Twenty four hours
CHAPTER ONE
TWENTY-FOUR HOURS
The knock on my door sounded like a warning.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
“Madam Ada! Open this door!”
I froze.
Grace stopped drawing.
“Mummy?”
I quickly put a finger to my lips.
“Stay quiet, baby.”
Another bang shook the wooden door.
“You think I don't know you're inside?” the landlord shouted. “Four months' rent! ₦190,000! Today is the last day!”
My heart pounded.
I looked at the small table beside me.
My entire fortune sat there.
₦5,000.
And one pack of Indomie.
That was all I had.
Grace's school fees were due the following week. The money I had been expecting hadn't come. My cleaning jobs barely paid enough to keep food on the table.
And now we were about to lose our home.
I looked around our one-room apartment in Mile One.
One mattress.
One old refrigerator.
One small pot.
A few clothes hanging from a nail in the wall.
It wasn't much, but it was home.
“Please,” I whispered toward the door. “Give me one more week.”
There was silence.
Then the landlord spoke.
“Tomorrow, I'm changing the lock.”
Footsteps moved away.
I didn't breathe until I heard the gate close.
Then my knees gave out.
I sat on the floor.
Grace immediately ran into my arms.
“Mummy, don't cry.”
“I’m not crying.”
“You are.”
I wiped my face quickly.
She touched my cheek.
“Jesus will provide.”
I stared at my five-year-old daughter.
She was still wearing her old school dress. Her hair was packed into two small buns, and there was pencil dust on her fingers.
She was supposed to be worried about cartoons and sweets.
Instead, she was comforting her mother.
I hugged her tightly.
“I'll figure something out.”
My phone vibrated.
Unknown Number.
I opened the message.
“This is from Mr. Chike Okoro's office. We will be inspecting the properties on your street tomorrow at 10:00 AM. Please ensure you are available.”
My stomach tightened.
Chike Okoro.
Even I knew that name.
Billionaire.
Real-estate tycoon.
Ruthless businessman.
People said he had been buying properties all over the area for months.
Rumor had it that he planned to demolish the entire block and build a shopping complex.
And now he was coming here.
To my street.
To my home.
“Mummy?”
I looked at Grace.
“I’m hungry.”
I forced a smile.
“Let me make your noodles.”
I stood up and walked toward the cupboard.
Then I heard it.
An engine.
Not an ordinary car engine.
Something powerful.
I moved toward the window and slowly pulled the curtain aside.
Three black SUVs had stopped outside our compound.
Men in dark suits stepped out.
My stomach twisted.
One of them looked toward our building.
“That’s the last property, sir.”
Another car door opened.
A man stepped out.
Tall.
Broad shoulders.
Black suit.
His face was hard and unreadable.
I knew immediately who he was.
Chike Okoro.
He looked around the street as if he already owned everything he could see.
One of his men pointed toward our apartment.
“That one too, sir. The tenant hasn't moved out.”
Chike glanced at his phone.
“Give her twenty-four hours.”
My heart dropped.
Twenty-four hours?
His eyes suddenly lifted.
Straight toward my window.
I quickly released the curtain.
Too late.
He had seen me.
A few seconds later, someone knocked on our door.
“Madam Ada!”
Grace grabbed my hand.
“Mummy…”
“Stay behind me.”
I opened the door.
Chike stood outside.
Up close, he was even more intimidating.
His eyes moved over me, then to Grace standing behind my legs.
“So you're Ada Okafor.”
I swallowed.
“Yes, sir.”
“You're occupying this property.”
“Yes.”
“You owe four months' rent.”
I lowered my eyes.
“I know.”
“You have twenty-four hours to leave.”
My chest tightened.
“Sir, please.”
“I don't negotiate about property.”
“My daughter has school. I don't have anywhere to go.”
His expression didn't change.
“That isn't my problem.”
Grace moved closer to me.
I held her hand.
“Please,” I said again. “Just give me one week.”
“Twenty-four hours.”
He turned around.
Then Grace sneezed.
Chike stopped.
He looked back.
His eyes fell on her bare feet.
Then on the worn-out sandals beside the door.
For a brief moment, something flickered across his face.
It disappeared almost immediately.
He turned to one of his men.
“Make sure her belongings aren't damaged.”
Then he walked away.
I stared after him.
That was the closest thing to kindness I had heard from him.
But it didn't change anything.
We still had twenty-four hours.
That evening, Grace ate the last of the noodles while I sat beside her, pretending I wasn't worried.
After she fell asleep, I counted my money again.
₦5,000.
I laughed bitterly.
What was I supposed to do with ₦5,000?
Rent a new apartment?
Pay school fees?
Feed my child?
My phone vibrated.
Another message.
This time, it wasn't from the landlord.
It was from Chike Okoro's office.
I opened it.
“Mr. Okoro wants to see you tomorrow at 8:00 AM. Come alone. There is an alternative arrangement concerning your tenancy.”
I read it twice.
Alternative arrangement?
What did that mean?
I looked at my sleeping daughter.
Then at the message.
I didn't trust Chike Okoro.
But I had no choice.
If I didn't go, Grace and I could be homeless by tomorrow night.
I typed one word.
“Okay.”
I pressed send.
I had no idea that one word would change my life.
And I certainly didn't know that the man who was about to take my home...
would soon make me an offer I couldn't afford to refuse.
