CHAPTER EIGHT: LOST IN A NEW WORLD

I sat outside the hospital room, tears streaming down my face. "Please, God, save him," I whispered, my voice shaking. I watched Apostle Joshua Selman's prayer video on my phone, YouTube titled "Miracles" praying along with him.

After what felt like forever, the doctor came out. "Mr. Bryan has drifted into a coma," he said, his words like a punch to my gut.

"How many days will it take for him to get back?" I asked, my voice desperate.

The doctor's expression was somber. "Only God knows that. Medically speaking, it could be months or years."

I felt like I'd been hit. I fell to my knees, my body trembling. "No, no, no..." I whispered, my eyes welling up with tears. Everything went black, and I fainted.

When I came to, I was lying in my bed, my head throbbing. I sat up, memories of the hospital flooding back. I buried my face in my pillow and wept.

I saw Bryan walking into the storm. Thunder was booming and lightning was flashing. "Brayan, no! Come back!" I screamed, running after him. The wind was loud and the rain was hitting me hard. But I keep running.

I kept running, but he didn't stop. I tried to grab his hand, but a strong wind blew me away.

I opened my eyes shouting "Brayan!!!!" I was sweating and my heart was racing. "Oh Lord, it was a dream," I said, trying to catch my breath.

Nnena rushed in, concern etched on her face. "What's wrong, Madam?" she asked, seeing me distraught.

I broke down, tears streaming down my face. Nnena wrapped her arms around me, holding me tight. "Everything will be alright, Madam," she whispered, her voice soothing.

We wept together, our tears mingling as we prayed, "Dear Lord, please watch over Bryan and bring him back to us safely," I whispered. "Comfort him in his time of need and give us strength to face this uncertainty."

Nnena's voice trembled as she added, "God, please surround Father Bryan with your love, healing and protection. Heal whatever is hurting him, and bring him peace. Give us wisdom and guidance, Lord."

Together, our prayers filled the room, a heartfelt plea for comfort, healing, and protection.

"Go now! Find this boy at the mall. The manager will lead you to him. Bring him to me, I need to see him. Take the Lexus, hurry!"

As I entered the house, Nnena and the young man stood up to greet me. I nodded slightly, still preoccupied with thoughts of Bryan. "How's Father Bryan?" Nnena asked softly, noticing my somber expression.

"The doctor says he hasn't moved," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. The young man looked at me with concern, but I barely registered his presence. "Let's talk later," I said, heading to my room, overwhelmed by my emotions. 

"Nnena, come with him," I said. As they entered, I turned to the young man. "How are you? And what's your name?" I asked, trying to focus on him despite my worries about Bryan.

"My name is Akram," he said, his voice shaking. "And I'm feeling terrible." He paused, collecting his thoughts. "I was told that your boyfriend was in a coma because he was coming to save me from committing..." He choked on the words, tears streaming down his face. "Please forgive me, ma," he begged, his body shaking with sobs.

"Akram, you are a Muslim, right? From which country?" I asked gently.

"Yes, ma, I'm a Muslim. I'm from Nigeria" Akram replied.

"It's okay about my man. That is how God wants it," I said softly. "Why did you want to commit...?" My voice trailed off as I looked at Akram with concern.

Akram's eyes welled up again. "I was overwhelmed, ma. Life was too much, and I felt alone." He paused, collecting his thoughts. "But seeing your strength and your boyfriend's sacrifice...it's making me rethink everything."

"Akram, you are a Muslim, right? From which country again?" I asked gently.

"Yes, ma, I'm a Muslim. I'm from Nigeria" Akram replied.

"It's okay about my man. That is how God wants it," I said softly. "Why did you want to commit...?" My voice trailed off as I looked at Akram with concern.

Akram's eyes welled up again. "I was overwhelmed, ma. Life was too much, and I felt alone." He paused, collecting his thoughts. "But seeing your strength and your boyfriend's sacrifice...it's making me rethink everything"

"Share your story. I'm listening," I said softly, my eyes locked on Akram's. He took a deep breath, and then began to speak...

"I studied Hotel Management in India, and it was a dream come true when I landed an internship contract at the Hilton Los Angeles Airport. My time in LA was incredible. I worked at the front desk as a trainee, soaking up every experience, and earning a decent income of $1,700 to $2,000 per month. But, bittersweet as it was, my visa expired after a year, and I had to bid farewell to the city that had become my second home.

As I searched for new opportunities worldwide, my eyes landed on a promising opening at the Hilton in Dubai. Given my experience at Hilton LA, it felt like fate was calling. And when they offered me a contract, I felt like I was on cloud nine!"

My eyes sparkled with fascination. "Whoa, so that's how you ended up in Dubai, right?" I asked, my voice laced with genuine interest and a hint of excitement.

Akram continued, "i still remember the excitement of joining Hilton Residences, a brand-new five-star hotel, despite the terrible package and offer. The salary was unattractive, around 2,500 dirhams, and they offered accommodation and meals. I thought to myself, Akram, don't focus on the money; focus on your career. It was 2011, and I was young, eager to learn.

The first day was overwhelming. The manager approached me, asking for my passport for some staff document. I handed it over, trusting them. But as the days went by, I realized something was off. When I asked for my passport back, the manager smiled, saying, "Akram, it's our policy to keep staff passports safely. Don't worry, we'll give it back whenever you need it."

I felt a knot in my stomach. But why can't I have it? I asked.

"All employees leave their passports with us," he replied calmly. "It's for your own safety."

I was uneasy, but I needed the job. The work environment was chaotic constant hiring, long hours, and unnecessary meetings. My contract said 8 hours a day, 6 days a week, but I ended up working 10, even 16 hours a day. As a supervisor, I was drained

The lack of control over my passport and the grueling work schedule took a toll on me. I felt trapped, unsure of my future.

I was uneasy, but I needed the job. The work environment was chaotic constant hiring, long hours, and unnecessary meetings. My contract said 8 hours a day, 6 days a week, but I ended up working 10, even 16 hours a day. As a supervisor, I was drained. "When will this end?" He become emotional.

"Hold on," i said, with a calm and reassuring. "Nenna, get him a glass of juice." Nenna quickly obliged, and he nodded in appreciation. "Thank you, madam," I

He said softly as he took the glass and started coughing...