Tears traced paths through the dust on the young girl’s cheeks as she walked. The morning sun, already warm, seemed to mock her despair. Her name was Naomi, and the school fees she carried so carefully were gone. She had tucked the money securely into her school bag, but in her frantic rush to beat the closing school gate, she’d forgotten to zip the main compartment. Somewhere along the bustling roadside, the envelope must have slipped out, vanishing without a trace. Passersby glanced at the weeping child, their expressions a mix of curiosity and pity, but no one stopped.
From within the shaded confines of a small, makeshift shoemaker’s shed, an old man looked up from his work. His name was Johnson, and his life was a daily struggle, measured by the few coins earned from polishing worn-out shoes and crafting new ones by hand. The sight of the girl’s profound sorrow tugged at a deep, paternal place in his heart. He set down his hammer and stood, his own joints aching, and moved toward her. “My child,” he called out, his voice gentle and raspy. “Why are you crying like this?” Naomi wiped her face with the back of her hand, her small shoulders shaking. “Sir, I’ve lost my school fees,” she managed between sobs. “I don’t know how it happened. I’ve searched everywhere, but it’s gone.”
He took a step closer. “Calm down, my daughter. Tell me what happened.” The words tumbled out of Naomi as she explained her predicament. “I live with my mother and my stepfather. My mother was a teacher, but she lost her job. My stepfather is the one who feeds us now, and he is very strict. He gave me the money this morning and told me not to come back home without the school receipt. If I return without it… he will deal with me harshly.
He might even send my mother and me away from the house for good.” Johnson listened, his heart breaking. He didn’t have much—in fact, the small bundle of notes tucked in his pocket was all he had managed to save that entire month. It was meant for his own overdue rent. But as he looked at Naomi’s terrified face, he didn’t hesitate. “How much is the school fees?” he asked softly.
“Four thousand naira,” she replied, her voice barely a whisper. Johnson reached into the pocket of his faded trousers and pulled out the worn roll of bills. It was everything. Slowly, deliberately, he placed the money into her open palm. “Here, take it,” he said, offering a weak but kind smile. “Go and pay your school fees.” Naomi’s eyes widened in stunned disbelief. “Sir, are you sure?” “Yes, my child,” he nodded. “You remind me of my own grandson at home. Be serious with your studies. Stay away from bad influences.
One day, you will be a great person.” Clutching the money tightly, Naomi wiped her tears away. “Thank you, sir. I promise I will make you proud. When I become successful, I will never forget you. I will find you and help you.” Johnson smiled and nodded. “Make sure you don’t forget my name. They call me Ogre Johnson.” “I won’t,” she vowed. He placed a gentle, calloused hand on her head and whispered a quiet prayer for her safety and success. Then he turned and walked back to his small shed, his stomach empty but his spirit strangely light. Naomi ran towards the school, and just before she disappeared from view, she looked back and whispered into the air, “God bless that man.”
When Naomi arrived home that evening, she was exhausted but carried a sliver of calm within her. She had paid the fees and the receipt was safely in her bag. Her mother was sitting on a low bench, her face etched with the usual lines of worry and stress. “Welcome,” her mother said. “Did you pay the school fees?” Naomi nodded slowly. “Yes, Mom, I did.” A visible wave of relief washed over her mother. “Good. That’s one less problem for us. Let me see the receipt.” Naomi handed it over, but then her gaze dropped to the floor. “Mom, I have to tell you something.” Her mother frowned. “What is it?” Naomi swallowed hard. “I lost the money on my way to school today.” Her mother’s face transformed instantly, her relief replaced by pure panic. “What? You did what?” “I lost it, Mom. I don’t know how. I had it in my school bag, but it was gone. I searched everywhere. I was crying,” Naomi explained in a rushed, fearful tone. Her mother’s voice rose sharply. “Naomi, how could you be so careless? Do you have any idea what that money means to this family?
Your stepfather will starve us again! He warned me. He’ll say I’m useless. He might even throw us out onto the street!” Fresh tears welled in Naomi’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to. I was so scared I thought about not even coming home.” Her mother turned away, breathing heavily, trying to contain her fury and fear. “But then someone helped me,” Naomi added quietly. Her mother turned back, her expression shifting from anger to confusion. “Who?” A small smile broke through Naomi’s tears. “A man. He’s a shoemaker by the roadside. He saw me crying and asked what was wrong. I told him everything, and he gave me four thousand naira. He said it was the last money he had, but he didn’t mind. He told me to be serious in school and to stay away from bad friends.” Her mother blinked, trying to process this. “Wait, he just gave you the money? Just like that?” Naomi nodded. “Yes, he was so kind. He said his name is Ogre Johnson.”
A heavy silence filled the room. Then, Naomi’s mother sat down slowly, as if her legs could no longer support her. “God bless that man,” she whispered, her own eyes growing damp. “A stranger helped my daughter when even we had nothing. Naomi, we must go and thank him. This kind of kindness is rare.” Naomi’s smile widened. “Yes, Mom. I want to thank him, too. I promised him I wouldn’t forget him. When I become rich, I’ll look for him and help him.” Her mother placed a hand on her shoulder. “And I believe you will, daughter. God will help you.”
While Naomi and her mother were making plans to visit Johnson, a catastrophe was already unfolding in his world. That same morning, he was sitting quietly in his roadside shed, a few handmade slippers arranged on his small table. Business was slow, but he clung to the hope that a customer would soon appear. Suddenly, loud, aggressive noises shattered the calm. People began shouting and running. Big, intimidating trucks rolled down the road, accompanied by men in official-looking uniforms.
