CHAPTER TWO
1776 Words
Greg sat in silence in the back seat, the development proposal resting beside him.
He didn’t know it yet.
But the decision to visit Eldoria that morning would become one of the most important decisions
of his life.
Because sometimes, the greatest changes in a man’s life don’t arrive dressed in expensive
suits.
Sometimes, they come quietly.
Unexpectedly.
The moment Greg Jason’s car turned into Eldoria Market, the first thing he noticed was the
noise.
Not the polished hum of traffic he was accustomed to hearing from the windows of Jason
Holdings.
This was different.
Louder.
Messier.
Alive.
“Fresh tomatoes!”
“Madam, come and buy! I will give you a good price!”
“Pepper! Fresh pepper!”
“Greg Jason!”
The shout came from somewhere on his left.
Greg turned his head.
An elderly woman sitting behind a wooden table piled high with vegetables had spotted him.
Her eyes widened.
“Ah!”
She jumped to her feet so quickly that three tomatoes rolled off the table.
“Greg Jason!”
Within seconds, the news spread.
“Greg Jason is here!”
“Jason!”
“Mr. Jason!”
“The Jason boy!”
Women abandoned their stalls.
Children stopped playing.
Men turned their heads.
Suddenly, Greg’s arrival became the most interesting thing that had happened in Eldoria that
morning.
His driver looked at him through the rear view mirror.
“Sir?”
Greg stared through the window.
He hadn’t expected this.
“Open the door.”
The driver hesitated.
“Sir, are you sure?”
Greg gave him a look.
“Unless you want me to climb through the window.”The driver quickly got out and opened the door.
The moment Greg stepped onto the dusty ground, the crowd erupted.
“Look at him!”
“He has grown so handsome!”
“Ah-ah! See this fine young man!”
“Jason!”
“Mr. Greg!”
Greg couldn’t help smiling.
A woman with a colourful wrapper tied around her waist hurried toward him.
“My son!”
Greg blinked.
“My what?”
The woman laughed loudly.
“My son! Come here and let me look at you properly.”
Before he could react, she grabbed his arm.
“You are taller than the last time I saw you.”
Greg smiled awkwardly.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Thank you for what?”
She slapped his arm affectionately.
“You don’t remember me?”
Greg looked at her face.
He genuinely didn’t.
She burst into laughter.
“Of course you don’t remember me. You rich people don’t remember poor people.”
The laughter around them grew.
Greg shook his head.
“No, ma’am. That’s not true.”
“Then tell me my name.”
Greg opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
The woman laughed even harder.
“See! He doesn’t even know my name!”
“Leave him,” another woman called out.
examination.”
“He has just arrived, and you are already giving him an
“Examination?”
The elderly woman replied.
prove that he knows the people here.”
“If he wants to marry from this market, he must first
“Who said he wants to marry from the market?” a third woman asked.
“Look at him properly and tell me he came here only to buy tomatoes.”
The women burst into laughter.
Greg stood there, trying desperately not to laugh.
One elderly woman leaned toward another and whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear.
“This is the kind of son-in-law I have been praying for.”
Her friend gasped.
“Which of your daughters?”
“The first one.”
“The first one? That stubborn girl?”
“Keep quiet!”
The second woman laughed.
“Greg Jason cannot marry your daughter.”
“Why not?”
“He is too rich for her.”
The first woman folded her arms.
“Then he should marry her and make her rich too.”
The women burst into laughter.
“My daughter is better,”
another woman announced.
“Better than whose daughter?”
“Everybody’s!”
“Your daughter that cannot cook?”
“She can learn!”
“She doesn’t know how to pound yam!”
“Does Greg look like he needs somebody to pound yam?”
The market erupted again.
Greg covered his mouth, laughing.
For the first time since he had stepped into Eldoria, the weight sitting on his shoulders seemed
to disappear.
Then another woman shouted,
“Greg! Marry my daughter!”
The crowd cheered.
“Yes!”
“Take her away from this poverty!”
“Make her a big woman!”
“Don’t let her suffer like us!”
Someone shouted from the back,“Greg, I have three daughters! Pick one!”
“Three?” another woman asked.
“Yes!”
“All three?”
“If you can afford it!”
The laughter became deafening.
Even his driver had to turn away to hide his smile.
Greg shook his head.
“You people are unbelievable.”
“Don’t pretend you don’t hear us!” one of the women called.
“Look at his clothes!” another shouted.
“Look at his shoes!”
“See his wristwatch!”
