“Okay.”
“I’ll send money every month.”
“I know.”
“And once everything is ready, I’ll bring you there.”
Chidinma nodded slowly. “I’ll be waiting.”
A boarding announcement echoed through the airport.
Oena reluctantly released her. “I have to go.”
She forced a smile. “Go and make us proud.”
He walked a few steps away, then suddenly turned back and ran toward her again. He hugged her even tighter this time.
“Thank you,” he said again.
Then he finally walked toward the departure gate.
Chidinma stood there watching until he disappeared from sight. Moments later, she walked toward the large airport windows. Outside, planes were moving slowly across the runway.
When Oena’s plane finally lifted into the sky, her eyes filled with tears. She whispered softly to herself:
“Go and change our lives.”
The plane disappeared into the clouds. Chidinma wiped her tears and turned away from the window. She had no idea that the journey ahead would be far more difficult than she had imagined.
But one thing was certain: she would wait, no matter how long it took.
The apartment felt strangely empty after Oena left. For the first few days, Chidinma kept expecting to hear the familiar sound of his footsteps outside the door or his voice calling her name when he returned from work. But each evening came and went in silence.
The house that once felt warm and lively now felt larger than it actually was—too quiet, too still.
On the third night after his departure, Chidinma lay on the bed staring at the ceiling fan spinning slowly above her. She reached for her phone and checked the time: 2:13 a.m.
Sleep refused to come.
Finally, she opened her messaging app and read the last message Oena had sent from the airport before boarding:
I love you. I’ll call you as soon as I land.
Just thinking about it made her smile.
Despite the loneliness, she felt proud. Her husband was now on his way to America, chasing the future they had dreamed about together, and she had helped make it possible.
Two days later, Oena finally called.
The phone rang while Chidinma was arranging fabrics at her stall in Balogun Market. She almost dropped the cloth in excitement.
“Oena!”
She answered immediately.
“Chidinma.” His voice sounded distant but joyful.
“How was the journey?”
“Long,” he laughed. “Very long.”
“Did you arrive safely?”
“Yes. Everything is so different here.”
“Different how?”
“The buildings are taller, the roads are wide, and the weather…” He paused. “It’s freezing.”
Chidinma laughed. “You’ll get used to it.”
They talked for nearly thirty minutes. Oena described the company that had hired him, the small apartment he was temporarily sharing with another Nigerian worker, and the busy streets of the city.
Before ending the call, his voice softened.
“I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
“Once I settle down, I’ll start sending money.”
“You don’t need to rush.”
“I want to.”
Chidinma smiled warmly. “You’re already doing enough.”
They said goodbye reluctantly. But after the call ended, Chidinma felt stronger. Even though they were separated by thousands of miles, their connection remained strong.
A few weeks later, Chidinma moved into Oena’s family house. Before leaving for America, Oena had insisted on it.
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