THE STRUGGLE OF A MAN

THE STRANGER AT THE JUNCTION

Episode 3: The Stranger at the Junction

“You dey find job?” the man asked again, offering Zayyanu a sachet of water.

Zayyanu nodded cautiously. “Yes, anything at all.”

The man sat beside him under the mango tree, dusting his trousers. He looked to be in his late 30s — rough jeans, worn-out sandals, but a kind face.

“My name na Musa,” he said. “I dey supply bread to shops around here. E no be big job, but e dey feed man.”

Zayyanu blinked. “Bread supply?”

Musa laughed. “No be government work oh. Na hustle. But na honest work.”

For a moment, Zayyanu hesitated. His pride rose. He was a graduate, a man who once dreamed of offices and neckties. But hunger had no respect for degrees.

“I fit follow you try,” Zayyanu replied.

That afternoon, he followed Musa. They pushed a wooden cart loaded with loaves of bread. Street to street. Shop to shop. Sweat soaked his shirt. Some people mocked him — “Graduate dey push bread?” — but others smiled, even encouraged him.

Musa didn’t say much, but every now and then, he would look at Zayyanu and nod. “You get strong mind. I like am.”

As the sun began to set, Musa handed him ₦800. “Your share for today. No be plenty, but e better pass empty stomach.”

Zayyanu stared at the money. It wasn’t about the amount — it was what it meant.

> For the first time in months, he had earned something with his hands.

That night, back home, he bought a small portion of rice, pure water, and akara for Faruk.

They ate. No words. Just grateful silence.

And in Zayyanu’s heart, a new voice whispered:

“You’re still a man. And you’re not done yet."