BACK AT THE MEETING
The conference room buzzed with the low hum of fluorescent lights overhead, over the ceramic table. Papers rustled softly as the team shifted in their ergonomic chairs, the scent of fresh coffee and faint printer ink in the air. The young man at the head of the table adjusted his tie, his voice cutting through the murmurs like a knife.
"We have a new Director for the R&D Department. He's still on holiday but will resume next week. He and his team will work closely with you."
Tandi, the Head of the R&D team, nodded slowly, his salt-and-pepper beard twitching with the motion. Tonna leaned back, crossing his arms over his crisp white shirt, eyes scanning the room with quiet authority.
The young man continued, speaking to Tonna while pointing toward a group huddled at the far end.
"These are the six sir?"
Tonna's gaze shifted to them—a cluster of fresh faces, three men and three women, all in their mid-twenties, dressed in sharp business casuals reflecting their ambitions. Their eyes sparkled with barely contained excitement, small smiles playing on their lips like they were kids about to unwrap a gift.
One of the women fidgeted with her necklace, her fingers twisting the chain nervously, while a man in a striped tie tapped his pen against the table in rhythmic impatience. Tonna couldn't help but smile back, a warm, encouraging curve to his mouth that eased the tension just a fraction.
"You six will be moved to the main branch, where you will work alongside my team for the next eight weeks. You will get to properly introduce yourselves. Until then, please keep up the good work."
"Yessir!"
Their response came in perfect unison, voices echoing off the glass walls like a well-rehearsed choir. The energy in the room spiked, a visible wave of enthusiasm that made the air feel electric. Kyle, standing nearby with a stack of folders under his arm, stepped forward.
He took the folders from Dammy's hands, her slim fingers brushing his briefly in the exchange, and strode to the front of the room. She was the secretary to Tandi. She was a petite figure wearing huge glasses that swallowed most of her small face. With a flick of a switch, the projector hummed to life, its beam cutting through the dimmed lights to splash a bright square on the wall. Everyone turned in their seats, chairs creaking, and their faces illuminated by the glow.
"Hello, good afternoon, everyone. My name is Kyle. As many of you may not know, I am one of Mr. Ziko's PAs. This meeting is to briefly explain why you six were chosen to be seated here today. First of all, you will notice that a piece of paper is sitting right in front of you. It is an NDA. Please have a quick read through it and sign. If you are not comfortable with the terms, you can get up and leave. Miss Amy?"
He glanced over at Amy, who rose smoothly from her seat, her heels clicking softly on the tiled floor. She stood at attention, her posture straight as a rod, exuding the kind of quiet efficiency that made her indispensable. Her dark braids were pulled back in a neat bun, and her eyes scanned the room with a professional detachment.
"Miss Amy here is another PA of Mr. Ziko; she will be collecting your NDAs should you choose to sign them."
She offered them a slight nod and a polite smile, her lips curving just enough to be welcoming without overdoing it.
The six recruits leaned forward, flipping through the documents, their brows furrowing in concentration. Whispers floated between them—questions about clauses, and debates over implications—while the clock on the wall ticked steadily, marking the minutes.
"I'll give you the next few minutes to read through and make your decision before we begin," Kyle said, his tone steady and reassuring.
The room fell into a focused hush, broken only by the scratch of pens on paper and the occasional sigh. One of the men adjusted his glasses, squinting at the fine print, while a woman bit her lip, her excitement now laced with a hint of wariness. Minutes stretched, feeling longer until one by one, they signed. Amy moved efficiently around the table, collecting the papers with graceful nods, sliding them into a sleek black folder that she clutched like a shield.
"Great, since you all have no problems, I'll carry on." Kyle smiled, a genuine flash of teeth that lightened the atmosphere, and dove into his presentation.
The projector clicked through slides, graphs and bullet points dancing across the screen, as he outlined the projects ahead—the innovative challenges, the collaborative opportunities, and the chance to shape the company's future. The six listened intently, nodding along, their earlier excitement reigniting like embers fanned into flame.
Tonna watched from his seat, his mind already mapping out how these new additions would fit into his team's dynamic, but first, he had to make sure he protected the interest of the company by having them sign that NDA. Nothing that had been discussed in that room was to leave there. These were treacherous times, and it wouldn't hurt to be vigilant. The room was once again alive with the promise of progress.
THE OTHER SIDE
Across town, the air was heavier with the chaos of urban life. The talent agency's waiting room smelled of stale coffee and nervous sweat, the walls lined with faded posters of famous stars—smiling faces dazzling in ambition. Joy's sister, Amara, paced near the entrance, her phone clutched tightly in her hand, heart pounding with a mix of mischief and resolve. The fluorescent bulbs flickered overhead, casting erratic shadows on the scuffed linoleum floor.
