Post by Wisdom of Onyisi (@Onyisi_of_Lagos)
OXFORDS
Chapter One: Dust and Quiet Hunger
The dust in Zaria did not just settle on the ground—it lived in the air, clung to skin, crept into lungs, and rested on dreams.
Amina Sadiq often wondered if that was why so many people stopped dreaming early.
From the doorway of their modest home, she watched the street come alive each morning. Women balancing basins on their heads, boys kicking worn-out footballs, okada riders shouting for passengers.
Life moved.
But it did not always move forward.
“Amina!”
Her mother’s voice came sharp from inside. “If you don’t come and eat now, your food will get cold.”
“I’m coming, Mama!”
She didn’t move immediately.
Her eyes were fixed on a group of children her age arguing over something she couldn’t hear. One of them pushed another. Laughter followed. Then silence.
Simple lives.
Simple expectations.
But Amina’s mind refused simplicity.
At fifteen, she already carried questions that had no easy answers.
Why did her father work so hard and still struggle?
Why did some children leave school while others never even started?
Why did leaders speak so much and change so little?
Inside, her father sat at the small wooden table, reading yesterday’s newspaper like it still held tomorrow’s answers.
“You are late,” he said without looking up.
“I was thinking,” Amina replied, sitting down.
Her mother scoffed lightly. “Thinking does not fill the stomach.”
Her father folded the newspaper slowly and looked at her.
“What were you thinking about?”
Amina hesitated. Then:
“Why things are the way they are.”
A silence settled.
Her father studied her—not like a child, but like a question.
“That is a dangerous habit,” he said finally.
“Why?”
“Because once you start asking those questions, you cannot stop.”
Amina leaned forward.
“I don’t want to stop.”
Something flickered in his eyes—pride, perhaps… or worry.
“Then you must be ready,” he said quietly, “for the answers to change you.”
⸻
The first time Amina encountered economics, it did not feel like a subject.
It felt like revelation.
The book was old—its edges worn, pages slightly torn—but its contents opened something inside her.
Scarcity. Allocation. Policy. Inequality.
Words that described her world with uncomfortable accuracy.
She began to see patterns everywhere.
Why rice prices increased.
Why salaries stayed the same.
Why some neighborhoods had electricity while others lived in darkness.
“This country is not poor,” she said one afternoon in class, her voice steady but firm. “It is organized in a way that keeps people poor.”
The classroom went quiet.
Her teacher, Mr. Bello, removed his glasses slowly.
“Explain.”
And she did.
Not perfectly.
Not completely.
But boldly.
When she finished, Mr. Bello nodded once.
“Good,” he said. “Now spend the rest of your life proving it.”
⸻
The scholarship email arrived years later on a day that felt ordinary.
The cyber café was noisy, hot, and filled with the smell of overused generators.
Amina almost didn’t check her inbox.
Hope had taught her to be cautious.
But something nudged her.
She logged in.
Clicked.
And read.
Her heart did not race at first.
It stalled.
Then surged.
“Accepted…”
“Full scholarship…”
“Oxford University…”
The words blurred.
“Are you okay?” the café attendant asked.
Amina stood up slowly.
“I… I got in.”
“Into what?”
She swallowed.
“Oxford.”
The attendant blinked. “Is that in Lagos?”
Amina laughed through sudden tears.
“No,” she said. “It’s much farther than that.”
⸻
That night, her family did not sleep early.
Her mother cried openly, half in joy, half in disbelief.
“England?” she kept repeating. “My daughter is going to England?”
Her father remained quiet for a long time.
Then he stood, walked to Amina, and placed his hand on her head.
“Do not go there and forget where you come from,” he said.
“I won’t.”
“And do not go there and become small.”
Amina met his eyes.
“I won’t.”
But deep down, she wondered—
What if the world she was going to was too big for her not to feel small?
0 likes · 0 comments · 0 shares