Daggers of Love

Before betrayal and bloodshed, there

ted a high school experience that felt a little different. I couldn't say exactly what I was hoping for, but what

in academic competitions and usually returned with trophies and medals. Many students admired me, though not everyone did. Some co

k approachable, even cute, as the girls would often say. I was friendly

liked the company. I didn't care what their boyfriends or admirers thought. One of the a

breakthrough that

cholarship-a full scholarship-to Berrocks University, one of the most elite institutions in the countr

dad just sat in silence for a while, then stood up and hugged me so tight I could barely breathe. They told every

the children of senators and CEOs. And here I was, a boy from a modest home in Lagos,

o make sure I was ready. My father even picked up extra shifts, working

rship would cover my needs. But my

ed but firm. "You're about to step into the real world. It's nothin

ng physically lost. He meant

t time, I truly understood

never got to become the surgeon he dreamed of being. My father, too, with his excep

to follow

be the one who wou

e down for a heart-to-heart con

ently from us. Don't forget who you are. Don't try to fit in so badly that you lose

fore he passed. You know how life can turn. I wasn't always a bus driver, son. I had dr

n embarrass you. But never forget where you come from. Be proud of your roots. Don't

Mom. Thank you, Dad. I'll never let you down. I'll always

nd said, "I know, son.

bus, and I stood for a long moment just staring at

n only one side of life until now. I could

t forgotten anything. The moment had finally come-time to leave home. My dad climbed into th

ding back tears, her face sayin

me," I said, pulling her into a

her tears. "I know, I know..

id, "If you keep this up, I'll end up cryi

r eyes. "I'm going to

holding her close for one last mo

hispering, "M

or behind me. Dad drove off, the house growing smal