One of them held a megaphone to his mouth, his voice booming. “All roadside stalls and sheds must be removed! This is government land! You were warned!” Before Johnson could even begin to gather his belongings, the men started tearing his shed apart. His carefully crafted shoes and slippers, along with the repairs entrusted to him by customers, were sent flying, scattering across the dusty ground. His old, patched umbrella was tossed aside like garbage. “Please, wait!” he begged. “Let me pack my goods!” No one paid him any mind. They pushed and pulled, and within minutes, the wooden structure that was his livelihood was reduced to a pile of splinters.
Johnson stood there, his eyes stinging with unshed tears, watching everything he owned be destroyed. “Where will I sell now?” he whispered to himself, his voice cracking. “How will I feed my grandson?” The women who had stalls nearby were also crying and pleading, but it was useless. The trucks had already moved on, leaving a trail of devastation.
Carrying his small hammer, the only tool he had managed to hold onto, Johnson began the slow, heavy walk home under the relentless sun. His slippers were covered in dust, his heart weighed down by a crushing despair. All he could think of was how to break the news to his grandson, Andrew. But as he turned the corner onto his street, he stopped dead. Andrew was already outside their small room, crying. Their few bags and meager belongings were piled unceremoniously outside the gate. The landlady, a stout woman with a stern expression, stood over them with a look of cold satisfaction. “Ogre Johnson,” she said, her voice dripping with finality. “I told you. I warned you.
You have not paid rent for a year and six months. I’m tired of your excuses. You and your grandson must leave. Now.” Johnson’s mouth fell open, but no sound came out. He rushed to Andrew’s side. “Andrew, are you okay?” The boy nodded, wiping his tears with a dirty sleeve. “Grandpa, they threw everything out. I begged them to wait for you, but they refused.” Johnson turned back to the woman, his hands clasped in a gesture of supplication. “Please, just a little more time. I just lost my stall today. I don’t even know where to go, please.” But the woman simply turned her back. “I have new tenants coming. I don’t run a charity home. I have children to feed and bills to pay.
Go and sleep on the street if you like.” She walked back inside and slammed the gate shut. Johnson and Andrew sat down beside their scattered bags as the sun began to set. People passed by; some glanced their way, others whispered amongst themselves, but nobody stopped to help. Johnson held his grandson close. “I’m sorry, my child,” he said, his voice trembling. “I tried. I really tried.”
Andrew rested his head on his grandfather’s shoulder. “I know, Grandpa. You’re the best grandfather in the world. God will help us.” Johnson looked up at the darkening sky, his lips moving in a silent prayer. “God, I don’t regret helping that little girl. If I had to choose again, I’d still give her my last money. I just need a miracle now.”
That night, they slept on the cold, hard ground beside their bags. There was no food, no roof over their heads, no light to push back the darkness. Yet, in the depths of his heart, Johnson still clung to a fragile thread of hope.
The next morning, they woke up stiff and hungry. The cold from the ground had seeped into their bones. Johnson sat quietly for a long moment, then turned to Andrew. “My son,” he said, gently tapping the boy’s shoulders. “We cannot stay here like this. Let’s go to the next city. My old friend Simon lives there. Maybe he can help us.” Andrew nodded, his trust in his grandfather absolute. Johnson sold their small, battered television set, and with the little money it fetched, he bought two bus tickets. It was just enough to get them to the nearby city. They sat at the back of the old, crowded bus, clutching their bags tightly. The journey felt endless, but Johnson spent the time staring out the window, sending silent prayers heavenward. When they arrived, they walked slowly to the street where Simon lived. Johnson hadn’t seen his friend in years, but he remembered the house.
He knocked on the gate gently, his heart pounding with a mixture of hope and fear. After a few seconds, the gate creaked open, and there stood Simon, his face a canvas of shock and disbelief. “Simon?” Johnson asked, his voice tentative. “What? Johnson, is that you? Why do you look like this?” Simon gasped, pulling the gate wide open. “Come in, my brother! Come in quickly!” A profound sadness filled Johnson’s eyes as he embraced his old friend. “My brother, we have lost everything. Government officials demolished my shed yesterday. Then, when I got home, our landlady had thrown us out. We slept outside with our bags last night.” Simon brought them inside, gave them water, and sat them down.
Then he shook his head, a look of amazement spreading across his face. “Johnson, you are lucky. You came at the perfect time. My wife and I are relocating this weekend to the new house my son built for us in Abuja. I was just about to return the key to the landlord to collect our one-year advance rent back.” Johnson looked confused. “What do you mean?” “I mean the rent on this house is already paid for!” Simon said, smiling warmly. “You can stay here. Just take over the place. I will speak to the landlord to change the name on the agreement. You don’t have to pay anything yet.” Johnson’s hands flew to his mouth. “Ah, Simon, you want to give me your house just like that?” “Yes, Johnson. You’re my friend and you need help. Do you remember when my mother was sick, how you sold your only phone to help me with her hospital bill? God must have sent you here today.” Johnson fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face. “Thank you, thank you. God will bless you, my brother. He will reward you richly. You don’t know what this means to us.” “Wait,” Simon added, “I’m not done. I also have a small amount of money I saved for emergencies.
You can use it to start another shoemaking stall. It should be enough to buy the leather you need and to pay for Andrew’s school fees, too.” Johnson broke down completely. He held his friend’s hands tightly. “You don’t know what you’ve done for me. Just yesterday I had nothing. Now I have a roof and a new start. God will bless you, my brother. You will never lack.” Simon smiled softly. “That’s what friends are for. You helped me once when I was in need. It’s my turn now.” For the first time in days, Andrew smiled. “Thank you, sir,” he said. “I’ll study hard and make you proud.”
Three days later, Naomi reminded her mother of their plan. “Mum, we promised to thank him. Let’s go today.” Her mother agreed. “Yes, my daughter. A person like that deserves our gratitude.” They took a bus to the street where Naomi had met the kind shoemaker. But when they arrived, they were met with a scene of utter desolation. The entire row of small stalls and sheds was gone, completely demolished. The land was empty, littered with broken wood, scattered baskets, and torn umbrellas. It was eerily quiet, with no one around to answer their questions. Naomi’s heart sank into her stomach. “Mum, this is where he sat. This was his shed. What happened?” Her mother surveyed the destruction. “It must be that government demolition we heard about.
