The morning breeze rustled through the jacaranda trees just outside Zaria's window. Birds chirped somewhere in the distance, and Lagos—loud, brilliant, and relentless—woke with its usual rhythm. But inside the mansion, Zaria sat motionless at the kitchen island, staring at her phone.
She'd just opened the email.
The subject line read:
"Invitation to Speak – Women Rising Summit, Abuja."
The body of the message was straightforward. The organisers had followed her story in the news and on social media, particularly her recent efforts with the proposed women's foundation. They were inspired. They wanted her to give a keynote speech on resilience, motherhood, and redefining success as a modern African woman.
She hadn't even launched the foundation yet. But already, her voice was being requested.
She was stunned.
Darius walked in, shirtless, towel around his shoulders. "You've been staring at that screen since I came out of the shower."
Zaria slowly turned the phone for him to see.
He read the email, eyes widening slightly.
"Big deal," he murmured.
"Too big," she whispered. "Darius, this is not just some school conference or online panel. This is Abuja. Government officials. Celebrities. NGOs. Media. The whole country watching."
He placed a warm hand on her back. "So?"
She sighed. "So… what if I mess up? What if I say something wrong? What if they think I'm just the billionaire's baby mama trying to act important?"
"You're not," he said firmly. "You're Zaria Bello. You have a story worth telling. And this—this is your moment."
---
Three days later, Zaria stood before the mirror in her suite at the Transcorp Hilton in Abuja.
The stylist Darius had arranged—a kind-hearted Yoruba woman named Sade—had dressed her in a deep emerald green iro and buba with modern tailoring, the gele perfectly wrapped to frame her glowing face. She looked like royalty. Pregnant, proud, powerful.
But her hands still shook.
Sade gave her an encouraging smile. "You are ready, my dear. Don't let fear steal what you've earned."
Zaria nodded. Her heart was loud in her ears, but so was the voice of her mother in her memories: Stand tall. Speak truth. Don't let this world shrink you.
---
The auditorium was packed.
Spotlights lit the podium. Cameras flashed. The air buzzed with expectation.
When her name was called, Zaria walked up the stairs, one hand on her bump, the other steady on the railing.
She reached the podium.
A hush fell.
She took a deep breath.
And began.
"My name is Zaria Bello," she said. "And I'm not supposed to be here."
A ripple of murmurs.
She smiled gently. "I wasn't born with power. Or money. I was born in a government hospital with flickering lights and leaking ceilings. My mother was a seamstress. My father disappeared. For most of my life, I was invisible. But I had dreams."
She paused.
"I wanted to be educated. I wanted to build. I wanted to matter. And then—life happened. Love happened. Pregnancy happened. And I thought I had ruined everything."
She looked directly at the audience now.
"But I didn't ruin anything. I became more. I became stronger. More focused. More alive. I'm still that girl with dreams—but now I'm also a woman building something for others. For girls like me."
Thunderous applause broke out, and Zaria exhaled, her voice steady now.
"Being pregnant didn't end my ambition. Falling in love with a complicated man didn't erase my vision. If anything, they refined me. Motherhood is not weakness. It is rebirth. And we—women, mothers, daughters—deserve platforms that honour both our strength and our softness."
The applause swelled. Some women even stood.
Zaria smiled. A full, powerful smile.
She was no longer hiding.
---
Later that evening, as she stepped off the stage and entered the greenroom, Darius was waiting.
He had flown in just in time to watch from the wings.
"You killed it," he said, pulling her into a tight hug.
"I didn't faint," she whispered, laughing into his chest.
"You made people cry. You made me cry."
She looked up at him. "You really think I'm ready for this new life?"
He cupped her face, his voice soft. "I think you were born for it."