to take responsibility for my own survival.

I began searching for jobs. After weeks of trying, I finally landed a position as a cleaner at a hotel. The salary was ₦15,000 a month—barely enough to cover my basic needs, but it was a start.

Working at the hotel was exhausting. I woke up at dawn, cleaned rooms for hours, and returned home late, too tired to even rehearse my lines most days. The staff treated me decently, but the physical toll of the job was immense.

Clemson and I remained in the same house, but the warmth between us was gone. He had completely stopped taking care of me, and our relationship felt strained and unhappy.

Auditions became a challenge. On the rare days I managed to attend, they were even more draining. Sometimes, I’d rush to the audition venue straight from work, still in my uniform and sweaty, only to find the roles had already been filled. Other times, despite my efforts, I wouldn’t get a callback. But I refused to give up.

Nancy remained a constant source of support. We encouraged each other, often laughing at our misfortunes just to keep going.

One day, Nancy brought exciting news. “There’s another audition coming up,” she said, her face lighting up with a wide grin. “It’s for a major production. We have to go!”

As members of the production house, we had to inform the producer before attending any audition. When we told him, he approved it as usual. It wasn’t just Nancy and me preparing this time; several of our new friends from the production house were going too—many of whom, we discovered, were dating the producer.

We practiced tirelessly, rehearsing our lines and perfecting our delivery. Clemson noticed my renewed determination and, surprisingly, offered to help.

“I believe in you, Happy,” he said, handing me a small bundle of cash. “Go show them what you’re made of.”

The day of the audition arrived. After my morning shift at the hotel, I rushed to the venue, still in my uniform, praying I wouldn’t be late. Nancy and I sat in the waiting room, surrounded by dozens of hopeful actors.

When it was finally my turn, I stepped onto the stage with my heart pounding.

I poured everything into my performance, channeling the pain, hope, and resilience I had gathered over the years. When I finished, the room was silent for a moment before erupting into applause.

The casting director smiled at me. “You’ve got something special,” he said. “We’ll be in touch.”

For the first time in a long while, I felt a spark of hope.

Nancy and I left the audition venue with wide smiles on our faces. “No matter what happens,” she said, “we’re one step closer to our dreams.”

Her words filled me with gratitude. I wasn’t alone on this journey.

Back at home, I shared the audition experience with Clemson. He listened intently, a proud smile lighting up his face. “You’re going to make it, Happy,” he said with confidence. “I can feel it.”

Despite the hardships, I finally felt like I was on the right path. The road to me was still long and uncertain, but I was determined to keep moving forward.

I waited and waited for a callback from the movie people, but weeks passed, and they never called. However, Nancy got the call. She told me she didn’t know how it happened, but she was thrilled. It was a huge job, and the producer was a big Lagos-based producer who had come to Uyo specifically because of the storyline. I felt so bad. I wanted that opportunity badly.

The day they were leaving for the location, I was cleaning the hotel rooms when Nancy called. “We’re on our way,” she said. “I missed you, girl.” It was her first time going to a location alone since we met, and I couldn’t help but feel sad.

Why wasn’t I favored? I had done well, and the director had even complimented me. But still, here I was, cleaning rooms while Nancy was off to pursue a big opportunity.

“Mtcheeeew,” I muttered under my breath. “I’ll do better next time.” And with that, I continued my work, pushing the frustration aside, determined to keep moving forward.

The disappointment of missing the big opportunity weighed heavily on me, but life had taught me that setbacks often lead to greater comebacks. I chose to focus on excelling at the hotel while preparing for the next opportunity.

A few weeks later, Nancy called from the movie set, her voice brimming with excitement.

“Happy, this is incredible! The set is amazing, and the director is so professional. I wish you were here.”

I forced a smile, masking the ache in my heart. “I’m happy for you, Nancy. Make the most of it.”

“I will,” she replied warmly. “And don’t give up. Your time will come.”

Her encouragement comforted me, but it couldn’t erase the sting of being left behind. While she was living the dream, I was scrubbing floors and wiping tables.

One afternoon, as I was cleaning the hotel lobby, Clemson’s call interrupted my thoughts. His tone was unusually stern.

“We need to talk when you get home,” he said abruptly before hanging up.

A knot formed in my stomach. I couldn’t focus for the rest of the day, anxious about what awaited me.

That evening, I rushed home, restless and uneasy. When Clemson returned, he ate, rested, and then summoned me to talk.

“I’m done waiting, Happy,” he said firmly. “Either you become my woman, or I bring other women into this house—or you leave. I can’t wait forever.”

His ultimatum left me speechless. I sat in silence, weighing my options. None of them felt right. Reluctantly, I suggested he wait a little longer, but he refused. When I admitted I wasn’t ready for a relationship, Clemson acted swiftly.

That night, he brought another woman home and made me sleep in a neighbor’s room. This arrangement persisted through the weekend.

When the woman finally left, Clemson informed me that she wanted me gone, claiming she didn’t trust me around him. He didn’t argue and gave me a few days to leave.

After the shock news I received from Clemson.

Heartbroken, I went to work the next day and cried while cleaning one of the rooms. I didn’t notice the hotel owner enter until it was too late. I quickly apologized and tried to compose myself, but he had already seen my tears. Without a word, he left.

Shortly after, the manager summoned me to the office. Nervously, I entered, only to find the CEO waiting.

“I saw you crying earlier,” he said gently. “What’s wrong?”

At first, I hesitated, but then I opened up. I explained my situation, referring to Clemson as a cousin to avoid embarrassment. I shared how I had been asked to leave the house after enduring repeated humiliation and how I was determined to work hard and save money to build a better life.

He listened intently, his expression filled with empathy. After a moment, he asked the manager to join us, and I was excused.

That evening, I returned home to find Clemson had locked me out. While waiting outside, I called Nancy. Her stories about her thriving career lifted my spirits momentarily but also deepened my sense of inadequacy.

When Clemson finally arrived, he ignored me and walked inside. I followed silently, resolved to leave his house for good. I had managed to save ₦15,000, and I was determined to start anew.

What I didn’t know was that fate was already working in my favor.

The next day, the manager called me into the office again. The CEO was there, his expression calm yet kind.

“Happy,” he began, “I’ve noticed your hard work and resilience. I admire your determination, even in tough times. I want to help.”

I nodded, my heart pounding.

“I’ve decided to let you move into one of the staff quarters permanently,” he said. “As long as you’re working here, you’ll have a roof over your head. This will give you the stability you need to focus on your future.”

Tears filled my eyes as I stammered my gratitude. “Thank you, sir. This means so much to me. I promise I won’t let you down.”

He smiled. “I know you won’t. You’ve earned this.”

After my shift, the manager handed me the key to my new room. It was a modest space with a bed, desk, and wardrobe, but to me, it was a sanctuary. For the first time in months, I had a place to call my own.

That night, as I unpacked my belongings, I felt a renewed sense of hope.