Mark walked for hours, not knowing where to go. The sting of Madan Eno’s betrayal hit him very deep because he knew that if his was still alive, all this suffering would not happen.

The streets were quiet, only the distant voices of people settling into their homes filled the air. But no one noticed Mark was helpless and homeless. He was suffocating in silence.

His feet carried him forward, exhausted but unwilling to stop. He could no longer make calculation about his future as he used to do.

And then, as if fate had whispered his name, he found himself standing outside the school gate. Mr. Okafor was locking up his office when he noticed the boy standing by the entrance. He frowned, stepping closer.  

“Mark?” he called.  

Mark lifted his gaze and Mr. Okafor could see the resentment. He had seen many students struggle, but he had never seen this expression before, an emptiness that swallowed everything. He knew something was wrong and Mark was in need of help.

Something inside him tightened.  

“What happened?” he asked gently.  

Mark opened his mouth, but no words came. His throat burned, his chest ached, but still, he said nothing. His hope of survival was gone.

He did not need to say anything. Mr. Okafor understood.  

“Come with me.”

Mr. Okafor did not ask too many questions that night. He simply led Mark to his house, handed him food, and let him sit in silence.  

Mr. Okafor had no wife nor children. He believes he was still at his prime and needed to enjoy being a bachelor till he was ready for commitment.

“I have no home anymore” Mark found himself saying in a very low voice.

Mr. Okafor listened, “You can stay with me for now,” he said, his voice filled with compassion. “We’ll figure something out.”  

Mark stared at the man, the first person in years to show him kindness without expecting anything in return. He nodded, gripping the plate in his hands, swallowing the lump in his throat.  

Later in the evening, Mr. Okafor took Mark to an empty room where he usually entertain his friends, he tidied the room and made sure Mark was comfortable.

For the first time in Mark’s life, survival felt less like a fight.  

For the first time, hope did not feel like an illusion.  

And for the first time, Mark knew this was the beginning of something new.