Rich Girl, Rough Boy

Rich Girl, Rough Boy. 6

The Night Walk

PART 6

Tani's feet hit the ground hard.

She was free. Outside the gate. On the street.

For a moment, she just stood there, breathing. The night air of Victoria Island was clean and cool. The street was quiet. Expensive cars parked behind high walls. Security lights glowing everywhere.

Then she started walking.

No phone. No money. No shoes.

Just a torn designer dress and a heart full of fire.

---

The first part of the journey was easy.

Victoria Island at night was peaceful. Safe. The kind of place where rich people jogged at dawn and walked their dogs at dusk. Tani knew these streets. She had driven them a thousand times.

But she had never walked them.

The pavement felt rough under her bare feet. Small stones bit into her skin. She walked faster, ignoring the pain.

She needed to get to the mainland. To the police station. To him.

---

The bridge appeared suddenly.

Third Mainland Bridge. Empty at this hour. No traffic. No noise. Just the long stretch of concrete disappearing into darkness, with the lagoon glittering black on both sides.

Tani stopped at the edge.

This was where she first saw him. Where their eyes met. Where everything began.

Now she was crossing it alone, walking toward his world, praying she wasn't too late.

She walked.

The bridge was longer on foot. Much longer. Cars had always made it feel short. But walking, it stretched forever. The wind from the lagoon was cold. Her torn dress offered no warmth. Her feet were bleeding now, leaving small marks on the concrete.

But she didn't stop.

Emeka. I'm coming. Hold on.

---

She reached the mainland side after an hour.

Everything changed immediately.

The streets were narrower. Darker. The streetlights were fewer, and some were broken. Shops were closed with metal shutters pulled down. Men sat in shadows, watching her pass. Their eyes followed her.

Tani's heart pounded.

She kept walking. Kept her head down. Kept moving toward Ajegunle, toward his neighborhood, toward the police station she had seen on maps but never visited.

"Oya, fine girl! Where you dey go at this hour?"

A man's voice. Drunk. Close.

Tani walked faster.

"Hey! I dey talk to you!" Footsteps behind her.

She broke into a run. Her bleeding feet screamed. Her lungs burned. She ran down a dark street, turned a corner, kept running.

The footsteps faded. She had lost him.

She leaned against a wall, gasping, tears streaming down her face.

God, please help me. Please.

---

She walked for another hour.

The neighborhoods got rougher. The people got fewer. The darkness got deeper.

Then she walked into the wrong street.

Three young men were standing under a broken streetlight. They saw her immediately. Their conversation stopped. All eyes turned to her.

Tani's blood turned to ice.

She turned to go back the way she came. Too late. They were already moving, spreading out, blocking both ends of the street.

"Ah ah, where you dey go?" The tallest one grinned. He was missing teeth. His eyes were not friendly. "Fine fine girl like you, walking alone at night? No be safe oh."

"Please," Tani whispered. "I just want to pass."

"Pass go where? Your boyfriend dey wait?" He walked closer. His friends laughed. "Abi you be ashawo? How much?"

"I'm not—please, I have no money. I just need to get to the police station."

"Police station?" The men laughed harder. "At this hour? You think we be fools? You dey go report us?"

"No! I swear! Please, let me go. Someone I love is in trouble. I have to help him."

The man's face changed. The laughter stopped. He looked at her torn dress. Her bleeding feet. Her desperate eyes.

"Someone you love?" he asked quietly.

"Yes. Please."

He studied her for a long moment. Then he stepped aside.

"Go. Fast. Before I change my mind."

Tani didn't wait. She ran.

Behind her, she heard one of his friends protest. "Why you let her go? She fine like mad!"

The leader's voice followed her into the darkness: "Because the girl get love for her eyes. Love wey nobody here ever get. Make she go find am."

Tani ran until her legs gave out.

---

She collapsed near a small market that was just waking up.

Dawn was breaking. Women were setting up their stalls. The smell of frying akara filled the air. Normal life was beginning.

Tani sat on the ground, her body shaking, her feet raw and bleeding, her dress in shreds.

An old woman selling tomatoes saw her. She walked over slowly, her eyes full of concern.

"My daughter, what happened to you?"

Tani looked up. The woman's face was kind. Like Mama Bose. Like someone's mother.

"I need to get to the police station," Tani whispered. "Please. They took someone I love."

The woman didn't ask questions. She helped Tani stand, led her to a bench, and gave her a cup of water.

"Drink first. Then we talk."

Tani drank. The water was warm and sweet. The best thing she had ever tasted.

"Where you come from?" the woman asked.

"Victoria Island."

The woman's eyes went wide. "Victoria Island? You walk from there? Barefoot? At night?"