They have sent all of them away. But how do we find him now?” Naomi looked around desperately, hoping to see a familiar face or someone who knew him, but the place was deserted. Defeated, they turned and walked back home. As they entered their compound, Naomi’s stepfather was waiting at the door, his arms folded tightly across his chest. “Where have you two been all this time?” he asked, his voice sharp and accusing. Naomi’s mother answered calmly. “We went to look for the man who helped Naomi pay her school fees.” “What man?” he asked, his frown deepening. She explained the entire story. “Naomi lost the school fees. A poor shoemaker helped her.
He gave her his last money. We went to thank him, but we couldn’t find him.” The man burst into a harsh, mocking laugh. “What a nice story. And you expect me to believe that? You left this house since morning to go and thank a man? Are you not ashamed of yourselves?” Naomi stepped forward. “But it’s true, sir. He really helped me.” “Shut up!” he shouted, cutting her off. “Your mother is cheating on me with that man! That’s why she went there this morning. Look at you both. Like mother, like daughter.” Naomi’s mother was stunned. “How can you say that? I’m telling you the truth. He helped your own stepdaughter. Why are you thinking such evil?” “Leave my house!” he screamed, his face contorted with rage. “I’m tired of taking care of two foolish people. Both of you are a liability to me.
You and your liar of a daughter should just go and live with that shoemaker boyfriend of yours.” Before they could utter another word, he stormed into the house and started hurling their clothes and few belongings out the door. “Out! Get out of my house!” They stood there, frozen in a state of confusion, shame, and speechless horror. Naomi’s mother slowly gathered their scattered bags. She had no energy left to argue. They walked down the street, not knowing where to go, until they found a small store with a bench outside. The shopkeeper, a kind-faced man, took pity on them and allowed them to rest there.
As they sat in stunned silence, a man who was dressed in tattered, almost mad-looking clothes, approached Naomi’s mother. “Mama,” he said calmly, “you fit find me something to buy water?” All she had left was five hundred naira, a pittance that had to last them who-knew-how-long. Yet, moved by a compassion she didn’t fully understand, she gave him two hundred naira from it. “Thank you, Mama,” he said, his demeanor brightening. “See, I get something for you.”
He pulled out a small, crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. “Take it,” he said with a genuine smile. “This is my raffle draw ticket. I want you to have it, Mama. You will become a millionaire soon.” Naomi’s mother took the ticket and whispered to herself, “Just like that.” She didn’t really believe it, but something, perhaps a faint flicker of hope, made her tuck the ticket safely into her own pocket.
Several days later, Naomi’s mother was on her way back from a grueling day at the market, where she helped women fetch water for a few meager coins to buy food. She passed by a shop displaying raffle draw results. Her eyes caught the sign, and she suddenly remembered the ticket from the man on the street. More out of curiosity than hope, she walked slowly into the shop to check. The shop owner took the crumpled paper from her, his eyes scanning the numbers. Suddenly, he shouted, “Wait, Ma! This is it! This is the winning number!” Naomi’s mother was completely confused. “What do you mean?” “You’ve won! You won the jackpot!” the man exclaimed, jumping up and down with excitement. “You’ve won one hundred million naira!” She stood there, frozen to the spot, unable to process the words. “One hundred what? One hundred million?”
The shop owner repeated himself, beaming. “You’re a rich woman now!” Naomi’s mother began to shake uncontrollably. Her knees felt like water. She stumbled to the nearest chair and held her head in her hands. Tears, a torrent of shock, past pain, and overwhelming joy, began to fall from her eyes. “God,” she cried, “that man was sent by you. Is this really happening to me?” In a single moment, her entire world had turned around. No more hunger. No more shame. No more sleeping outside.
Fifteen years passed. Naomi was no longer the little girl who cried by the roadside. She had grown into a beautiful, elegant, and confident young woman. She was now the only daughter of a billionaire. After her mother’s incredible win, their lives had transformed completely. They moved into a large house, started a successful business, and through shrewd management and hard work, their wealth had multiplied. Naomi did not squander this second chance. She studied hard, attended university, and upon graduating, launched her own company. It quickly became one of the fastest-growing enterprises in the country.
She was known for her intelligence, her humble demeanor, and her generous heart. But through all the success and the years, one memory remained vivid: the man who had helped her. Every year, on the anniversary of that fateful day, she would sit quietly in her office and remember the poor shoemaker who had given her his last money. She had searched for him countless times, but no one could tell her where he had gone after the demolition. Still, Naomi never gave up hope. She kept a silent vow to herself: “One day I will find him. I must find him.”
Meanwhile, in a small, faraway town, Johnson and his grandson Andrew were still facing hardships. Life had not been easy. The money from his friend Simon had helped them get back on their feet for a while, but eventually, they found themselves starting over, again and again. They lived in a single small room at the back of an old compound. Johnson had managed to open another small shoe stall by the roadside.
His back ached constantly now, and his eyesight wasn’t as sharp as it used to be, but he kept working, driven by love for his grandson. Andrew had grown into a handsome, respectful, and hardworking young man. He had graduated from university a year prior, but despite applying to countless companies and attending numerous interviews, a good job remained elusive. To make ends meet, he took on petty jobs and often worked alongside his grandfather, mastering the skill of shoemaking. Each morning, he would put on an old apron and sit beside Johnson, crafting and polishing. Some days they sold enough to eat a decent meal; other days, they returned home with empty pockets. “Grandpa, don’t worry,”
Andrew would often say, his optimism unwavering. “I believe our story will change one day.” Johnson would offer a weak smile and a nod. “I know, my son. God is watching.” But inwardly, he was consumed with worry. He wished with all his heart that he could provide a better life for Andrew. One evening, as they were packing up their tools under a setting sun, Johnson sat down with a heavy sigh. “Andrew, do you still remember that little girl, the one who was about your age? The one I helped so many years ago?” Andrew smiled. “Yes, Grandpa. You’ve told me that story many times.” “I wonder where she is now,” Johnson said softly, a distant look in his eyes. “I hope she’s doing well.”
