Episode 2
1277 Words
As the days drew closer to the international talent competition, Deborah's feelings for Mr. Fidelis continued to grow.
Every day she spent with him seemed to deepen her affection. She admired his patience, his confidence, and the way he believed in her talent. Yet while her heart was occupied with thoughts of him, another problem weighed heavily on her mind.
The competition.
One afternoon after training, Mr. Fidelis called her aside.
"Deborah, there are some important things we need to discuss concerning your trip."
Deborah smiled excitedly.
"Is everything ready?"
"Almost. But you'll need some documents, travel arrangements, accommodation, and registration fees."
Deborah nodded.
"Okay."
Mr. Fidelis hesitated before continuing.
"The estimated cost is about ten million naira."
The smile vanished from her face.
"Ten... million?"
Mr. Fidelis nodded.
Deborah felt as if the ground beneath her had disappeared.
Ten million naira?
Their family could barely afford their daily needs.
Where would they find such an amount?
She forced herself to remain calm until the training ended, but throughout the journey home her mind was in turmoil.
The closer the competition date came, the heavier Deborah's heart became.
What should have been the happiest season of her life was slowly turning into one of the most painful.
Every morning she woke up with excitement, remembering that she had been chosen to represent her country in an international singing competition. But that excitement never lasted long.
The moment she remembered the cost of the trip, her joy disappeared.
Ten million naira.
The figure haunted her day and night.
Sometimes she would sit quietly, trying to calculate how many years it would take her grandmother to save such an amount.
Other times she laughed bitterly at the thought.
Their grandmother struggled to keep food on the table.
The roof leaked during heavy rains.
Some months they depended entirely on the kindness of church members.
Ten million naira wasn't just a lot of money.
To Deborah, it was a mountain she could never climb.
One afternoon after training, Mr. Fidelis called her aside.
"Deborah, have you started processing the travel requirements?"
Her heart sank.
She forced a smile.
"Not yet."
"Why?"
Deborah looked down.
"You know why."
Mr. Fidelis sighed.
For a moment he didn't know what to say.
The truth was he understood her situation.
But international competitions required money, documents, and preparation.
Talent alone wasn't enough.
"The deadline is getting closer," he said carefully.
"I know."
"You need to start making arrangements."
Deborah nodded silently.
"Do whatever you can."
She smiled weakly.
"I will."
But as she walked away, tears gathered in her eyes.
She knew she was lying.
She had no arrangements.
No money.
No plan.
Nothing.
That evening she sat outside the house long after sunset.
The village was quiet.
Children were returning home.
Women were preparing dinner.
But Deborah remained seated under the mango tree.
Lost in thought.
Eventually, Grace came outside carrying two cups of water.
"You've been here for hours."
Deborah accepted the cup.
"Thank you."
Grace sat beside her.
Neither spoke for several moments.
Then Grace broke the silence.
"You're thinking about the competition again."
Deborah laughed sadly.
"Is it that obvious?"
"Very."
The smile on Deborah's face disappeared.
"What am I supposed to do, Grace?"
Grace remained silent.
"What?"
"I don't know."
Deborah lowered her head.
"Neither do I."
The words hurt more than she expected.
For years, whenever she had a problem, she always found a solution.
But this time felt different.
This wasn't something she could fix by working harder.
Or praying longer.
Or practicing more.
The problem was money.
And they didn't have it.
"What if this is my only chance?" Deborah asked softly.
Grace looked at her.
"What if another opportunity never comes?"
"It will."
"You don't know that."
Neither of them spoke.
After a while Deborah whispered,
"I haven't even told Grandma."
Grace turned toward her.
"You still haven't?"
Deborah shook her head.
"How do I tell her?"
"Tell her what?"
"That after all these months of training... after all this hard work... I may not be able to go because we're poor."
Grace sighed deeply.
"She deserves to know."
"I know."
"But I don't want to break her heart."
Grace gently squeezed her hand.
"You're carrying too much by yourself."
For the first time that evening, Deborah's eyes filled with tears.
"I don't want to disappoint everyone."
"You won't."
"What if I already have?"
"No."
"What if God gave me this gift for nothing?"
Grace immediately turned toward her.
"Don't say that."
"But—"
"Don't."
The firmness in Grace's voice surprised her.
"God didn't save me from that acid attack for nothing."
Deborah became quiet.
Grace continued.
"God didn't use your voice to heal me only to abandon us now."
The words lingered in the air.
Deborah wanted to believe them.
She really did.
But fear was louder than faith at that moment.
The following days became difficult.
Deborah became withdrawn.
At training she struggled to concentrate.
At church she barely spoke.
Even her singing lacked its usual passion.
Everyone noticed the change.
Especially their grandmother.
Mama Grace had raised the girls for many years.
She knew their expressions.
Their habits.
Their moods.
And she knew something was troubling Deborah.
One evening after dinner, she called her.
"My child."
Deborah looked up.
"Yes, Grandma?"
"Come sit beside me."
Deborah obeyed.
The old woman studied her face.
"You've lost weight."
"I'm fine."
"No."
The old woman shook her head.
"You are not."
Deborah forced a smile.
"I'm just tired."
"Tired from what?"
Deborah remained silent.
Mama Grace sighed.
"Since when did we start keeping secrets from each other?"
The question pierced her heart.
Tears immediately filled her eyes.
And before she knew it, everything came pouring out.
The competition.
The expenses.
The deadline.
The ten million naira.
The fear.
The disappointment.
Everything.
By the time she finished speaking, she was crying uncontrollably.
"I don't know what to do, Grandma."
The room fell silent.
Mama Grace simply sat there.
Listening.
Absorbing every word.
When Deborah finally stopped crying, the old woman reached out and wiped her tears.
"My child."
"I'm sorry."
"What are you apologizing for?"
"For bringing more problems."
Mama Grace shook her head.
"You are not a problem."
More tears rolled down Deborah's cheeks.
The old woman pulled her into a hug.
And for several minutes they remained that way.
Neither speaking.
Just holding on to each other.
Later that night everyone went to bed.
The house became quiet.
But sleep refused to come.
Mama Grace sat alone in her room.
The moonlight illuminated the wrinkles on her face.
She stared at an old photograph of her late daughter.
Deborah's mother.
Slowly, tears began rolling down her cheeks.
For years she had remained strong.
She remained strong when her daughter died.
She remained strong when her grandchildren became orphans.
She remained strong through hunger.
Through sickness.
Through hardship.
But tonight something inside her finally broke.
She looked toward heaven.
"Why, Lord?"
Her voice trembled.
"Why must these children suffer so much?"
More tears followed.
"My daughter is gone."
She held the photograph tightly.
"You took her from me."
Her shoulders shook violently.
"Now her child finally has a chance to pursue her dream."
The old woman sobbed quietly.
"A chance she worked so hard for."
"Why place such a blessing before her if she cannot reach it?"
Her cries echoed softly through the room.
for several minutes she cried before God.
Not as a strong woman.
Not as a grandmother.
But simply as a broken heart.
A woman tired of watching her family suffer
Eventually she slept off.
to be continued.......
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