In a room, a big screen was on display and it showed graphs falling and decreasing chart that displayed low sales in product, in the room were men who sat while others paced around the big table which were filled with documents and pen, the men were busy making phone calls which were either ignored or rejected. The documents showed losses and rejection of collaborations from various companies as well as withdrawal from previous collaborated companies. "How are we going to solve this mess?" "They are rejecting our entire proposal" "and withdrawing, how's this possible?" As voices clashed and argument occurred between the men in the room, the room went silent after a phone rang from the middle of the table, the name THE CEO lilted the screen of the phone. The phone was answered and placed in the middle while on speaker, a voice came out loud but firm "do not worry, you can all go home now, help is coming".
The next day, in a private jet was a young man who was on his phone, he starred at the window where the grasses, trees and buildings were visible then he starred back at his phone, when the jet landed, he was calmly greeted "Dr. Jedidiah, WELCOME TO NIGERIA", he smiled and walked out of the private jet with a small grin smile on his face and he heaves a sign of relief. He walked out the airport and he saw a car parked outside with a driver in the front sit patiently waiting for him. While in the car, he got a flash back
FLASHBACK
"His mind wandered into a time where he walked home bare footed in the late hour of the night while it rained heavily, he walked home to meet his siblings already at home and his whole family, friend and his girlfriend waiting for him in the living with his sister head down, his brother looking away with shame and his step brother smiling at him with a villainous smile with his hands firmly around his girlfriend like he just won a tournament with gold medal while she looked away. He stood in silence, drenched in the rainwater and confusion, as they all stared at him with disgust. Then the accusations came—money missing, secrets leaked, trusts broken. His closest friend claimed he had betrayed them all, his girlfriend tearfully confirmed it, and his stepbrother showed fake evidence—screenshots, voice notes, manipulated conversations. His own brother and sister couldn't even look him in the eye. But what shattered him most was when his parents, standing beside his stepbrother's mother, declared in front of everyone that he had brought shame to the family.
He tried to defend himself, explain, plead—but no one listened. His grandfather, always stern and cold toward him, nodded in approval at the punishment given. That night, they threw him out, not just from the house, but from their lives. And the worst part? Deep down, he saw it in his father's eyes and his mother's trembling hands—they knew the truth. They knew he was innocent. But they said nothing. Because pleasing his grandfather mattered more than justice.
He walked away into the storm, not just soaked in rain, but in betrayal, humiliation, and heartbreak. That was the night everything broke—and a part of him never healed."
"Sir? Sir? Sir… we're here," the driver's voice echoed into Jedidiah's thoughts.
He blinked, snapping out of the vivid memory. "Sorry," he muttered. "I was just lost in thought."
The Uber driver chuckled lightly. "Happens to the best of us. We've arrived at your destination."
Jedidiah glanced outside. Already? He hadn't realized how long he'd been drifting in his mind. He sighed, rubbing his temples. "How long was I out?" he asked.
"Long enough to run a documentary in your head," the driver replied, grinning. "But hey, can I leave you with a piece of advice?"
Jedidiah nodded, curious.
"The road to success," the driver said, "ain't a walk in the park. Sometimes, the road to greatness… means going back and facing your past."
Jedidiah gave a half-smile. "Not sure that path's meant for me."
"Then maybe it's exactly the one you're meant to walk," the driver replied, winking.
Jedidiah paid and stepped out. As the car drove off, he stood there for a moment, breathing deeply. Then, mustering courage, he whispered to himself, "Let's go home."
He approached his apartment building. Everything looked just like he remembered… and yet so different. As he reached his door and tried the handle, he noticed—it was already open. From inside, he heard muffled voices… and laughter.
Cautiously, he stepped in. The lights were on. He moved slowly toward the bedroom, then stopped cold.
There, under his blanket, were two people tangled in each other's arms—clearly enjoying themselves. The moaning stopped instantly when his voice cut through the air.
"Daddy's back."
The couple froze. Jedidiah turned around and walked out of the room.
Moments later, the pair rushed out, half-dressed, clearly embarrassed. Jedidiah stood calmly, arms folded.
"You might have just outdone yourself, Alice," he said, voice low and disappointed. "Though, credit where it's due—at least you kept part of the house clean. So thanks. But now that I'm back… I'll need my house."