It was a bright Saturday morning. Johnson had gone to the market to buy leather for a custom order, leaving Andrew to mind the stall. Andrew was quietly polishing a customer’s shoe when a sleek, black car with tinted windows pulled to a stop a few feet away. The window slid down silently, and a woman stepped out with an air of effortless grace. Her perfume, a subtle and expensive scent, momentarily overpowered the familiar smells of leather and polish. She was elegant, dressed in a flowing black and gold caftan with intricate floral patterns. Gold earrings glinted at her ears, and her gold high heels clicked decisively against the rough ground. She sighed softly and walked towards his stall. “Good afternoon,” she said, her voice calm and refined. Andrew looked up, momentarily startled. “Good afternoon, Ma,” he replied, quickly wiping his hands on a small rag and offering a polite smile. She lifted her foot slightly. “Please, can you help me fix this buckle? It came off just now.” “Of course, Ma,” he said. “Let me take a look.”
He carefully took the expensive shoe, his rough, skilled fingers working with gentle precision. In just a few minutes, he had the small strap securely fastened back into place. She had watched him quietly, noting his focus, his calm demeanor, and the obvious care he took in his work. There was an honesty about him, a cleanliness of spirit that was rare. “How much do I owe you?” she asked. He offered a faint smile. “Ah, no need, Ma. It was a small thing. You can go, Ma.” Her eyebrows rose in mild surprise. “You’re not going to charge me?” He shook his head. “No, Ma. You looked like you were in a hurry. I just wanted to help.” The woman smiled, a genuine, warm expression. “That’s rare these days, to find someone who does something without expecting anything in return.” She paused, letting her gaze sweep over his humble wooden stall. “How long have you been doing this work?” “Since I graduated from the university, Ma,” he said quietly. “I’ve been looking for a job for over a year now. Nothing has come through, so I joined my grandfather in his business instead of staying idle.” She nodded slowly, her eyes softening with understanding. “What’s your name?” “My name is Andrew, Ma.” “Andrew,” she repeated, as if tasting the name. “You speak well. You’re polite, and you seem very trustworthy.” He smiled shyly. “Thank you, Ma.” There was a brief, comfortable silence before she spoke again, her tone becoming more decisive. “I’ve been searching for a new driver. Someone honest and calm.
Most people I meet these days are either careless or have too much pride. But you… you seem different.” Andrew blinked, unsure if he had heard correctly. “A driver, Ma?” “Yes,” she said firmly. “I can train you myself if you don’t know all the routes. I’ll pay you well, and you’ll have a place to stay on the property. I just want someone I can trust.” His heart began to pound against his ribs. “Are you serious, Ma?” “Very serious,” she said, her smile warm and reassuring. “Thank you, Ma,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t know what this means to me.” She reached into her handbag, pulled out a crisp business card, and handed it to him. “My name is Madam Tina. Call me tomorrow if you’re interested. If not, I’ll understand.” He took the card with trembling fingers. “I’ll call, Ma. I promise.” Madam Tina smiled, got back into her luxurious car, and drove away slowly. The faint, elegant trace of her perfume lingered in the air long after she was gone. Andrew stood motionless beside his little stall, the card clutched tightly in his hand, his heart racing with a potent mixture of shock, joy, and disbelief.
That evening, Johnson returned from the market, looking tired and worn down by the day’s struggles. He found Andrew sitting on a wooden chair, a wide smile on his face as he hummed a favorite tune. Johnson dropped his bag of leather and looked at his grandson closely. “Andrew, what’s making you smile like that? You’re laughing like someone who just won the lottery.” Andrew stood up quickly, his excitement palpable. “Grandpa, welcome! I have good news for you.” Johnson waited, his expression curious. “A woman came to the stall today while you were away,” Andrew began, his words tumbling out. “She needed her shoe fixed, and we started talking.
Her name is Madam Tina. She’s a businesswoman from the next city.” Johnson raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Okay, go on.” “She told me she doesn’t have a husband and that her daughter is often out of the country. She said she needs someone to drive her around because her previous driver relocated. Grandpa, she offered me the job!” Johnson’s eyes widened in astonishment. “A job? Just like that? From fixing a shoe buckle to offering you a job?” “Yes, Grandpa,” Andrew replied, his smile growing even wider. “She said she liked me, that I speak well and look responsible. She said I could live in her house and that she would pay me well.” The smile vanished from Johnson’s face. He sat up straight, his posture rigid with sudden concern. “Live in her house? Andrew, don’t you know how dangerous the world can be? What if she is one of those ‘sugar mummies’ looking to take advantage of young men? I don’t trust these so-called billionaires.
You think because she wears fine clothes and drives a big car that her intentions are pure?” Andrew tried to maintain his calm. “Grandpa, please don’t think like that.” “Andrew,” Johnson snapped, his voice firm with worry, “don’t ‘grandpa’ me. You are all I have. I lost your mother in the hospital the very day you were born. She was only sixteen years old, gone because of severe bleeding. I cannot live with myself if anything happens to you.” Andrew moved closer and held his grandfather’s work-worn hands. “Grandpa, I understand your fear, but she didn’t force me. She gave me her number and told me to call her if I was interested. She didn’t even take my number. And you know I’m a man now. I have to go out there and look for a better life for both of us.” Johnson searched his grandson’s eyes, looking for any sign of doubt. “Andrew, are you sure about this? My spirit is not settled about it.” Andrew nodded with conviction. “I will ask questions when I get to her neighborhood. I’ll find out from the people who live there what she is like. If anything looks the slightest bit strange, I won’t even set foot in the house.” Johnson was quiet for a long moment.
