The road stretched endlessly before Uduakabasi, covered in red dust and dry leaves. He had walked for two days without food, his throat dry, his feet blistered, yet he refused to stop. His heart whispered the same words over and over — "Keep going."
By the third day, he arrived at the city of Uyo. The noise, the honking of cars, and the crowd of strangers overwhelmed him. He had never seen so many people in one place. Hungry and exhausted, he found a corner beside a market stall and sat quietly, his stomach rumbling like thunder.
As evening fell, he tried to find a place to sleep. The market women had packed up their goods, the traders had gone home, and the streets were growing dark. He found shelter under a wooden shed, curled up with his mother's scarf, and closed his eyes. The ground was cold, but his dreams were warm — he saw his mother smiling, telling him,
> "Don't give up, my son. God never abandons the pure in heart."
When he woke up, it was morning. The noise of the market had returned. His stomach ached, but he stood up and decided to search for work. He walked from shop to shop, house to house, asking humbly,
> "Please, sir, do you need someone to work? I can clean, fetch water, or wash plates."
Most people ignored him. Some laughed.
> "Go back to your village, boy," one man said.
"We don't have food to feed another mouth," another woman replied.
Still, Uduakabasi didn't give up.
That evening, as he walked along a busy street, he saw a man standing outside a large compound, reading a newspaper. The gate behind him was tall and painted white. Uduakabasi gathered courage and said,
> "Good evening, sir. Please, do you need a house boy? I can work hard."
The man looked up from his paper and studied him from head to toe. His clothes were torn, his face thin, but there was something in the boy's eyes — honesty.
> "What's your name?" the man asked.
"Uduakabasi, sir," he replied.
"Hmm… You look too young. Can you cook?"
"Yes, sir. I can learn quickly."
The man thought for a moment, then nodded.
> "Come back on Monday morning. My name is Mr. Francis. You'll start work here."
Uduakabasi's face lit up. He bowed slightly and said,
> "Thank you, sir. God bless you."
That night, he slept under the same shed, but this time, hope warmed his heart.
Monday came faster than he expected. He bathed at a public tap, washed his clothes, and went straight to Francis's house. Francis lived with his wife, Angela, a beautiful but proud woman who often frowned at the workers.
The first time she saw Uduakabasi, she wrinkled her nose and said,
> "Francis, where did you find this one? He looks like a village boy."
"He's just a helper, Angela. Give him a chance," Francis replied calmly.
Days turned into weeks, and Uduakabasi worked tirelessly — cleaning, washing, sweeping, and running errands without complaint. Francis began to like him, often saying,
> "That boy is rare. He works with his heart."
But Angela saw something else. She noticed his growing strength, his calm nature, and the innocent charm in his eyes. A desire she could not control began to burn inside her.
At first, she tried to hide it. She complimented him unnecessarily. She called him closer to hand her things she could have reached herself. One afternoon, she smiled at him and said,
> "You're quite handsome for a house boy."
Uduakabasi bowed his head quickly, embarrassed.
> "Thank you, madam."
But Angela wasn't done.
When Francis traveled to Lagos for a week on business, she finally made her move.
Three days after he left, Angela called from her bedroom, her voice soft and tempting.
> "Uduakabasi… come upstairs."
He rushed up, thinking she needed help. But when he entered, his heart almost stopped — she stood before him wearing only a towel, her perfume heavy in the air.
> "Madam, you called me?" he stammered.
"Yes," she whispered, stepping closer. "I want you to do something for me. Something special."
Uduak's eyes widened.
> "Madam, please… I can't."
"You will," she hissed. "Or I'll tell my husband you tried to touch me."
His heart pounded. But the boy who had faced hunger and beatings had grown strong in spirit. He looked at her firmly and said,
> "I fear God. I will not do such a thing. Even if you send me away, I will not sin."
Angela's face twisted with anger.
> "You'll regret this," she spat.
And she made sure he did.
When Francis returned, Angela ran into his arms crying.
> "That boy you brought into our home — he tried to rape me!"
Francis's eyes burned with fury.
He didn't wait for an explanation. He called Uduakabasi and shouted,
> "Get out of my house, you filthy liar! I trusted you!"
Uduak fell to his knees, begging,
> "Sir, I swear I'm innocent. I would never—"
"Leave before I call the police!"
With tears streaming down his face, Uduak picked up his small bag and walked out.
He wandered the streets again, feeling lost and broken. But destiny, once again, had other plans.
As he walked past a bus stop, he saw a woman rushing toward a taxi. Her handbag fell without her noticing. Uduak quickly picked it up and ran after her.
> "Madam! Your purse!" he called out.
The woman turned, surprised. She checked her bag and saw everything still intact.
> "You're a good boy," she said kindly. "Most people would have run away with it."
She reached into her purse and offered him twenty thousand naira.
> "Take this, for your honesty."
But Uduak shook his head.
> "No, ma. I don't need money. I just need a job."
The woman paused, impressed by his humility.
> "What's your name?"
"Uduakabasi, ma."
"Alright, Uduakabasi. My name is Mrs. Peace. Come with me. I think God sent you to me."
And just like that, his life took another turn — one that would lead him toward hope, love, and destiny.