There were days Zina felt like she was learning more outside the classroom than within. School wasn't just about grades — it was survival, especially when her account balance dropped to zero and hunger became a lecture all on its own.
One evening, she stood quietly in the corridor of her hostel, watching the orange sun fade behind the rusted water tank. Her thoughts wandered to Aunt Ifeoma — the aunt who had promised to see her through university. The same one who stopped answering her calls the moment Zina shared she had passed her exams and gained admission.
People switch, she had learned. Some with reason, most without, she had no one, Until she met Lilian.
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Lilian was her coursemate, her roommate, her rock. A girl with laughter that could chase darkness from a room and arms that always seemed to make space for Zina. They studied together, Shared their last sachet of milk together, Cried through results and danced through stress together, Zina often slept over at Lilian's place when things got tough. Even when she tried to contribute, Lilian would wave her off.
"You're my sister now," she would say, passing Zina a plate of hot rice but Zina never took advantage. Whenever she had something, even if it was just garri and groundnuts, she made sure to share, They weren't surviving; they were living, wrapped in the warmth of each other's loyalty.
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For the first time in years, Zina felt safe, Understood, seen but comfort has a way of making you careless.
Because just when everything seemed to be falling into place, someone else stepped in with a smile too polished and motives too hidden.
A new friend, A coursemate, A girl who seemed warm at first. Funny. Helpful, but some shadows wear familiar faces, Zina didn't see the betrayal coming.
Not until it was too late.
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