He looked away and let out a deep, weary sigh. “If anything happens to you, I am finished.” Andrew smiled, trying to inject some cheer into the heavy atmosphere. “Grandpa, nothing will happen to me. I promise. This might be the breakthrough we’ve been praying for all these years. I don’t want to keep sitting here, waiting for a job that may never come.” Slowly, Johnson began to relax his tense shoulders. He forced a small, strained smile and whispered, “I just want you to be safe.” “I will be, Grandpa,” Andrew replied, pulling him into a tight hug. “And when I start working and getting paid, I’ll send you money. You’ll stop having to sit under this hot sun every day. You can finally rest. That’s my promise to you.” Johnson forced a more genuine smile. “Okay, my son. If your heart is at peace with it, then go.
But please, be careful. Very, very careful.” Andrew smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Grandpa. I’ll call Madam Tina first thing tomorrow.” As Andrew went into their room to find his phone, Johnson looked up at the ceiling, his eyes closing in silent prayer. “Lord, if this woman is truly sent by you, let it work out for my boy’s good. But if she means evil, let Andrew never step into that house.”
The next morning, Andrew stood outside, phone in hand. He took a deep, steadying breath and dialed the number Madam Tina had given him. His heart hammered against his chest as the line rang. “Hello?” a soft, firm voice answered. “Good morning, Ma. This is Andrew,” he said, a small smile touching his lips. “I spoke with my grandfather, and he has agreed.” “Oh, that’s wonderful news!” Madam Tina said, her voice warm with pleasure. “Thank you for calling. I’ll send my address to you now. When you get to the estate gate, just call me.” “Thank you, Ma. I’ll be on my way shortly.” After the call, Andrew rushed back inside. “Grandpa, I’m going now.” Johnson stood at the door, his eyes filled with a profound love and an equally profound worry. He placed a gentle hand on Andrew’s head and prayed aloud for his protection and guidance. “God will go with you. Don’t forget a single thing I told you.
Keep your eyes open and don’t let your guard down for a moment.” “I will, Grandpa. I promise.” Andrew packed a small bag with his few belongings, hugged his grandfather one more time, and left for the bus park. The ride took nearly two hours, but his excitement made the time pass quickly. When he arrived at the imposing estate gate, a tall, stern-faced security guard was waiting. “Are you Mr. Andrew?” “Yes,” he replied. “Come with me. Madam Tina is expecting you.” When they reached Madam Tina’s compound, Andrew’s eyes widened in awe. The house was a masterpiece of modern architecture, large and breathtakingly beautiful. Lush flowers lined the pristine walkway, and the gate was a brilliant, gleaming white.
It looked like a house straight out of a film. Madam Tina herself came out to welcome him. “You’re welcome, Andrew. Come in, come in. This will be your new home.” Andrew smiled, still taking in the splendor. “Thank you, Ma. This place is… beautiful.” She led him inside and showed him to a clean, spacious, and surprisingly luxurious room, complete with a comfortable bed, a wardrobe, and a large mirror. “You’ll stay here, and the parking lot is just beside the swimming pool,” Madam Tina said, smiling. “Don’t worry, Andrew. Just be yourself. I treat everyone who works for me like family. Be honest and drive carefully, that’s all I ask.” Andrew nodded humbly. “Yes, Ma. Thank you very much.” He started work that very day. He took some of the cars to the mechanic for check-ups, then to the car wash, and meticulously arranged the keys on a small wooden table in the garage. Within a week, Madam Tina’s trust in him was absolute. He was always punctual, impeccably polite, and never spoke out of turn.
Two weeks later, an unexpected event occurred. Madam Tina’s only daughter, Naomi, returned home from an extended business trip abroad. Andrew was in the driveway, carefully polishing one of the cars, when she stepped out. She was tall, elegant, and seemed to glow in a perfectly fitted cream-colored suit. Her voice was soft, yet it carried a natural air of authority when she said, “Good morning.” Andrew froze for a split second, captivated. “Good morning, Ma,” he said, bowing his head slightly in respect. She tilted her head, studying him with a curious expression. “You must be the new driver my mother told me about.” “Yes, Ma. My name is Andrew.” “Nice to meet you, Andrew,” she said, offering a faint, polite smile before walking into the house. That afternoon, Madam Tina called for Andrew. “Please drive my daughter to her office for an urgent meeting. She’ll give you the address.” “Yes, Ma.” Minutes later, Naomi emerged, now dressed in a sophisticated navy blue dress and carrying a small handbag. Andrew moved to open the back door for her respectfully, but she smiled and shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I’ll sit in the front.
I don’t like having to shout instructions from the back seat.” He smiled awkwardly. “Okay, Ma.” The drive was quiet at first, the gentle hum of the car’s engine accompanied by the soft strains of Afro-soul music from the radio. Then, as they approached a busy roundabout, a reckless motorcyclist suddenly swerved directly into their lane. Andrew’s reaction was instantaneous and calm. He turned the steering wheel with sharp precision, bringing the car to a smooth, controlled stop just in time to avoid a collision. Naomi gasped, her hand flying to her chest. “Oh, my God.” Andrew’s breathing remained steady. “Sorry, Ma. I saw him early enough. You’re safe.” She turned slowly to look at him, truly looking at him for the first time. The calm in his voice, the steadiness of his hands on the wheel—it was deeply impressive. For a moment, she was at a loss for words.
