Chapter 15 : When Visitors Carry a New Wind

Richard didn't call and she didn't call him either.

It wasn't pride, it was peace, The kind of peace that comes when a person has nothing more to give, nothing left to fight for. Zina had finally accepted what the years had tried to teach her: sometimes the heart wants what it doesn't need. And sometimes, the best goodbye is the one you don't say with your lips but with your silence.

She moved on, slowly but surely.

 There were days she would pause in the middle of chores or conversations, because a flashback had gripped her chest. She didn't run from them anymore. Instead, she sat with them, the memories, the tears, the ache and let them pass through her like a storm that had already done its damage. She no longer denied her pain. She didn't pretend it hadn't shaped her, what she did instead was honour it, not by glorifying it, but by not allowing it to define her anymore.

It was on a lazy, sunlit afternoon that the unexpected happened.

Zina sat outside, on the long cement corridor of her father's compound, the day had the kind of charm that made her want to press pause on time. She and her siblings were chatting and giggling over random things, food, school memories, their neighbours' drama. Laughter echoed softly, like music wrapped in love, the dry season had dusted everything in warm golden tones, the trees swayed with grace, responding to the soft hum of the breeze, the earth beneath them was firm, dry and cracked in some places, typical of harmattan's visit to the southeast.

Then came footsteps.

They looked up to see three men walking into the compound, two young and one elderly. The older man walked with quiet authority, while the two younger ones had that silent confidence that came from knowing they didn't need to say much to be noticed, Their outfits were fresh, neat, and classy, they didn't come to show off, but it showed anyway.

Zina's eyes found one of them almost immediately.

He was tall. Dark. His oval face was outlined with fine dreadlocks that gently kissed his shoulders, he wore a fitted black T-shirt tucked into a clean pair of deep-blue jeans, his look was simple, but there was something quietly intense about his presence, Zina couldn't explain it, but her heart made a mental note of him.

 As the men got closer, she and her siblings became alert. They were the only ones at home, and unexpected guests always came with the possibility of awkwardness or trouble, Still, they offered seats politely, the dreadlocked man and the elderly one sat down, settling with ease, while the second young man chose to stand, his arms folded and gaze moving slowly across the compound. It was hard to tell if he was being protective or just observant. Either way, his presence added to the weight of the moment.

Then the older man spoke.

"Are your parents around?" he asked gently, his voice calm.

Zina stood, her voice firm yet respectful. "No sir, they're not home."

The man nodded. "We'll come back later," he said as he rose, brushing invisible dust off his trousers.

And just like that, they turned to leave.

But just as they reached the gate, a little girl from the neighbourhood ran breathlessly into the compound. She looked excited, like she had just been given a special task.

"That uncle outside wants to talk to you," she said, eyes wide, pointing toward the gate. Zina blinked. "Me?"

Her siblings chuckled and nudged her forward. "Go now! You don't know what God is planning o. Just hear him out," one whispered with a playful grin.

Zina hesitated. Her heart thumped not from excitement, but uncertainty. After everything she'd been through, the idea of meeting someone new felt heavy, but something in the girl's voice… something about the way her siblings encouraged her… pushed her forward.

She stepped out.

There he was, the dreadlocked stranger standing quietly outside the compound, hands in his pockets, like he too wasn't sure how this was supposed to go. He looked at her and smiled, a little awkwardly.

Before either of them could say anything, the second young man, the one who stood watching earlier stepped forward and broke the tension.

"Why don't you two exchange contacts?" he said with an amused smirk, like someone who had seen enough love stories begin this way, So, Zina reached for her phone, he did the same, numbers were exchanged, no long talk, no dramatic intro, Just the possibility of something... perhaps.

And then they left.

Zina stood still for a moment, her phone still in hand, her fingers lightly trembling. Who were they? What was the purpose of their visit? Were they just passing through or was something bigger unfolding?

She couldn't tell. Not yet.

Later that evening, when her parents returned, she told them about the visitors, how three men came and said they'd return. But she didn't get their names, she didn't ask, and they didn't offer, that part of the puzzle was left blank, still, Zina felt something stir inside her.

 Not the kind of stirring that comes with butterflies or infatuation, this was something more grounded like the feeling of fresh air after being locked in a stuffy room. She didn't want to assume anything, but she also couldn't ignore that something about that visit felt… intentional.

Maybe it was nothing.

Or maybe, just maybe, the year had decided to open a new chapter one she hadn't seen coming, she wasn't rushing toward it. She was just waiting, watching, healing.

And for once in a long time, she was okay with that.