BEHIND THE DOOR

Chapter 1: The New Beginning (Normal)Amara could not stop smiling.After four months of running from one agent to another, after all the "agent fees" and "inspection fees" that led to nothing, she finally had keys in her hand. A real self-contain. In Upper Sakponba. And the rent was something she could actually afford."God did this one," she whispered to herself as the keke dropped her in front of the compound. The house was painted yellow and brown. The gate was iron, a bit rusty, but solid. The compound had 4 other flats and a big mango tree in the middle. Children were playing, women were washing, and the air smelled like fried plantain and rain.Pa Monday met her at the gate. He was in his 60s, with a cap, a walking stick, and the kindest eyes Amara had seen from a landlord in a long time."Ah, my daughter," he said, smiling. "You are the one that called me yesterday?""Yes sir. Amara.""Welcome o. This house is quiet. Good people dey here. No noise, no wahala." He unlocked the flat and handed her the key. It was old and heavy. He stood at the doorway for a second. "Just one rule," he added casually, like he was talking about light bill. "Don’t worry about that small inner door inside your bedroom. It has been locked for years. The key is lost. Just face your life."Amara nodded. "No problem, sir. Thank you so much."When Pa Monday left, she stood in the middle of the room and breathed in. The flat was old. The tiles were faded. The paint had patches. But it was clean. It was hers. There was a single room, a kitchenette, a bathroom, and a small veranda. And then, on the wall opposite her bed space, was the door Pa Monday talked about. A small wooden door, painted white. Not a cupboard. Not a toilet. An actual door. With a rusty brass knob, just like the one on the cover of that old novel she used to read. It was about 5ft tall. Too small for a normal adult.Curiosity tugged at her. She walked to it and turned the knob. Locked. Solid. She laughed. "Who locks a door and loses the key for years?" She shrugged and moved on. She had bigger things to do.For the next three hours, Amara was busy. She swept every corner twice. She mopped. She arranged her two Ghana-must-go bags. She hung her clothes on the rope in the bathroom. She placed her small mirror on the wall, and her Bible on the small shelf.By 6pm, she called her mother in Benin-City."Mama, I’ve entered! The house is fine. The landlord is a good man. I’ll send you pictures.""Thank God, my daughter. Be careful. Pray before you sleep.""I will, mama."After the call, she took photos of her new space — the bed, the kitchen, the veranda with the mango tree outside. She posted on w******p with the caption: "New address, new grace. God’s doing. Upper Sakponba 📍"Her friends flooded the status with "Congratulations" and "God is good."Night came fast. There was light. She ate garri and groundnut, said her prayers, and climbed onto her mattress on the floor. The room was quiet. Too quiet. The only sound was crickets outside and, sometimes, the mango leaves brushing the window.Before she slept, her eyes drifted to the small white door. Locked. Harmless. Forgotten for years.She turned to the other side and smiled. "New house. New beginning."And just like that, Amara slept peacefully. Everything was normal.