There was something about the way he had handled the situation, so protective yet so completely gentle. “Thank you,” she said softly, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. When they reached her office building, she hesitated before getting out of the car. “You’re a very careful driver,” she remarked. “Most men would have panicked or gotten angry.” He smiled. “It’s my job to keep my passengers safe, Ma.” Days turned into weeks, and every morning, Naomi found herself looking forward to their drives together. She began asking him to join her for lunch. She inquired about his day, his family, and even his dreams for the future. He would answer gently, always respectful, yet there was a warmth and intelligence in his responses that she found captivating. Sometimes she would laugh at his simple, witty jokes, surprised by how peaceful and content she felt in his company.
One afternoon, they were caught in a sudden, heavy downpour. Stuck in traffic, they watched the raindrops dance and stream across the windshield. Naomi turned slightly in her seat, watching how the soft, diffused light played across his profile. “Andrew,” she said suddenly, “do you ever wish for more in life?” He glanced at her briefly before returning his eyes to the road. “Yes, Ma. But I also thank God for what I have now. It’s a starting point.” She smiled, a quiet, lingering smile that reached her eyes. “That’s a rare perspective. Most people I meet only seem to know how to complain.” He shrugged lightly. “Complaining doesn’t fix anything, Ma. It only makes the burden heavier.” She nodded slowly, feeling a strange and wonderful warmth spread through her chest.
She didn’t know what it was—his calm voice, his inherent humility, or the quiet peace she saw in his eyes—but something within her was shifting, softening. When they finally reached her office, she sat still for a few moments longer, pretending to scroll through her phone just to prolong their time together. “Thank you for the ride, Andrew,” she finally said. “You’re welcome, Ma,” he replied, smiling that gentle, genuine smile of his. As she stepped out into the soft drizzle, she realized with a jolt that she had never felt this alive, this truly seen, with any of the wealthy, polished men she had met in her life.
The following weekend, Madam Tina gave Andrew permission to visit his grandfather. “Go and see him,” she said kindly. “I’m sure he misses you. You can take one of the SUVs.” Andrew was thrilled. He packed a bag with groceries and a gift he had bought for his grandfather with his first salary—a new, handsome kaftan and a pair of quality leather shoes. When he arrived, his grandfather rushed out and hugged him tightly. “My son! You’re looking fresh and well. God has done it!” Andrew laughed, the sound full of joy. “Grandpa, I missed you so much.” Inside the small room, Johnson served him a generous portion of spicy jollof rice and stew, just the way Andrew liked it, and they sat down to talk. “Grandpa,”
Andrew began, a shy smile playing on his lips, “I need to tell you something.” Johnson looked up from his plate. “What is it?” “There’s a girl. She is Madam Tina’s daughter.” Andrew’s smile widened. “She’s stunning, Grandpa. So respectful, and funny, and kind, and…” Johnson asked, folding his arms across his chest with a knowing look. “And?” “And I think… I think I’m falling in love with her.” Johnson’s eyes widened in surprise. “Andrew, you’re falling in love?” Andrew nodded, his expression a mixture of hope and nervousness. “Yes, Grandpa. I haven’t told her yet. I’m afraid to. I don’t even know if she feels the same way. But there’s something about her, the way she looks at me, the way she talks to me, the little ways she takes care of me…” Johnson’s stern expression melted into a slow, understanding smile. “Love is a beautiful thing, my son, but you must be careful.
Don’t rush into it. Look well before you leap.” “I’m not rushing, Grandpa,” Andrew assured him. “I’m just… I can’t explain it. My heart feels so soft every time I see her. It’s like it knows something my head doesn’t.” Johnson let out a gentle, rumbling laugh. “That, my boy, is exactly how love starts.” “Grandpa,” Andrew whispered, his voice suddenly vulnerable, “what if she doesn’t love me back?” Johnson reached out and placed a firm, reassuring hand on his grandson’s shoulder. “Then, my son, you pray. If it is truly from God, it will happen. No man can stop what God has planned for your life.” Andrew smiled and nodded, his heart feeling suddenly lighter, filled with a blooming, hopeful warmth.
Far away, in her spacious room within the big house, Naomi was lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling. A slow smile spread across her face as she whispered to herself. “This man, Andrew… there’s something so special about him. I think… I think I’m in love with him.” She sat up, watching as the flowers in the garden outside her window swayed gently in the evening breeze. Her heart was full to bursting, but her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. She had never felt this way before—not during her extensive travels, not in high-stakes business meetings, not at any of the lavish parties she had attended. The name ‘Andrew’ had quietly taken over her every thought, her every heartbeat, her every dream. She walked into the living room, where her mother was sipping tea and reading a financial magazine. “Mum,” she said, standing before her. Madam Tina looked up, instantly sensing her daughter’s mood. “Naomi, you look… worried. Is everything alright?” Naomi took a deep, steadying breath. “Mum, I’m in love with Andrew.” Madam Tina smiled, a knowing, pleased smile, and placed her cup down on the table. “I knew it.” “You knew?” Naomi asked, her surprise evident. Madam Tina laughed softly. “Of course, I did.
A mother sees these things. I see the way you blush whenever he’s around. The way you find excuses to follow him on errands, like a little lost puppy.” Naomi chuckled, then nodded in admission. “Yes, Mum. I love him. I want to marry him.” Her mother stood up and took both of Naomi’s hands in her own. “My daughter, you have chosen well. He is a God-fearing man. He is respectful, well brought up, hard-working, intelligent, and let’s not forget, very handsome. Who wouldn’t want a son-in-law like him? After all, money is not an issue in this family. God has blessed us abundantly, and we must never look down on someone because of their current financial status.” Naomi smiled, a wave of relief washing over her. “Thank you, Mum.” But then she paused, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I don’t want to be the one to tell him, though. He’s the man. If he feels the same way, then he should say it first.” Madam Tina laughed again, a rich, happy sound. “That is correct, my daughter. A responsible woman never chases after a man. Let him be the one to speak.”
