Her Escape, His Obsession

Chapter 2

The auditorium buzzed with energy, its walls alive with nervous laughter, whispered rehearsals, and the occasional burst of applause.

Tara sat stiffly in her seat, her palms clammy against the folds of her worn dress. The competition was fierce, some of the brightest minds from across Ogun State had gathered, each clinging to the same hope she carried: that this chance might be their escape.

She forced herself to breathe slowly, though her heart drummed like bata drums before a festival. Her stomach twisted as she watched one contestant after another step forward with confidence, unveiling inventions so polished that Tara wondered why she had even come.

Surely, the judges had already made up their minds, after all the brilliant inventions, what chance did I really have?! She thought to herself.

When her name was finally called, her legs trembled. She rose, every eye in the hall burning into her as she climbed the stage. The microphone loomed like an enemy. For a moment, her throat closed, her mind blank. Whispers drifted from the crowd. A judge tapped his pen impatiently.

Then, somewhere in the audience, she caught the eyes of Mrs Rose and an elderly woman. They leaned forward, their faces glowing with encouragement. Their smiles steadied her. Tara straightened her back, drew in a shaky breath, and began to speak.

Her voice wavered at first, but then it grew stronger, clearer, carrying her words across the hall. She explained her idea: a simple but affordable solar panel solution. The idea had consumed her every waking moment, a way to bring light to villages like hers where darkness fell too quickly and stayed too long. As she spoke, passion took over. Her eyes lit up, her hands moved animatedly, and the fear melted away.

By the time she finished, the hall was silent for a heartbeat, and then applause broke out. Loud. Resounding. Even the judges leaned in, their expressions transformed from polite attention to genuine interest.

Tara stepped off the stage, her legs weak but her spirit soaring. She had done it. She hadn’t frozen. She hadn’t failed.

Minutes later, the judges returned, their deliberations brief. One of them, a tall man in a dark suit from the UK consulate, cleared his throat.

“After careful consideration, we have decided. The first prize goes to Omotara Adeyemi, for her indigenous Solar Panel Solution.

Not only does it display intelligence and creativity, it offers a practical answer to one of the greatest challenges faced by communities such as yours. Congratulations, young lady.”

The hall erupted. Tara gasped. She had won. Her knees nearly gave way as she stumbled forward to receive the certificate and trophy, the applause pounding in her ears. Tears welled in her eyes as she clutched the award, her heart swelling with a joy so fierce it hurt.

But the announcement was not yet finished.

“As part of your prize, Omotara Adeyemi, you have also been awarded a full scholarship to study abroad. This opportunity is designed to nurture your gift and ensure it flourishes to its full potential. We look forward to seeing how you will change the world.”

The reality of these words struck her like lightning. A scholarship. Abroad. Beyond the borders of the life she had always known.

The joy of victory quickly tangled with fear and dread.

Papa.

The crowd surged forward to congratulate her, the older women embracing her with pride, tears glistening on their cheeks. Everyone celebrated. Everyone, except the one man whose approval mattered most.

Later that evening, Tara returned home with the trophy clutched tightly to her chest. Her siblings crowded around, touching it reverently, as if it were made of gold. Her mother’s eyes shone with pride.

But Papa sat silently on the wooden chair by the doorway, his face unreadable.

“Papa,” Tara began softly, holding out the certificate with trembling hands. “I won. And they want me to study abroad. A scholarship. It is free. Everything will be taken care of.”

His eyes narrowed. He did not take the paper.

“You will not go.” His voice was firm, final. “I told you not to waste your time entering into any silly competition”.

The air thickened. Tara’s heart plummeted.

“Papa, please,” she whispered, fighting the quiver in her voice. “This is my chance. Do you not see? I can become someone. I can change things, for our family, for our community...”

He slammed his palm on the table, making her flinch. “Enough! Going abroad with strangers is too dangerous. What if something happens to you? What if you never return? I will not risk my daughter for dreams built on sand.”

Tara’s chest burned, her vision blurring with tears. She looked at him, her voice breaking. “All my life, I’ve listened to your stories, Papa. Stories of what you could have been if only you had taken advantage of certain opportunities. I don’t want to live like that. Don’t you see? This is what you prayed for. Why would you stop me?”

Papa’s jaw tightened, his eyes glistening though he quickly turned his face away. “You are my child, Omotara. My only daughter.

You will stay. You will marry the Chief. And that is final.”

The silence that followed was unbearable. Her siblings’ faces fell, her mother’s lips trembled as though she wished to speak but dared not. Tara stood frozen, the certificate hanging limply in her hand.

Her heart cracked. It felt as though the walls of their tiny home were closing in, crushing her dreams before they had even begun.

She wanted to scream, to run, to fight, but instead she turned, walking slowly to the corner of the room.

She pressed the certificate against her chest, tears streaming silently down her face. Her father’s words echoed in her mind like a curse.

“You will not go.”

As the house settled into uneasy quiet, Tara lay awake long into the night. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the hall erupting in applause, heard the judges’ voices declaring her name, felt the weight of the trophy in her hands. And then… Papa’s voice, heavy as chains, dragging her down.

A storm brewed in her chest, a mix of rage, sorrow, and determination. She whispered into the darkness, her words trembling but fierce. “There is only one way out of this misery.”

The wind outside howled against the fragile windows, as though echoing her vow. Tara’s fingers curled tightly around the certificate, the paper crumpling under the force of her grip. Sleep would not come; her father’s decree pressed down on her like a suffocating weight.

She rose quietly, her movements careful not to wake her siblings. Stepping outside into the night, the cool breeze brushed her damp cheeks. She lifted her eyes to the stars, so far, so unreachable, yet tonight, they felt like a map, daring her to follow.

In that stillness, a dangerous thought anchored itself in her heart. If Papa would not let her go, then perhaps… she would have to go without his blessing.

Her breath caught at the enormity of it. To defy him was unthinkable. To stay was unbearable.