ANOTHER SURPRISE

The Momoh Farms estate sprawled across the fertile lands of Ebonyi a neighboring state to Enugu where their residential estate is, a patchwork of lush green rice paddies, tall sugarcane fields swaying in the breeze, and pastures dotted with grazing livestock. It wasn’t just a farm; it was an empire. The company produced everything from raw agricultural goods to finished products—parboiled rice that gleamed like polished pearls, sugar so fine it felt like silk between fingers, groundnut, cocoa, pond fish, livestock and dairy products that graced tables across the nation. Christine’s favorite had always been their creamy kunu, a drink made from millet grown in the farm her father jokingly called “the elixir of the gods.”

The estate’s main building was a testament to their success. The expansive office space buzzed with activity, employees clad in uniforms branded with the Momoh logo moving with purpose. Large silos stood at attention near the processing plants, where the rhythmic hum of machines transformed raw harvests into polished goods. To the world, the Momoh's were visionaries; to Christine, it was a gilded cage.

Two days after receiving the life-altering fax, Christine sat in her room, still seething. She’d barely left her sanctuary, and the tension inside her chest refused to ease. But tonight, the house hummed with a different kind of energy. Her parents were finally coming home.

When the sound of a car pulling into the driveway reached her ears, Christine’s stomach tightened. She didn’t rush downstairs like she might have years ago. Instead, she listened as the front door opened and closed, followed by the familiar voices of her parents filling the air.

Her mother, Amaka, was the first to appear. She walked into the living room, her caramel skin glowing under the chandelier lights. Almond-shaped eyes surveyed the space as she adjusted the strap of her leather handbag. Her straight, long nose led to full lips that often curved into a commanding smile, though tonight, they were pressed in a determined line. Dressed in a tailored Ankara gown that flattered her pear-shaped figure, she exuded authority.

Behind her came her father, Adewale. He had a round head crowned with sparse, graying hair, a mustache, and a goatee stubble framing his kind yet weary face. His rectangular frame carried a slight protrusion in his belly, a testament to years of hearty meals and late-night work. Despite the long journey, his warm brown eyes sparkled with the energy of a man who thrived on challenges.

Christine descended the staircase slowly, her heart thudding. Her mother spotted her first.

“There she is,” Amaka said, her tone brisk. “Christine, we need to talk.”

“I think we’ve already talked,” Christine replied, holding her ground. “Or rather, you’ve decided.”

Adewale stepped forward, raising a placating hand. “Christine, this isn’t easy for any of us. But we truly believe this is the best opportunity for you.”

“Best opportunity?” Christine’s voice cracked with disbelief. “You’re uprooting my entire life without even asking how I feel about it. How is that fair?”

Amaka’s eyes narrowed. “Fair? Christine, do you know how many sacrifices we’ve made for this family? Do you know the Okoyas?”

Christine blinked, caught off guard. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“The Okoyas send their children abroad before they even turn nine. Nine!” Amaka’s voice sharpened with conviction. “Do you think it’s because they understand the value of global exposure or because they are trying to lay off the burden of parenting as soon as possible? And here your seventeen-year-old self is whining about spending a year out of Nigeria like Kenya is that different, Christine. It’s time you grow up emotionally.”

“I don’t care about the Okoyas!” Christine’s voice rose. “This isn’t about them. This is about me and everything I’ve worked for here.”

“Ungrateful,” Amaka muttered, shaking her head. “You think we’re doing this to punish you? Everything we do is for you.”

Christine’s fists clenched at her sides. “You’re not listening. I’ve built my life here. My friends, my school, my future—you’re taking it all away.”

Adewale sighed deeply, stepping between his wife and daughter. “Christine, please. Let’s not make this harder than it needs to be. You’re strong, and you’ll thrive in Kenya. We know you will.”

But Christine wasn’t convinced. She turned on her heel and stormed back upstairs, leaving her parents in the tense silence that followed.

---

Earlier that evening, Christine had tried to distract herself by attending the Senior Send-Off event at St. Pius International School. It was the kind of lavish gathering only the children of the elite could pull off. The school’s grand auditorium had been transformed into a sparkling wonderland, with crystal chandeliers casting warm light over round tables draped in gold and white.

The aroma of gourmet dishes filled the air, mingling with laughter and the soft hum of live jazz music. Christine wore a sleek emerald-green gown, her curls pinned elegantly to one side. She moved through the crowd with practiced grace, exchanging pleasantries with classmates and teachers.

It should have been a night to celebrate, but Christine’s mind was elsewhere. That is, until Jide appeared.

Jide, the son of a Lagos car dealership mogul, had always been a fixture in Christine’s social circle. With his charming smile and easy confidence, he was the kind of guy who turned heads without trying. Tonight, he wore a sharp navy suit that complemented his polished demeanor.

“Christine,” he called, weaving through the crowd with Adeze by his side. Christine’s best friend wore a mischievous grin that immediately put her on edge.

“What’s going on?” Christine asked, eyeing them suspiciously.

Before she could get an answer, the lights dimmed, and the music softened. Jide stepped forward, clearing his throat. The room quieted as all eyes turned to them.

“Christine,” he began, his voice steady. “You’re one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met. Smart, driven, beautiful… and tonight, I want to ask you something important.”

Christine’s heart sank. “Jide, no…” she whispered, but he continued, undeterred.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” he asked, pulling out a small velvet box. Inside was a delicate bracelet, its diamonds catching the light.

The crowd erupted in cheers and applause. Adeze nudged Christine with a conspiratorial wink, clearly having been part of the plan.

Christine’s face burned with embarrassment. She forced a tight smile and stepped closer to Jide, lowering her voice so only he could hear.

“This isn’t the time or place for this.”