The next day, Andrew returned from his visit. To him, Naomi looked even more beautiful, as if she had been bathed in a new light of love and joy during his absence. He entered the house, and Naomi immediately offered to help him with one of his bags. “Welcome back,” she said, her smile warm and inviting. “Thank you, Ma,” he replied out of habit. “No, no more of this ‘Ma’,” she said, playfully chiding him. “Just call me Naomi.” He smiled, a real, easy smile. “Okay, boss lady Naomi.” They both laughed, the sound easy and comfortable. Then, Andrew felt a surge of courage. “Naomi, can we talk, please? Just for five minutes.” “Of course,” she said, feeling a flutter of butterflies take flight in her stomach. He led her to the small, beautifully maintained garden at the back of the house. Flowers of every color were in full, glorious bloom. Birds sang their evening songs from the trees, and the sky was painted in soft shades of orange and purple.
Andrew turned to face her, looking directly into her eyes. “Naomi,” he began, his voice shaking slightly with emotion. “I know this might sound funny, or surprising, or even foolish to you, but I can’t keep it inside me any longer.” Naomi stood perfectly still, her heart hammering so loudly she was sure he could hear it. “I am deeply in love with you,” he confessed. “From the very first day I saw you step out of that cab—the way you moved, the way you smiled, the way you showed care and kindness—I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You’ve completely stolen my heart, and I don’t want it back.” He continued, his words pouring out in an earnest rush. “Life is too short, and I know you are far, far out of my league. I know I might even lose my job for saying this, but I just can’t keep this feeling bottled up anymore. I had to know if you, by any chance, feel the same way about me. Please don’t say no.” For a long, breathless moment, there was only silence.
Naomi stood frozen, absorbing every word. Then, slowly, she stepped closer to him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears and full of deep emotion. “Andrew,” she said, her voice soft and clear. “From the first day I saw you, I fell for you, too.” “Why?” Andrew asked, utterly surprised. She smiled, a beautiful, radiant smile. “Because I’m a woman, and it’s the man’s duty to say ‘I love you’ first, not the woman’s.” Andrew laughed, tears of sheer joy and relief forming in the corners of his eyes. “So all this time, you loved me too?” Naomi nodded, her own happiness overflowing. “Yes, I did. I just didn’t know if you felt the same way.” Andrew reached out and gently took her hands in his. “I do, Naomi. With all my heart.” He pulled her into a warm, secure embrace, and the flowers around them seemed to sway in celebration. The wind blew softly through the trees, as if applauding their newfound love. Inside the house, Madam Tina glanced out the window, saw them holding each other, and smiled a deep, contented smile.
And somewhere far away, in his small room, Johnson knelt beside his bed in prayer. “Lord,” he whispered, “wherever my grandson is right now, please, let him be happy.” He had no idea that his grandson was, at that very moment, walking directly into the answered prayer he had carried for so long.
A few days later, Andrew said to Naomi, “I would like us to go and visit my grandfather. I want him to meet the woman who has stolen his grandson’s heart. I want him to meet his soon-to-be daughter-in-law.” Naomi smiled sweetly and nodded without hesitation. “I’ll be happy to meet him, too.” That Saturday morning, they both dressed simply but neatly. Naomi felt a calm exterior, but her heart was beating a nervous rhythm. They were on their way to meet Johnson, Andrew’s grandfather. “Are you nervous?” Andrew asked her, holding her hand reassuringly. Naomi chuckled. “A little. I’ve never met the parent of someone I love in this context before.” Andrew laughed, squeezing her hand. “Relax, he’s going to love you. Just be yourself.”
When they reached the humble neighborhood where his grandfather lived, Andrew looked around, a familiar fondness in his eyes. The area was quiet, a place of simple, hardworking people. They knocked gently on the weathered wooden door, and when there was no answer, Andrew pushed it open. They stepped into the small, tidy living room and sat down on a simple brown sofa. The air smelled of home—warm, lived-in, and real. “Is your grandfather around?” Naomi asked, looking around the modest space. “I think he stepped out to buy something from the corner shop,” Andrew replied. “But he’ll be back soon.”
A few minutes later, the front door creaked open. Johnson walked in slowly, carrying a small black nylon bag. He looked tired, but his face brightened the moment he saw Andrew. “My son! You didn’t tell me you were coming today!” he said, his voice full of happy surprise. Andrew stood up to welcome him. “Grandpa, I wanted it to be a surprise. I brought someone with me.” Johnson turned his gaze to Naomi. She immediately stood and, in a gesture of deep respect, knelt slightly to greet him. “Good afternoon, sir,” she said, her voice soft and respectful. “Good afternoon, my daughter,” he replied, looking at her with warm, curious eyes. “You didn’t tell me your visitor was this beautiful,” Johnson teased, laughing heartily. He looked at Naomi for a second longer, then turned to put his bag down. But Naomi kept staring at him, her expression shifting from polite interest to intense scrutiny. Something powerful stirred deep within her—a memory, a voice from the distant past, a face she had carried in her heart for fifteen years. As Johnson turned back to face them, she took a step closer, her voice soft and a little shaky. “Sir, please. Your name? Is it Ogre Johnson?” Johnson looked confused, his smile fading into a look of puzzlement. “Yes, I am Ogre Johnson. Do we know each other?” Naomi smiled, a sad, wistful smile. “You don’t remember me, do you?” He shook his head slowly. “No, my daughter, I’m sorry. I don’t.” “Many years ago,” she began, her voice gaining strength, “I was just a little girl. I had lost my school fees and was crying by the roadside.” Johnson’s face remained still, listening intently. “I told you everything. How my stepfather would beat me if I didn’t pay the fees. You were sitting in your small shoemaker’s shed by the roadside. You listened to me. You gave me four thousand naira—your last money—and told me to be serious in school.” A small gasp escaped Johnson’s lips. “You prayed for me.