Alice tried to speak. "Jedidiah, it's not what you think, it's—"
He cut her off. "No, no, no. I don't need to know. Remember, it's your life, not mine."
The man beside her scoffed and stepped forward. "It's none of your business what Alice and I do. You hear me, young man? Why don't you just leave?"
Jedidiah gave a sly smile. "Yeah… you're right. It's none of my business. And I would leave. But I can't. So… you have to."
The man looked confused. Alice turned to him, guilt all over her face.
"The house… it belongs to him," she admitted.
The man blinked in disbelief, stunned into silence. Then, with an annoyed grunt, he grabbed his clothes and stormed out.
Alice remained still, eyes locked on Jedidiah.
After they left, Jedidiah spent the next few hours cleaning the apartment—removing the dust and the memories. As the evening rolled in, his stomach growled. There was no food.
"I guess grocery shopping it is," he muttered.
He headed to the local supermarket. As he walked through the aisles, he noticed how different everything felt. Eight years really changed a lot. The brands were new, prices doubled, even the layout felt unfamiliar.
At the checkout line, he heard shouting. A young woman was arguing at the cashier booth.
"This is ridiculous! I bought this item, it spoiled, and I want a refund!"
"I understand," the cashier said calmly, "but you brought it back eight days later. Our policy covers just five days."
The girl, clearly frustrated, huffed and stormed off—dropping her purse in the process. Jedidiah picked it up and ran after her.
"Excuse me, miss—"
She turned sharply. "Oh, save it! I'm not interested in flirting or whatever this is!"
Jedidiah paused, taken aback. He said nothing, only handed the purse to the girl walking behind her.
"Thank you," her friend whispered with an apologetic smile.
He nodded silently and walked back, paid for his groceries, and left. As he walked home, the events of the day played in his head like a movie reel. Then he chuckled.
"Welcome to Nigeria."
The next morning, sunlight pierced through his window. A ping from his phone woke him. It was a location invite.
Today's the day, he thought, getting ready.
After freshening up, he hailed another Uber and headed to the venue. He soon arrived at a grand hall, beautifully decorated with futuristic designs and digital art. It was the anniversary celebration of one of Nigeria's top tech firms—Raymond Tech.
The crowd was large and buzzing. After a while, a distinguished-looking man walked onto the stage. Dr. Raymond, the founder himself.
"Today," he began, "marks a turning point for our company. We're embracing change, new partnerships, new visions… but the same passion for innovation. I'm grateful to everyone who helped build this legacy."
The crowd applauded. The after-party commenced.
While mingling, Jedidiah's eyes were drawn to a unique art piece displayed near the bar. He was admiring it when a voice behind him commented:
"Don't know why they picked this one. Looks like a child painted it blindfolded."
Jedidiah turned, smiling. "Actually… it's an abstract representation of time and memory. The brushstrokes symbolize fragmented experiences, while the colors represent emotional highs and lows."
The man blinked, surprised. "You're… an artist?"
"I am."
"Perfect. We need a portrait done for Mr. Raymond's anniversary. His daughter's birthday is also today—and there's talk of a wedding soon. We'll need an artist on standby."
Jedidiah chuckled. "Hopefully I'm around. No promises."
"Come with me," the man said. "I want to introduce you to a few people."
They approached a group standing by a circular booth.
"This is Kate and her daughter Jane. That's Aquileia—Kate's son's girlfriend—and Samantha, her friend. This is Pete, boyfriend to Alice. That's Sophia, Dr. Raymond's younger daughter. And lastly—"
He paused.
"—this is Michelle, the daughter of—"
Suddenly, silence fell. Michelle and Jedidiah locked eyes.
Everyone around them stared like they'd seen a ghost.
"You all know each other?" the host asked.
Before anyone could speak, a voice interrupted.
"Well, well, well. We meet again."
It was Pete, the man who had been with Alice in Jedidiah's house.
"What are you doing here, you arrogant young boy?"
The host turned to Pete. "Wait—you know him?"
Pete was about to answer when a voice rang out.
"Pete."
Everyone turned. It was Alice, standing at the edge of the gathering.
"Do you remember what I told you eight years ago?"
Pete nodded slowly. "Yes… what about it?"
Alice took a deep breath. "This is him. The one everyone thought was dead. This… is Jedidiah. My son."