Mary sat on the worn sofa in their small Lagos apartment, her eyes fixed on her mother, Mama Mary. The room smelled faintly of jollof rice from dinner, but Mary barely noticed. Mama Mary was folding her colorful Ankara wrapper with her usual precision, and Mary knew that when her mother was calm like this, it meant serious talk was coming.
"Mary," Mama Mary said, her voice smooth but firm, "you must learn to see opportunity when it comes. Money doesn't just fall from the sky. You must find clever ways to get what you need."
Mary frowned, twisting her fingers together. "Mother… I don't know if that's right."
Mama Mary smiled softly, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Life is not always about what's right, my dear. It's about being smart. One day, you'll thank me for this."
Mary felt a flutter of unease. She knew her mother wasn't asking her to steal or lie. But she was encouraging her to take advantage of situations to get ahead. It felt wrong, yet Mama Mary's eyes, full of warmth and cunning, made it seem like wisdom.
Later that night, as the hum of Lagos traffic drifted through the open window, Mary lay awake. Mama Mary's words echoed in her mind. Could she follow her mother's advice and still be herself? Could she take this path without losing who she truly was?
The next day, visitors came—men Mama Mary had told her to meet. Each interaction would test her courage, her cleverness, and her sense of morality. Mary didn't know it yet, but this was the first step on a journey that would change her life forever.
She took a deep breath, sat up, and whispered to herself: "I will find my way… my way, not just hers."