Betrayed by my Stepsister, Saved by Love

Star sat down at a nearby canteen with Lizzy. They have been sitting down there for some time, and the sales boy approached them. 

"What do you want to buy?" he asked, but Star had only her transport fare with her; she didn't have any extra money. 'Gosh, ' she is thirsty too. The girl looked at her and saw that she was not ready to place any order. 

"Please give us two bottles of soft drinks and two snacks."

"Add a bottle of water too", Star added. What is she saying?, But 'hey, I can't just die in silence', she thought. 'So who pays the bill?' Her mind kept beating. 

The sales boy brought their orders, and she almost finished the bottle of water at a glance. She belched, and the girl looked at her but didn't utter a word. She turned to the sales boy who was looking at them.

"How much is your money?".

"The total is two thousand, three hundred naira".

Lizzy opened her school bag and brought out her pulse. Star admired the red medium-sized pulse and was shocked to see that there were many thousand naira notes inside as the girl opened the pulse. She took three thousand naira notes and gave them to the sales boy. The sight of the money tempted Star so much. For once, she wondered who the girl was. The strange girl has been following her since she left that Prefab.

The two girls sat on the old wooden bench in the canteen, with their snacks resting quietly in their laps, meat pies slightly warm, and soft drinks already half-finished.

There were other students buying things from the canteen, but they sat in a distant corner and they chewed in silence, each lost in her thoughts, until Star broke it with a soft

"Thanks for the snacks."

Lizzy smiled, brushing crumbs from her skirt.

 "It's nothing. Anyway... I'm Yoruba. I guessed you're Igbo?"

Star grinned, brushing back her fallen natural hair strands. "Yeah, proudly Igbo."

Lizzy chuckled, waving her hand.

"Whatever. We're all one Nigeria, sha."

Star's eyes sharpened a bit, though she still smiled.

 "Not so fast. Biafra is on the way, dear."

Lizzy tilted her head, skeptical.

"Hmm... what makes you think so? After the war, there was no Biafra. Nigeria moved on."

"That war," Star began, her voice calm but edged with conviction, "was lost not on the battlefield, but through betrayal. Sabotage from our people. But even so, the dream didn't die. Biafra is more than a history; it's a vision. A hope. And you know, hope doesn't die."

Lizzy leaned forward. "You believe this?"

"I do," Star said without hesitation.

"Well," Lizzy sighed,

"maybe you do. But how will your people even lead themselves? Don't get me wrong, but the little time I spent in Onitsha with my aunt, when I went to visit her for a couple of days... it didn't paint a pretty picture. Everyone seems out for themselves. I saw two brothers fighting with machetes over land. Blood in their eyes like strangers, not family."

Star frowned slightly, a cloud passing over her expression.

"Why do I feel like you've got something against the Igbos?"

Lizzy shook her head.

 "No, no. Nothing like that. I just... I speak from what I observed. Your people are brilliant, hardworking, business-minded, but sometimes... I wonder about the love among you. That unity you dream about, do you guys have it?"

Star sighed, looking out into the distance.

"Lizzy, what you saw... It's not just an Igbo thing. That same madness lives in every corner of this country. People fight over inheritance everywhere. We've been broken, tribe against tribe, brother against brother. But this country's deeper sickness? It's not in the people. It's in the system."

She turned toward Lizzy, her eyes steady.

 "We live in a corrupt nation. The rich get richer by stealing what belongs to the poor. Politicians build empires while children sit on bare floors in classrooms with leaking roofs."

Lizzy nodded slowly.

"Yet they promise so much during campaigns."

Star let out a humorless laugh. 

"They promise us heaven, then hand us hell. They talk about free education, better roads, jobs for all, but as soon as they get into office, they forget. They rig, they steal."

"Sometimes I wonder if school is even worth it," Lizzy muttered. "We come with dreams, but what do we leave with?"

"Frustration naa. Just look at us, attending a lecture, but the room was more like a crowded social gathering," Star replied softly. 

"Meanwhile, the children of the rich study abroad, in clean classrooms, with access to resources we can't even imagine. What about us? What happens to the girl who can't afford fees, or the boy who drops out to become an agbero just to feed his family?"

The air grew heavy with their shared disillusionment.

"We're told we're the leaders of tomorrow," Star continued, "but how can we lead without knowledge? Without opportunity? Without hope?"

There was silence for a while. Then Star's voice dropped to a whisper. 

"Still, I believe in Biafra. I want to wake up one day, stretch my arms to the sky, and shout 'All hail Biafra, my country!' And I believe the God of Chukwu Okike Abiama will hear us."

Lizzy looked over. "That's how you call God in Igbo?"

Star nodded.

"One of the ways. We also say 'Chineke', the Creator of the world."

"Are there more?" Lizzy asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Oh, plenty," Star said, a small smile returning. 

"We call Him Oje na mmuo, the God who walks in the spirit. Ebubedike, the mighty one in battle. Odogwu akataka, the fearless warrior."

Lizzy tried repeating. "Taka… takata?"

Star burst into laughter, shaking her head. 

"No o! A-ka-ta-ka. Say it slowly."

Lizzy laughed too, blushing.

"Abeg stop laughing joor! Just continue, teacher."

"Sorry!" Star said, still smiling. "It's just the way you said it. But seriously, it's okay not to know. You're not Igbo."

"I've forgotten half already," Lizzy confessed.

Star shrugged. "It's normal. But you're learning, and that's what matters."

Lizzy gave a small nod. "Thanks, Star. I did learn something today."

"Same here," Star said. "We learn from each other."

Lizzy looked outside from the open window near her, and a patch of cloud was drifting slowly.

 "I just wish people in power feared God."

Star nodded solemnly. "If they did, Nigeria wouldn't be like this."

And for a while, neither spoke. The breeze rustled from outside, as if nature itself paused to listen to the dreams of the two young women, one Yoruba, one Igbo, on a quiet school bench, dreaming of a better tomorrow.