"What did mom say?" Joy asked, her eyes wide and pensive, voice barely above a whisper as she glanced toward the audition room door.
Amara paused, forcing a reassuring smile, though her mind raced with the web of lies she was weaving.
"I covered for you. You know Mom would never allow this."
Joy's shoulders sagged in visible relief, her breath escaping in a whoosh. She was dressed in a simple black top and jeans, her natural hair tied back, ready for the spotlight she craved.
"Thank you, sis!"
With that, Joy hurried into the building, disappearing behind a door marked Auditions. Amara watched her go, a sly grin tugging at her lips. She pulled out Joy's phone from her pocket—the one she'd borrowed for this very purpose. Joy was chasing her dream of becoming a singer, auditioning for a talent agency, and their mother, with her ironclad rules, could never know.
Onyinye was buried in work, leaving Amara as the perfect accomplice. But Amara had her own agenda, one that burned hotter than sisterly loyalty. She typed quickly, fingers flying over the screen:
"Bro, can you please come to Stonegate Lane? I am in trouble. Please don't let anyone else know, I beg you."
She sent it to Duru's new number, one she'd sneakily lifted and saved on her own device. Their mother had shipped her off to another city, banning her from contacting anyone after Duru's wedding. But Amara wasn't one to be caged. Joy's call for help had been her ticket back, and so she had staged a discreet return to town without alerting the matriarch.
The phone pinged back almost immediately.
'On my way.'
Amara's smile widened, sharp and satisfied. She slipped inside the building, settling into the waiting area on a worn vinyl chair that creaked under her weight. The room was sparsely populated.
A few hopefuls flipping through magazines, their faces filled with dreams and doubt. Amara hadn't breathed a word to her mother about being back; she moved like a shadow, determined to shatter the barriers erected between her and her brother. Their mother thought she could dictate fates, but Amara knew better—no force could sever blood ties, not forever. She planned to prove it. Minutes ticked by, the air conditioner humming a monotonous tune. Joy's phone rang suddenly, vibrating in Amara's hand, but she ignored it, powering it off with a decisive press.
Outside, footsteps pounded—rushed, frantic—and Duru burst through the door, his face flushed, eyes wild with panic. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his shirt slightly untucked from the haste. Amara spotted him instantly and launched herself forward, wrapping her arms around him in a vice-like hug. The impact caught him off guard; he froze, muscles rigid, before reality sank in. He gently pried her away, holding her at arm's length, his brows knit in confusion.
"What are you doing here?"
Amara pouted, her lower lip jutting out dramatically, eyes glistening with feigned hurt.
"Wow, I haven't seen you for weeks, and this is your hello? Someone might think I am your enemy."
Duru's expression crumbled, guilt washing over him like a tide. He hadn't meant to snap; the worry had clawed at him the whole drive over. Though he couldn't fathom their mother's vendetta against Amara, seeing the family, he'd missed her vibrancy, her spark. But now, she looked diminished—thinner, shadows under her eyes that spoke of unspoken burdens. His voice softened, laced with regret.
"I am sorry, I didn't mean that. Sis, I am so glad to have you here, but—"
He scanned the room frantically, his head whipping side to side, searching for signs of danger. The other in the room glanced up curiously, but he ignored them.
"Where is Joy? She said she was in trouble."
Amara tugged him toward an empty corner, the chairs scraping against the floor as they sat. She nestled close, her hand slipping into his, fingers intertwining with a subtle smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. The proximity felt charged in the space.
"Bro, don't tell Joy, but I sent that message. It's just that I am so scared. I thought if I had sent it in my name, you wouldn't have responded, so I sent it in hers. Joy is currently in that room, practising for her audition. I don't know if you have noticed yet, but she wants to be a singer, and Mom knows nothing about it. She called me over to help cover it all up, but''
She sighed
''Not only was I scared for her safety, I also wanted someone else to know about what she was up to, just in case I wasn't there to help next time. You won't be mad, right?"
She ended sounding dull and heavy, her shoulders slumping, and her face a mask of concern.
Duru turned to her, his hands enveloping hers, warm and steady. The waiting room's chatter faded into the background, their bubble intensifying.
"Thank you for doing this for Joy. To be honest, I had an inkling that Joy wasn't very interested in academic pursuits. She had never really been good at studying. But deceiving Mom like this is not okay. Mom is very smart; she'll eventually find out, and when she finds out that we all knew but kept it from her, she'll definitely make a huge deal out of it, and we know what Mom's like."
His words hung heavy, laced with the storm waiting to blow up in all their face when this comes to light. They knew their mother's temper was a storm that left scars.
Amara leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, eyes locking onto his with feigned urgency.
