Written by Ilechukwu Maryjane 

(Inspired by a thousand silent nights and one unbreakable dream)

She wasn’t loud.

She wasn’t rich.

She wasn’t the kind of girl who had people checking on her just because.

She just… existed. Quietly. Until she almost didn’t.

Born into a world where even survival felt like luxury, she carried dreams heavier than her backpack. No sponsors. No auntie in America. No uncle that works in NNPC. Just her, her cracked phone, and a heart that still believed God was watching.

At 17, a friend tried to convince her,

“One night in the club, you’ll wear this. Just show up. They’ll spray you.”

And she looked at the sequined outfit with disgust and pain.

"I'm not selling my soul for small change," she whispered.

That night, she went home hungry… but still whole.

But life didn’t slow down.

Her grades fell like rain on a leaking roof.

She applied for a job — any job. She cleaned, served, answered calls.

Then rushed to class with tired legs and an empty stomach.

They saw her yawning during lectures and thought she was lazy.

But they never saw her crying silently during break — in the restroom, behind the door, wiping her tears before returning to smile again.

She cried in the night.

She cried because she had no one to tell.

No one saw her pain. Not a lecturer. Not a friend. Not even the ones who called her “strong.”

She wasn’t strong. She was just surviving.

Boys? Oh, they came.

“Hey fine girl, smile now.”

She didn’t answer.

They called her proud……

Nexttt👉👉✍️