All Chapters of Lagos Forbidden : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

26 Chapters

Chapter Eleven: Echoes Left Behind

Toronto, Canada – June 12, 2031, 8:19 p.m.The apartment was quieter now. Freedom had passed two winters ago—old age, vet said—and the space where his bed used to be still felt empty. Chino sat on the couch, laptop open but screen dark, staring at a photo Adanna had sent last week: her wedding in Onitsha, small and simple, Papa smiling stiff in the background, Mama beside him wiping her eyes. Adanna looked happy. Chino felt a pang—joy for her, grief for the distance.He hadn’t seen Wale in almost two years. Last time was a quick coffee in Montreal—awkward, polite, both trying too hard not to touch. Wale had a new partner now, someone from the diaspora community, a photographer. Chino had smiled, said “I’m happy for you,” and meant it mostly. They still texted on birthdays, sent memes when old Lagos songs popped up online, but the messages had grown shorter, safer.Chino closed the laptop. Walked to the window. City lights glittered below—Toronto, not Lagos, but sometimes at night the

Chapter Twelve: New Light

Toronto, Canada – April 17, 2032, 6:52 p.m.Spring had finally come—real spring, not just the calendar saying so. Trees along Danforth were green again, air smelled like wet earth and coffee from the Greek shops. Chino walked home from the subway, jacket open, hands in pockets. He’d cut his hair shorter last month—less to hide behind—and people at work had noticed. “Looking sharp, man,” they said. He smiled, but didn’t explain it was part of trying to feel lighter.The bar was small, tucked between a bookstore and a laundromat. Called The Anchor—wood tables, low lights, queer crowd mostly, no pressure. He’d come here twice before, alone, nursing a beer, watching more than talking. Tonight he’d promised himself: one drink, then home. No expectations.He saw the man at the end of the bar first—tall, light hair, blue eyes, maybe mid-thirties. White, but not the cold kind Chino sometimes braced for. Laughing easy with a friend, hand gesturing wide. Something open in his face. Chino looked

Chapter Thirteen: Quiet Returns

Lagos, Nigeria – December 24, 2035, 7:18 p.m.The airport smelled the same—sweat, jet fuel, roasted corn from the hawkers outside. Chino stepped through arrivals, small carry-on in hand, heart beating too fast. Ten years since he’d left. Ten years since the roadblock, the plane, Toronto, Liam, the slow drift from Wale, the life he’d built and the one he’d left behind.Adanna waited beyond the barrier—taller now, hair in neat braids, smiling wide but eyes wet. She ran the last steps, threw arms around him. “Bros! You too tall now. Canada feed you well.”Chino laughed, hugged her tight. “You dey look like Mama now. Married life sweet?”“Sweet pass honey. But Papa still dey grumble small-small when I mention your name.”They walked out to the car—her husband Kelechi driving, quiet smile, radio low on Christmas carols. Traffic thick as always, okadas weaving, hawkers shouting “pure water!” through windows. Chino stared out—neon crosses still taller than banks, billboards promising morals,

Chapter Fourteen: Full Circle

Lagos, Nigeria – December 25, 2035, 11:42 a.m. The church compound was loud—children running, women in bright Ankara laughing over plates of rice and stew, men shaking hands under the mango tree. Christmas service had ended; the choir still hummed carols in the background. Chino stood near the gate, hands in pockets, watching it all like he was seeing it for the first time. Adanna came up beside him, baby on her hip—little girl named Nkem, barely six months, eyes wide and curious. “She dey look you like she know you,” Adanna said, smiling. “Papa say make you come inside for family photo. Mama insist.” Chino looked at the baby. Reached out slow. Nkem grabbed his finger, gurgled. Something in his chest loosened. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s go.” The family house was full—cousins, aunties, Kelechi grilling meat in the backyard. Mama moved between kitchen and parlor, apron on, humming. Papa sat in his usual chair, Bible open but unread, eyes following Chino quiet. No big speech. No apolo

Chapter Fifteen: The Last Flame

Toronto, Canada – March 4, 2040, 6:12 a.m.The house was small—two bedrooms, backyard big enough for a garden, porch with two chairs facing east. Chino sat there now, coffee gone cold in his hand, watching the sky turn pink over the rooftops. Liam slept inside; the alarm would go off soon for school. Freedom’s old collar hung on a hook by the door—faded red, still smelling faintly of wet fur.Fifteen years since the plane lifted off from Lagos. Fifteen years since the knock, the kiss in daylight, the verdict that saved them and broke them all at once.Chino pulled out his phone. Old photos still there—blurry shots from Yaba, the thin mattress; Wale laughing in the Kano hotel; Adanna’s wedding; Liam and him on their first real trip to Montreal. He scrolled slow. Stopped on one: him and Wale at the Toronto beach, summer 2028, arms around each other, trying to smile through the hurt that was already starting to show.He hadn’t seen Wale in person since 2033—quick lunch in Ottawa when Wal

