Chapter 22: The Promise of Rain
Early the next morning, I pushed open my mother’s door.
The hinges squeaked, echoing in the dawn. I held a stack of papers and smiled at her.
The smile was shaky, but full of new purpose. “Hello, Comrade Aisha. Jumoke reporting for duty.”
Her face lit up, a tear slipping down her cheek. For the first time, I saw hope and pride shining in her eyes—like the promise of rain after a long, dusty harmattan. And I knew—my story was just beginning.
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