Tani nodded.

The woman looked at her for a long time. Then she reached into her bag and pulled out a pair of old rubber slippers.

"Wear these. They not fine, but they go protect your feet." She pressed some money into Tani's hand. "Take this. For bus. The police station far from here."

"I can't take your money—"

"You can and you will." The woman's voice was firm. "My daughter, I don't know your story. But any girl wey walk through Lagos night to save someone she love... she deserve help. Now go. And God go with you."

Tani cried. She couldn't help it. The kindness of a stranger broke something inside her.

"Thank you," she sobbed. "Thank you, Mama."

The woman smiled. "Go now. Your person dey wait."

---

Tani took a bus.

The old danfo was packed with people going to work. They stared at her torn dress and bleeding feet. Some whispered. Some looked away. But no one asked questions. Lagos people had seen everything.

She got off near the police station and ran the rest of the way.

The station was dirty. Crowded. Men in handcuffs sat on benches. Women cried in corners. Police officers walked around looking bored and tired.

Tani ran to the counter.

"Please! I'm looking for someone! Emeka Okonkwo! He was brought here last night!"

The officer behind the counter looked at her. At her torn designer dress. Her bare feet in rubber slippers. Her wild eyes.

"You family?"

"I'm his... I'm his friend. Please, I need to see him."

The officer laughed. "Friend? You no be family? You no get money? Then you can't see him. Move."

Tani's heart dropped. "Please—"

"Move, I said! Next!"

A hand pushed her aside. She stumbled, almost fell. No one helped her up.

She stood outside the station, tears streaming down her face. She had come so far. Walked through the night. Survived danger. And now they wouldn't even let her see him.

A woman touched her arm.

"You dey find Emeka?"

Tani turned. A young woman stood there. Maybe thirty. Dressed simply. Kind eyes.

"Yes. Do you know him?"

"I be lawyer. I dey work with human rights group. We hear about Emeka's case this morning. The story don start to spread. People dey talk." She smiled. "Come. I go help you."

Tani followed her inside.

---

Twenty minutes later, Tani sat in a small office, facing an officer who suddenly looked very nervous.

The lawyer, Barrister Amara, had made some calls. Used some words. Mentioned some names. Suddenly, doors opened.

"Emeka Okonkwo was transferred this morning," the officer said, sweating. "To Kirikiri Prison. On orders from above."

Tani's world stopped.

Kirikiri. The biggest prison in Lagos. Where people disappeared for years.

"No," she whispered. "No, please—"

"We need to move fast," Barrister Amara said calmly. "Before they bury him inside. Tani, do you have anyone who can help? Anyone with influence? A father? A friend?"

Tani thought of her father. Who had locked her in her room. Who had chosen money over her.

Then she thought of Funmi. The journalist who had offered help.

"I know someone," she said. "A reporter. She wanted to write the story."

Barrister Amara smiled. "Good. Let's go. We don't have much time."

---

They found Funmi in a small newsroom, working late.

When she heard the story—all of it, from the beginning—her eyes lit up.

"This is huge," she breathed. "This is everything. Rich girl walks through Lagos night to save poor boy framed by senator's son? This story will break the internet."

"I don't care about the story," Tani said desperately. "I care about Emeka. They took him to Kirikiri. He's going to disappear."

Funmi nodded. "Then we move fast. I publish tonight. We go viral by morning. Public pressure will force them to act." She looked at Tani. "But you have to be in it. Your face. Your name. Your story. Are you ready for that? Your family will never forgive you."

Tani thought of her mother. Her father. The mansion. The money. The life she was supposed to have.

Then she thought of Emeka. His smile. His hands. His voice saying, "You looked at me like I be person."

"I don't care," she said. "Do it."

---

Funmi worked through the night.

She wrote. She called contacts. She found photos—of Emeka's tiny room, his engineering books, his mother's grave. She found the market woman who helped Tani. She found the man who let her go in the dark street.

By morning, the story was ready.

"Rich Girl's Fiancé Frames Innocent Boy Who Saved Her: The True Story of Tani and Emeka"

Funmi looked at Tani. "Ready?"

Tani nodded.

Funmi pressed publish.

---

The phone started ringing immediately.

Within an hour, the story had been shared ten thousand times.

Within three hours, it was trending.

Within six hours, cameras were outside the police station, outside the Senator's house, outside Tani's mansion.

The hashtag #JusticeForEmeka was born.

And somewhere in Kirikiri Prison, in a cell with no windows, Emeka Okonkwo heard the guards whispering.

"Omo, this boy wey dey here... e don trend. The whole world dey talk about am."

Emeka closed his eyes and smiled.

Tani, he thought. You came for me.

To Be Continued...