THE PIECES WE CARRY

Zainab met Adinoyi on the streets of Okene.

Neither of them had much to offer the other. They had no wealthy families, no inherited property, no connections and no real future beyond whatever they could make with their own hands.

They were both hustlers.

They carried loads, sold food, worked odd jobs and did whatever they could to survive. Somewhere between the struggle and the long evenings they spent talking on the streets, they fell in love.

Eventually, they became husband and wife.

Their marriage was not built on money. It was built on the belief that two people with nothing could somehow build something together.

For years, they struggled.

Then, slowly, things began to change.

They started saving.

A little here. A little there.

Eventually, they had managed to put together what seemed to them like a considerable amount of money.

One evening, Zainab counted their savings and looked at her husband.

"Adinoyi, what if we leave Okene?"

He looked at her.

"Leave for where?"

"Lagos."

"Lagos?"

"Yes. People say there is money there."

Adinoyi was quiet.

He knew Lagos was not the promised land. He had heard stories of people who went there and came back with nothing.

But he also knew something else.

They had spent years in Okene and were still poor.

Maybe they needed to take a chance.

So they packed their few belongings, took their savings and travelled to Lagos.

They arrived believing they were going to find a better life.

Instead, Lagos introduced them to a different kind of hardship.

Their money disappeared faster than they expected.

Work was difficult to find.

Rent was expensive.

Food became a daily calculation.

And just when they were beginning to wonder whether they had made a terrible mistake, Zainab discovered that she was pregnant.

Adinoyi was frightened.

But he refused to show it.

He worked harder.

Every morning he left the house looking for work. Every evening he returned exhausted, sometimes with enough money for food, sometimes with nothing.

They were struggling, but Adinoyi kept telling Zainab:

"We will survive."

Then one evening, their neighbour said something that would change the direction of Adinoyi's life forever.

They were sitting outside when they overheard the man talking about people who travelled from Nigeria through Niger and across the Sahara into Libya, hoping to eventually reach Europe.

He spoke about people who had made it.

He spoke about the money they earned.

He spoke about the new lives they built.

Adinoyi listened carefully.

That night, he could not sleep.

For the first time, the thought entered his mind:

What if I leave Nigeria?

He did not know that the journey he was considering would take more from him than he could ever imagine.

He did not know that the road to Europe would take him through the Sahara, into captivity, and eventually into a prison.

He did not know that by the time he returned to Lagos, more than twenty years would have passed.

And he certainly did not know that the greatest tragedy of his life would be waiting for him at the end of his journey.