Chapter Sixteen: The Quiet Flame

Toronto, Canada – October 19, 2045, 5:47 p.m. The backyard was golden with late-afternoon sun. Tomatoes hung heavy on the vines Liam still tended, peppers bright red against green leaves. Chino sat on the porch steps, knees drawn up, watching Nkem—Adanna’s daughter, now ten—chase a soccer ball with Liam across the grass. She laughed loud when Liam pretended to miss a save, falling dramatically. Freedom’s old collar hung on the railing beside Chino—faded, but still there. Twenty years since the plane left Lagos. Twenty years since the knock, the kiss in daylight, the verdict that gave them life and took pieces of it away. Adanna and Kelechi had arrived two days ago—family visit, first time Nkem met “Uncle Chino” in person. She’d stared at him wide-eyed at the airport, then hugged him like she’d known him forever. “Mama say you run from bad people,” she’d whispered later. “But you safe now.” Chino had nodded. “Safe now.” Inside, Mama and Papa were on video call—Adanna holding the ta

Chapter Seventeen: New Dawn

Toronto, Canada – May 22, 2032, 7:03 a.m.Sun came through the blinds in thin gold lines across the floor. Chino woke before the alarm, Liam still asleep beside him, one arm thrown over the pillow, breathing slow and even. The apartment was new—second-floor walk-up in Leslieville, big windows, small balcony overlooking a quiet street. Boxes still half-unpacked in the living room. A single photo on the shelf: him and Liam at Cherry Beach last summer, wind in their hair, laughing like they had nowhere else to be.Chino slipped out of bed. Bare feet on cool wood. He made coffee—black for himself, splash of oat milk for Liam when he woke. Stood at the window watching the street wake up: joggers, dog walkers, a delivery bike zipping past. No sirens. No knocks. Just ordinary morning.Liam shuffled in, hair messy, eyes half-closed. “You’re up early again.”“Habit,” Chino said. Handed him the mug.Liam took it, leaned against the counter. “You okay?”Chino nodded. “Better than okay. Just… thi

Chapter Eighteen: Steady Ground

Toronto, Canada – September 8, 2033, 4:22 p.m.The community center smelled like fresh paint and coffee brewing in the back. Folding chairs in rows, banner on the wall: “New Arrivals Support Group – Sharing Stories, Building Futures.” Chino sat near the middle, not front, not back. Liam beside him, hand resting light on Chino’s knee under the table. First time Chino had come to one of these since the early refugee days. First time he’d agreed to speak.The facilitator—a kind woman named Priya, originally from Delhi—smiled at him. “Chino, whenever you’re ready. No pressure.”Chino exhaled slow. Looked at the circle: ten people, different faces, different accents, same quiet strength in their eyes. A young guy from Syria, a woman from Venezuela, an older man from Ukraine. All carrying something heavy, all still walking.He cleared his throat. “I no plan to talk long. Just… want to say thank you. For this space. For people who listen.”He paused. Liam squeezed his knee—silent go.“I come

Chapter Nineteen: Roots and Wings

Toronto, Canada – February 14, 2034, 8:37 p.m. The table was small but full—candles flickering, jollof steaming in the middle, fried plantain on the side, Liam’s attempt at puff-puff (a little too sweet, but Chino ate them anyway). Red roses from the market in a glass jar, no fancy vase. Freedom’s old collar on the shelf, watching like always. Liam raised his glass—red wine, cheap but good. “To two years of us. And to whatever comes next.” Chino clinked his glass. “To us. And to next.” They ate slow. Laughed at Liam’s puff-puff—“Taste like Canadian donut try to be Nigerian.” Chino told him about Valentine’s in Lagos—street hawkers selling heart balloons, couples sneaking kisses in corners, churches preaching against it all. Liam listened, eyes soft. After dinner, they moved to the couch. Liam pulled out a small box—wrapped in brown paper, red ribbon. “Not big. Just… something.” Chino opened it slow. Inside: two silver bands, simple, engraved inside one: Still breathing. Still gl

Chapter Twenty: Blossoms in Winter

Toronto, Canada – December 25, 2034, 9:14 a.m.Snow fell light outside the big window—big, fat flakes catching on the balcony railing. Inside, the apartment smelled like cinnamon from Liam’s attempt at Nigerian Christmas cake (too much nutmeg, but Chino ate two slices anyway). The tree was small, fake, decorated with lights Adanna sent last year and ornaments Liam bought at a winter market. Underneath: wrapped gifts, one big box for Nkem, small ones for everyone else.Adanna and Kelechi had flown in three days ago—first family Christmas in Toronto. Nkem, now eleven, ran around in socks, eyes wide at the snow. “Uncle Chino! It dey fall like magic!”Chino laughed, pulled her into a hug. “Na magic. But cold magic. Come, wear your coat.”Mama and Papa joined on video—tablet propped on the table, Onitsha living room behind them, Christmas carols playing low. Mama’s face filled the screen, smile wide. “Chino! Liam! Nkem! Merry Christmas, my people!”Papa sat beside her, quieter than last ye

1 2 3

SCAN CODE TO READ ON APP