You told me to never forget you. You said your name was Ogre Johnson, and I never did. I never forgot.” His mouth slowly dropped open in stunned disbelief. “Wait… are you… are you that little girl?” Naomi nodded, tears now freely streaming down her face. “Yes, sir. I am the little girl you helped.” She stood and then knelt gently before him, taking his weathered hands in her own. “You didn’t just help me that day, sir. You gave me hope. You saved me from the shame and pain of being chased out of school and thrown out of my home. That one act of kindness changed the entire course of my life. I became who I am today because of that one moment of selfless generosity and encouragement.” Johnson’s eyes filled with tears, his hands beginning to shake in hers. He covered his mouth and sat down slowly on the sofa, utterly shocked. “My goodness. You mean… that little girl… was you?” “Yes,” Naomi said, her voice thick with emotion. “And I’ve been looking for you for years. I never, ever knew that the man I fell so deeply in love with is your own grandson.” Andrew also had tears in his eyes. He looked at his grandfather. “Grandpa, you have always spoken about her, ever since that day. You always prayed that God should guide and protect her, wherever she was.” Johnson couldn’t speak for a long moment. He just sat there, looking at Naomi’s face, his own hands trembling uncontrollably. “See how you’ve grown,” he finally whispered, his voice cracking. “See how God has lifted you up.” Naomi held his hands tighter. “And now I want to bless you the same way you blessed me.
I will be marrying your grandson, sir. I want us all to be together as one family. This isn’t just love, sir. This is destiny.” Johnson broke down completely, weeping tears of overwhelming joy and gratitude. “God, you are too faithful. You are too faithful.” He looked over at his grandson, his expression one of awe and wonder. “Andrew, you didn’t tell me you were in love with an angel.” Naomi laughed through her own happy tears. Andrew shook his head, smiling. “I didn’t even know she was the girl you helped all those years ago. I just loved her for the kind and beautiful heart she has.” Johnson smiled, a radiant, joyful smile, and looked back at Naomi. “You are welcome, my daughter. I thank God for this moment, for bringing you back to me.” They hugged each other tightly, a trio bound by fate, kindness, and love. In that small, humble room, hearts separated by time were miraculously reunited, and a beautiful, hopeful future was born.
The next morning, Naomi woke up with a single, powerful thought on her mind: Honor. She didn’t just want to marry Andrew; she wanted to honor the man whose one small act of kindness had irrevocably changed her life. Later that day, she called both Andrew and Johnson to come outside and sit in front of their house. A large car pulled up slowly, and four men emerged, carrying heavy bags of rice, cartons of food supplies, cooking oil, brand new pots and pans, and two beautifully wrapped caftans in shiny gold paper. “What is all this?” Johnson asked, his eyes wide with confusion. Naomi stood before him, smiling. “This is just the beginning, Grandpa.” One of the men then brought forward a clean, crisp brown envelope and handed it to Johnson. With trembling, hesitant hands, he opened it. Inside was a cheque, with his name printed boldly as the payee.
The amount was ten million naira. Johnson covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes bulging in disbelief. “My daughter, what is this?” “This is for you, Grandpa,” she said gently. “For everything you lost. For all the years you suffered. For the rent you couldn’t pay. For your shoemaker’s stall that was destroyed. For your last four thousand naira that you gave to a crying little girl without knowing where she was from or who she would become. You deserve this, and so much more.” Johnson burst into tears, great, heaving sobs of release and gratitude, unable to form any words.
But Naomi wasn’t finished. She turned to him again, her expression full of love and respect. “Grandpa, there’s one more thing.” She brought out another, smaller envelope and placed it in his hands. He opened it, his fingers fumbling, and found a set of shiny new keys inside, along with a stack of official-looking documents. “Those are the keys and the documents to your new house, Grandpa,” she said, kneeling before him once more in a gesture of profound respect. “A five-bedroom duplex, right here in this town. It’s fully furnished and has been paid for, in full, in your name. You will never have to pay rent again. Never.” Johnson dropped to his knees, weeping openly, his shoulders shaking. “God, God, you remembered me. You remembered me after all this time.” Andrew knelt beside him, putting a comforting arm around him. “Grandpa, this is your reward. God never forgot you. Not for a single day.”
A few weeks later, Andrew and Naomi had a beautiful garden wedding. It was a colorful, joyful celebration, simple in its elegance but overflowing with love and profound meaning. Naomi wore a stunning, flowing white dress that seemed to capture the light. Andrew stood proudly beside her, smiling from ear to ear, his heart full. Madam Tina watched her daughter, her eyes shining with pride and happiness. Johnson sat beside her, resplendent in his new, gold-embroidered kaftan, his heart so full he thought it might burst. From a poor roadside shoemaker to a homeowner and a cherished grandfather-in-law, God had truly, miraculously, lifted him up. As they danced together under the fairy lights, Andrew leaned close to Naomi and whispered, “I told you he would love you.” Naomi turned her head to look at Johnson, who was laughing and dancing with a joy he hadn’t known in decades. She smiled, a deep, contented smile, and whispered her lifelong vow once more, “He gave me his last. Now I will continue to give him my best.”
A few months later, a new chapter of joy began. Naomi gave birth to two healthy, beautiful twin boys. The large house was filled with the sounds of laughter and happy chaos. Madam Tina lifted one of the babies, smiling with grandmotherly pride. Johnson held the other, cradling him gently, tears of pure, unadulterated joy streaming down his face. “My daughter,” he said to Naomi, his voice thick with emotion, “God has doubled your blessings.” Andrew hugged Naomi tightly, his own eyes misty, and whispered into her ear, “You have made me the happiest man alive.” And in that house, filled with love, family, and the echoes of a kindness repaid a thousand-fold, they all lived happily ever after.
A single act of kindness, no matter how small, can plant a seed that grows into a lifetime of unimaginable blessings. Remember, God can use anyone to be a blessing in your life, no matter how humble they may appear.
