If you see Amaka on a normal day, you go think say she get bad character. Fine girl, sharp mouth, long nails, the kind of girl your mother go tell you to avoid. But people forget say life dey humble person by force sometimes.

Amaka’s mother had been sick for months. Kidney wahala. Dialysis every week. The bills? Fearful. Her father had died when she was just 15, and as the first child, everything fell on her head. With no job, no helper, and hospital bills choking her, she did what society loves to judge—she started collecting from men.

Different boyfriends, different pockets. One for hospital bill, one for drugs, another one for feeding. She knew it wasn’t right, but when hunger and hospital receipts dey pursue you, right and wrong go start to look alike. She became a pro at lying sweetly. “Babe, my phone spoiled,” “I need urgent 20k for my project,” “My landlord wan embarrass me.” All coded ways to survive.

But that Sunday? That wicked Sunday? Life showed her she wasn’t the sharpest after all.

She was sitting by her mother’s hospital bed, holding her frail hand, when her phone rang. It was from one of her “investors.” This one was different. Rich, proud, and stupidly in love. But this time, he wasn’t calling to send money. His voice was cold.

“Amaka, you’re a fraud. I’m suing you for extortion. You think you’re smart abi? We’ll see in court.”

For a second, her heart left her chest. Sue? For what? For surviving? For saving her mother? But before she could even process it, the nurse rushed in, face squeezed.

“Amaka, we lost her. Your mother is gone.”

Two hits. Same hour.

She didn’t scream. She didn’t cry. She just stood there, phone in one hand, her mother’s cold fingers in the other, staring at nothing. The pain was too heavy for tears. Betrayal, loss, shame, everything at once. She remembered all the insults people had thrown at her—“Runs girl,” “Gold digger,” “Shameless.” Maybe they were right. Maybe not. But at that moment, nothing mattered. The only person she had been fighting for was gone.

That night, Amaka walked home slowly. No mother, no money, court case hanging on her neck. The world had finished her.

Love had pushed her to survive in dirty ways. Pain had rewarded her efforts with emptiness.

But life? Life no send anybody.