Chapter 5 : Europe? Who, Me?

Madame Veronica's promises felt too good to be true. She owned a very big salon close to our school hostel. Sometimes when my hair was rough, I would go there just to make cornrows, nothing too complicated. Madame Veronica didn't actually braid hair herself; she mostly stayed in her office, supervising the girls who worked for her.

One faithful day, I was sitting in her shop while one of her girls was working on my hair. Suddenly, Madame Veronica walked out of her office. She opened her mouth in amazement, staring straight at me with her jaw slightly slack. Without a word, she walked right up to me and asked, "What is your name?"

I told her my name was Juliet.

She asked me to stand up. The girl working on my hair immediately took her hands off, and I stood up. Madame Veronica told me to turn around, which I did. Then she asked what I did. I told her I was a student in my 200 level, studying Banking and Finance. She looked me up and down, and told me that when I was done with my hair, I should come see her in her office.

When the styling was finished, I went straight to her office. She asked me to sit down and treated me to a cold bottle of Malt from her office fridge. Then, she looked at me with a serious expression and asked if I would like to travel to Europe.

I looked at her, smiling because the question felt completely unbelievable. Europe? Who, me? Who will sponsor me? How?

I've heard stories of people traveling abroad, but they were always people with rich parents, influential relatives, or scholarships. I was none of those things. I couldn't even afford to dream about boarding an airplane. Europe was something I only saw on television and on F******k. Whenever I saw people taking pictures in front of beautiful buildings overseas, I would pause for a few seconds, admire them, and then keep scrolling because I believed that kind of life wasn't meant for someone like me.

Seeing my disbelief, Madame Veronica beat her chest and said, "Don't worry about the financial cost. I will sponsor you."

I sat there looking at her like I was watching a movie or trapped in a dream. It felt like a trance. I watched her lips move as she laid it all out. She would pay for the flight tickets, handle the visa, and cover everything. All I had to do was bring myself. She told me I wasn't the only girl she was taking. There were about seventeen others, and she needed eighteen in total. If I agreed, she would start making the immediate arrangements for me.

When I asked how I could possibly pay her back since I didn't have any money, she told me not to worry. Once I arrived, she would register me in a modeling agency.

(I paused for a moment, my voice trembling as I wiped my eyes.)

"They won't even waste time," she said, her eyes gleaming. "The moment they see you, they will rush you. You are a hot cake. Do you see your shape? Do you see what you are carrying?"

She asked me to stand up from my chair again and walked me over to a massive framed mirror hanging on her office wall. She stood right behind me, pointing out features of my body I had never even noticed or appreciated before. Not once had I ever looked at my own body that way, Mummy.

"The moment you step off the plane in Europe," she promised, "all the white men will rush you."

I believed every single word she said. Why wouldn't I? She wasn't some stranger I had met on the street. She owned a successful business. Students came in and out of her salon every day, and people spoke of her with respect. She carried herself with so much confidence that nothing she said sounded impossible. Looking back now, I realize she already knew exactly what to say to someone like me, someone who was desperate for a better future and wanted so badly to believe that life could finally change.

I was just smiling, completely dumbfounded. She warned me not to tell anyone, explaining that she didn't want people running to her office begging to be taken to Europe too.

When I asked again about how I was going to pay her back, she broke down the math.

"Once I register you in the agency, do you know how much they pay? You'll make no less than five thousand dollars every month."

When I heard that, my ears almost exploded and my eyes felt like they wanted to pop out of their sockets.

She looked at me and said, "Juliet, you are about to make it big. Once you get there, every single month we will be splitting your salary fifty-fifty. I will take fifty percent of your earnings every month."

She calculated that the total cost for the visa, documents, and passport would be around eight million naira, but the total amount I would eventually pay back would be twenty million naira.

"Do you know how much five thousand dollars is?" she asked, pulling out a computer and punching in numbers. She was calculating money I had never seen before in my life. According to her calculations, if I paid her two thousand dollars every month, I would clear everything within a year.

I said, "Okay. No problem."

Madame Veronica smiled and shook her head.

"Juliet, don't answer me so quickly. Go back to your hostel and think about it very well."

(I stopped talking, my shoulders heaving as I buried my face in my hands, crying for a few long seconds. Slowly, I lifted my head, reached for a tissue, and gently wiped my nose before looking back into the camera.)

I went back to the hostel that night, and I couldn't sleep. I couldn't even blink my eyes. My mind was racing from one thought to another. I kept staring at the ceiling, imagining what my life would become if everything she said was true. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw a different future. I saw myself boarding an airplane for the very first time. I saw myself walking through beautiful streets I had only seen on television. I saw myself earning more money than I had ever imagined possible.

Truth be told, for myself, I wasn't even desperate. All I wanted was to finish school, get a decent job, and quietly settle down. I would've been happy with an ordinary life. But knowing I had a family, knowing I had you, I just couldn't let an opportunity like that pass me by. I kept thinking about how much easier life would become for everyone if I accepted.

I started calculating everything in my head. I thought about finally buying you the house you always talked about. I imagined buying you a beautiful car so you wouldn't have to enter public buses again. I even thought about buying your husband a brand-new car too. I wanted him to look at me one day and realize that maybe he had been wrong about me all those years.

I imagined paying for my younger siblings' education without anyone struggling. I imagined making sure no one in the family ever complained about money again. Every dream I had that night wasn't really about me. It was about all of you.

My roommates had already fallen asleep, but I was still lying there wide awake, staring into the darkness, my chest aching from how badly I wanted it to be true. My heart was so full of hope that I didn't even notice how late it had become.

I kept saying to myself, Maybe this is finally it. Maybe this is the opportunity God has been keeping for me. Maybe after everything I've been through, life is finally about to smile at me.

I wasn't thinking about expensive clothes or living a flashy life. I wasn't dreaming about becoming famous. All I wanted was for you to finally look at me with pride. I wanted you to stop regretting the day I was born, to stop seeing me as the child who brought shame into your life. I wanted you to finally believe that I was enough.

Looking back now, Mummy… I realize I wasn't chasing Europe. I was chasing your love.