episode 3:The First Temptation
773 Words
The township never slept.
Even when the night grew deep, lights still flashed from bars, loud music filled the air, and people moved like shadows with hidden intentions. Elija sat on the cold pavement outside the room he shared with his friend, his back against the wall, his hands folded tightly together.
The words from earlier echoed in his head.
“There are easier ways to make money.”
He tried to shake it off.
“I didn’t come here to do bad things,” he whispered to himself. “I came to hustle.”
But hunger does not listen to promises.
The next morning, Elija woke up early and went out again. He walked from street to street, asking for work. Some people chased him away. Others looked at him like he was invisible. By afternoon, his legs were weak, and his stomach burned with hunger.
At a junction, he saw the same young men from the previous night. They were standing beside a flashy car, laughing loudly.
“Village boy!” one of them called out. “You’re still suffering?”
Elija stopped walking.
“What kind of work do you do?” another asked.
“Anything,” Elija replied. “Clean, carry, wash… anything.”
They laughed.
“You’re wasting your strength,” the first one said. “One night can give you what one month of hard work cannot.”
Elija felt fear and curiosity fight inside him. “What kind of night?”
The man leaned closer. “Online work. Fast money. No stress.”
Elija shook his head quickly. “I don’t know anything about that.”
“You’ll learn,” the man said calmly. “Everybody here did.”
Elija thought of Mirabel. Her voice. Her demands. Christmas.
“I’ll think about it,” he said and walked away.
But his heart did not walk away with him.
That evening, Mirabel called.
“Did you send the money?” she asked without greeting.
“I’m still trying,” Elija said gently.
She sighed loudly. “My friend’s boyfriend just bought her a new phone. I’m tired of explaining excuses.”
“I’m doing my best,” Elija replied, his voice shaking.
“Your best is not enough,” she said coldly. “Sometimes love needs proof.”
The call ended.
Elija sat on the floor and buried his face in his hands. For the first time in his life, tears fell freely.
“God,” he whispered, “I’m tired.”
Two days later, Elija met the men again.
This time, he did not walk away.
They took him to a small room filled with laptops and phones. The air smelled of sweat and ambition.
“Just follow instructions,” one said. “You won’t steal from poor people.”
Elija hesitated. “Is it safe?”
“Nothing is safe,” the man replied. “But poverty is more dangerous.”
Elija closed his eyes and nodded.
That night, he made his first dirty money.
When the alert dropped on his phone, his hands shook. It was more money than he had ever held before. His heart pounded—not with joy, but with fear.
He sent Mirabel part of it immediately.
Her reply came fast.
“Wow 😍 thank you, baby.”
For the first time in weeks, Elija smiled.
But that smile did not last long.
Later that night, alone in the room, Elija stared at his hands.
“They don’t look dirty,” he whispered. “But my heart feels heavy.”
Back in Oduke Village, Mirabel felt different.
Money had entered the relationship, and with it came pride. She bought new clothes, fixed her hair, and posted pictures online. Likes and comments poured in.
“You’re glowing,” friends said.
Mirabel smiled. “Love is sweet.”
But Nora watched quietly.
“That money,” Nora said one evening, “are you sure it’s clean?”
Mirabel frowned. “Why are you always negative?”
“I’m just worried,” Nora replied. “Pressure can destroy a good man.”
Mirabel scoffed. “If he loves me, he will survive.”
In the township, Elija’s life slowly changed.
He stopped looking for honest jobs. Nights became longer. Sleep became shorter. Fear lived with him like a roommate.
Each time Mirabel asked for more, he gave. Each time he gave, he felt less human.
One night, as December decorations began to appear in the city—lights, banners, fake snow—Elija looked at them and felt something break inside him.
Christmas was coming.
And he was already lost.
To be continued…
- Writer