“That’s the kind of husband we need!”
Greg looked down at himself.
His expensive watch suddenly felt heavier on his wrist.
He glanced around.
The contrast hit him.
Hard.
His shoes alone probably cost more than some of the vegetables being sold around him.
His watch could probably feed one of these families for months.
And yet these women were laughing.
Smiling.
Calling him their son.
Trying to make jokes about marrying their daughters.
Because hope, Greg realized, could survive in places where money barely did.
He slowly walked deeper into the market.
The laughter faded behind him.
His eyes moved from stall to stall.
A young girl sat beside her mother, carefully arranging tomatoes into small piles.
Another woman was peeling cassava.
A little boy carried a basin almost too large for him.
A teenage girl stood over a smoking charcoal stove, stirring something in a blackened pot while
trying to keep an eye on the younger children playing nearby.
Greg stopped.
He watched the little boy struggle with the basin.
“Hey.”
The boy looked at him.
“Come here.”
The child approached cautiously.
“What is your name?”
“Daniel.”
“How old are you?”
“Eight.”
Greg frowned.
“Eight?”
The boy nodded.
“What are you carrying?”
“My mother’s vegetables.”
Greg looked at the basin.
It was almost half his size.
“Do you go to school?”
The boy’s eyes dropped.
“Sometimes.”
Greg felt something tighten inside his chest.
“Why sometimes?”
The boy shrugged.
“Mummy says when there is money.”
Greg looked toward the boy’s mother.
She had heard.
Her smile disappeared.
“School fees,”
she said quietly.
Greg nodded.
He didn’t know what to say.
He had never had to wonder whether there would be money for school.
He had never watched his mother count coins before deciding whether the family could afford
dinner.
He had never had to carry vegetables through a dusty market before sunrise just to put food on
a table.
For a moment, he simply stood there.
Watching.
A little girl ran past him with two loaves of bread tucked beneath her arm.
Another child chased after her.
A woman shouted at them to slow down.Someone laughed.
Someone argued over the price of onions.
A baby cried.
A motorcycle horn blared somewhere near the entrance.
Life continued.
Despite everything.
Greg looked around again.
This wasn’t an abandoned piece of land.
This wasn’t an empty development site.
This was someone’s home.
Someone’s livelihood.
Someone’s childhood.
Someone’s entire world.
And his father had reduced all of it to a line on a blueprint.
Demolish it.
Greg swallowed.
His eyes returned to the little girl sitting beside her mother.
She couldn’t have been more than six.
She was holding a single tomato in both hands, staring at it as though it were something
precious.
Greg felt an unfamiliar ache settle in his chest.
He turned away.
“Sir?”
His driver had followed him.
Greg didn’t answer immediately.
He looked at the rows of stalls again.
Then at the children.
Then at the women.
He remembered his father’s words.
Start thinking like a man who owns an empire.
Greg’s jaw tightened.
Maybe this was the problem.
His father had taught him how to build an empire.
But nobody had ever taught him what it meant to destroy one.
“Sir?”
Greg finally looked at his driver.
“Do you know how many people live around here?”
The driver shook his head.
“No, sir.”
Greg nodded slowly.
“Neither does my father.”
He turned back toward the entrance to the market, where his car was parked.
He looked around at the market one last time.
The women were already returning to their stalls.
The children were running between them.
The shouting had resumed.
Someone was bargaining loudly over a basket of peppers, while another
woman laughed so hard that she nearly dropped the tomatoes in her hands.
Life had returned to normal.
But Greg’s mind hadn’t.
He looked down at the development plans in his hand.
Jason Eldoria Development Project.
The words suddenly looked different.
He folded the papers slowly.
His father had seen an empty piece of land.
Greg had seen people.
And that difference was going to cost him.
He turned toward the car.
“We’re leaving,” he said.
His driver opened the door.
Greg paused before getting in and looked back at the market.
A little boy was helping his mother arrange vegetables.
An old woman was arguing with a customer over the price of tomatoes.
Two young girls were laughing as they carried a basket between them.
Greg watched them for a long moment.
Then he got into the car.
The door closed.
As the vehicle pulled away from Eldoria, Greg rested his head against the seat and stared
silently through the window.
For the first time, he wasn’t thinking about how much the new Jason empire would make.
He was thinking about how many people would lose everything to build it.
And somewhere deep inside him, a question began to grow.
Was becoming the man who would inherit the Jason empire worth becoming the man
who destroyed someone else’s?
Greg didn’t have an answer.
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