"No, Bro, we can't let her know. She'd kill us, and I don't mean that figuratively. We all know what her temper is like. Besides, shouldn't we give Joy a chance to do something she genuinely likes and is interested in? This isn't the sixties or seventies. There's something called rights, and Joy is going to be twenty-one in a few days. Shouldn't we give her a chance to make her own choices?"
Duru paused, his thumb absently stroking the back of her hand as he mulled it over. The room's air felt stifling now, the distant sound of a singer warming up filtering through the walls like a taunt. He sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.
"You are right."
He patted her hands gently, a brotherly gesture that grounded them both. Amara's smile returned, small and triumphant, so she shifted the subject.
"So bro, how is married life treating you?"
Her tone sharpened, edged with bitterness that cut through the air like glass. Duru caught it immediately, guilt twisting in his gut like a knife.
"Sis, I—"
He struggled, words failing him under her gaze. How could he explain the chasm their mother had created?
"I am sorry. I tried very hard to make Mom come around, but she stubbornly refused and deleted your number from my phone. She destroyed my old number and even ordered Onyinye and Joy not to share my new number with you. I am sorry that I didn't do much for you."
Amara pulled him into another hug, her hands caressing his back in slow, soothing circles. The embrace lingered, the scent of her perfume—something floral and faint—mingling with the room's musty odour.
It's not your fault. I know you tried to do everything you could, but Mom is just so stubborn."
He pulled back but kept hold of her hand, his grip firm, eyes searching hers.
"But sis, I don't understand. Why is Mom being this way? She has refused to give me an answer, no matter how many times I asked. What exactly happened between you two? And why is Mom trying so hard to cut off any communication between us? Is there something that the rest of us don't know?"
His voice rose slightly, drawing a curious glance from a nearby auditionee. Concern marked deep lines on his face, his free hand clenching into a fist on the armrest. Amara sighed deeply, her chest rising and falling dramatically, building the moment.
"Bro, I myself don't understand Mom. She treats me like I am the arch-enemy of our family. I literally did nothing, and she's been treating me this way. To be honest, I feel like sometimes she's not my mother, be—"
"Come on, don't say that. Of the four of us, Mom dotes on you the most, which is why I am so worried about your current situation"
He interrupted, his tone firm but gentle, refusing to let her spiral.
"You think I don't know that? I miss Mom too and want our relationship to go back to the way it was previously. But she wouldn't budge. I literally have no idea why she's treating me like an outsider. Not only did she send me out of the house and away to another city entirely, but she banned me from seeing you or your wife after your wedding and practically cut off all communications between us."
"Exactly! Mom is not unreasonable. There must be a reason why she is doing this. It just doesn't make sense. I hate not having any communication with you. You are my family, for God's sake!"
Duru's voice cracked, frustration boiling over, his eyes glistening with unshed emotion. He held her gaze, intense and pleading.
"Can you really not think of a reason why Mom is doing this? I am at my wits' end, and I really need to speak with her about her attitude. It's driving me insane! In fact, once Joy is finished, you are going home with me. I am going to confront Mom about this."
His declaration was fierce, jaw set, body leaning forward as if ready to charge into battle. Amara's eyes widened in mock horror, shuffling back in her chair, clutching her bag like a shield.
"No, brother, I am not going with you. If Mom finds out I came to town without her permission, she'll kill me."
She cowered playfully, but her voice trembled with exaggerated fear, bag held up like a barrier.
Duru frowned, desperation creeping into his tone.
"Why would she kill you? This is Mom."
He reached out, trying to lower her defences, but she shook her head vigorously, her curls bouncing.
"Bro, Mom has changed. I didn't want to say anything, but Mom didn't rent a place for me. As a matter of fact, I am currently living under one of her friends' roof. Her husband is always trying to molest me, and the woman always blames me for trying to seduce her husband. Not only that, she wouldn't let me leave the house, and she's always watching me because mom told her to. I only managed to escape because she travelled, but, for some reason, didn't tell Me about it, but instead, left her husband and I alone in that house. There's no way I will live under the same roof as that man, especially when his wife is not around. Besides, I found out that they were about to divorce, and this woman purposely left her husband at home with me alone because she needed an outlet to get and gain his properties."
Her words spilt out in a rush, voice dropping to a whisper that carried dark secrets. The waiting room seemed to close in, the air growing thicker with her revelations. Duru leaned in, his face paling.
"I am sure if you explain this to Mom, she'd understand."
"Bro, no offence, but you have never been able to stand up to Mom. Also, I fear Mom knows about this as well and even agreed to it."
She pulled out her phone, waving it in front of him. The screen lit up, displaying a recording app, the play button taunting him like evidence in a trial. Duru's eyes widened, the implications hitting him like a punch.