Her Escape, His Obsession

Omotara Adeyemi “Tara,” as everyone fondly called her, was the first of four children and the only girl. To the villagers, she was the very picture of black, brilliant, and beautiful. Her ebony skin gleamed beneath the morning sun, and her eyes held a sharp intelligence that made her seem older than her years. At just seventeen, she had become something of a local mystery: a girl with hands always busy building contraptions, a mind forever searching for solutions to problems most people had long accepted as fate. Yet despite her gifts, Tara’s world was small. Her life had never extended beyond the dusty footpaths of Aiyetoro, a village tucked deep in Western Nigeria. She had never seen Lagos, never touched the ocean, never set foot in any of the big universities she had read about in the books stacked high in her beloved library. And still, she dreamed. “There has got to be more to my life,” she whispered into the darkness of her room, as the crickets chirped outside. Her younger brothers snored softly on their mats nearby, oblivious to the storm raging inside her. Tomorrow she will turn eighteen. It should have been the beginning of her freedom, the age where she could finally chase her ambitions. Instead, it felt like a prison door was swinging shut. “I thought by now,” she murmured, hugging her knees, “I’d be in one of the best schools in the country. With the grades I finished with… being the best student in my State… I really thought my life would have begun by now.” Her chest tightened with frustration. It had been three long years since she finished secondary school. Three years of working at the community library. Three years of sketching, tinkering, and building little inventions that made daily life in the village easier. A makeshift water filter that saved women the backbreaking task of fetching clean water miles away. A hand-powered grain grinder that cut the men’s farming time in half. And most recently, solar panels crafted from recycled metal and scraps, a miracle of ingenuity that now kept her family’s lamps on long into the night. But in her father’s eyes, none of that mattered. As per tradition, Papa had already chosen her fate. In six months, she would be married off to Chief Olalekan, the richest man in the region, she would be his fourth wife. The arrangement would bring her family wealth and status. New farmland. Cows. Jewelry. A house with a tin roof instead of mud. The villagers whispered with envy about how lucky Tara was. But to her, it felt like a death sentence. “If only I could get a job in the city,” she thought bitterly, her eyes burning. “Then I could send money home, and Papa wouldn’t have to marry me off to that… pathetic old man.” The tears came before she could stop them. She pressed her face into her pillow, sobbing quietly so her brothers wouldn’t hear. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a stubborn voice whispered: There has to be a way out. Eventually, exhaustion pulled her under. The rooster’s crow split the silence of dawn. Tara jolted awake, her heart pounding. She glanced at the cracked wall clock: 5:30 a.m. Relief washed over her. She could leave for the library before anyone else stirred. By 6:15, she was there, sweeping the small compound and unlocking the iron gate. The scent of old paper greeted her, warm and comforting, as she stepped inside. If home felt like a cage, the library was freedom. Here, among the dusty books and fading encyclopedias, she was unstoppable. Here, she could dream. She could travel without moving an inch. She could be anyone; a doctor in Lagos, a scientist in London, a professor lecturing in faraway places. She was bent over an engineering manual, sketching a new design for her solar grids, when a cheerful voice rang out. “Professor Tara, exploring the world again, are we?” She looked up, startled, then smiled. Mrs. Rose stood at the doorway, balancing a basket on her hip. A middle-aged woman with kind eyes and a laugh that filled the room, she was more than just the village librarian. Years ago, she had also been Tara’s principal and now, she was her confidante. “I didn’t even hear you come in. Good morning, Mrs. Rose!” Tara grinned, springing up to hug her. “Good morning, my dear. And more importantly… happy birthday!” Mrs. Rose beamed. “I have a surprise for you. Actually, two surprises.” Tara groaned dramatically. “You know I don’t like surprises!” Mrs. Rose only laughed, pulling a small cake box from the basket. “First, your favorite, chocolate cake. Fresh from my oven.” Tara’s eyes lit up. “Oh, Mrs. Rose!” She hugged her tightly again. “And second,” Mrs. Rose continued, her voice lowering with excitement, “I’ve entered you into a competition.” Tara blinked. “A competition?” “Yes. The Young Inventor’s Competition, organized by the UK government. They’re focusing on rural communities like ours. It will be held right here at the town hall in two months. And I’ve already paid for your entry form.” For a moment, Tara just stared at her, words caught in her throat. “You… you did what?” Mrs. Rose chuckled. “Don’t look so shocked. I’ve watched you for years, Tara. I know the brilliance inside you. I also know the burden you’re carrying. This competition could change everything.” Tara shook her head, half-laughing, half-crying. “But Papa… he would never let me leave the village. And even if I did, what would I compete with?” “You’ll compete with what you’ve been building,” Mrs. Rose said firmly. “Those solar panels. I’ve seen them. You’ve brought electricity to your home. Do you know how extraordinary that is? The judges will see it too. And the prize…” She paused dramatically. “is a fully funded scholarship. To study in the UK. All the way to PhD level, if you want.” Tara’s jaw dropped. “A… a scholarship? To the UK?” Mrs. Rose nodded. “Yes. Everything you’ve dreamed of. This is your chance.” For the first time in years, hope surged so strong in Tara’s chest it almost hurt. A scholarship abroad? A chance to study science, to become someone, to bring her family out of poverty? “Mrs. Rose… I don’t know what to say. Thank you! I promise, I’ll pay you back someday!” Tara clasped her hands, tears brimming in her eyes. “Don’t thank me yet,” Mrs. Rose teased. “Thank me when you win.” Tara laughed, but the sound trembled with nerves. Her solar panels worked, yes but they were still fragile, unfinished. Could she perfect them in time? Could she really stand before judges, compete with others, and win? Still, a fire had been lit in her. “I’ll do it,” she said finally, her voice steady. “I’ll make the panels bigger. Stronger. I’ll power the school and the clinic. And if I win… Papa will have to reconsider this marriage. He’ll see that I can give him more than Chief Olalekan ever could.” Mrs. Rose’s eyes softened. “That’s the spirit, Tara. I’ve always believed God had more for you. This… this might just be the open door.” Tara cut into the cake, laughing through her tears. “This really is the best birthday ever.” That evening, she returned home with a box of cake for her brothers and a mind bursting with ideas. While the boys devoured the slices, she sat quietly in a corner, sketching new designs. The panels had to be more than just wires and tin sheets. They had to shine, to prove she belonged on the world stage. She imagined the judges watching as she unveiled them, the look on Papa’s face when she won. For the first time, her dreams felt possible. But deep down, she knew the weeks ahead would test her like never before. And as the night wind rattled the windows, Tara whispered a silent prayer: Lord, let this be my way out.  She prayed that the competition would change not just her future, but the fate of everyone she loved.