Then—
“Cocorocoo!”
Jackson sat up instantly. “I take it back. This chicken needs discipline.”
Outside his grandfather’s house, Jackson stretched like a man ready to conquer the world—or at least survive farming.
He picked up the cutlass again. “Today, we will not embarrass ourselves,” he told it seriously.
He swung.
Swish.
This time, the grass actually cut.
Jackson froze. “Progress.”
Just then—
“Farmer J!”
He smiled immediately.
Of course.
Ngozi appeared, glowing under the morning sun, basket on her head, energy fully charged. She stopped in front of him and squinted.
Jackson sighed. “What now?”
She walked around him slowly. “You are improving.”
Jackson smiled proudly. “Thank you.”
Then she added, “But still poor.”
Jackson choked. “Must you add that part?”
Ngozi grinned. “Motivation.”
Later that afternoon, Ngozi showed up at Jackson’s house with a pot.
Jackson raised an eyebrow. “What’s this?”
Ngozi lifted her chin proudly. “I cooked for you.”
Jackson blinked. “For me?”
“Yes. Don’t get used to it.”
Inside the small kitchen, she served the food. The aroma filled the room instantly.
Jackson inhaled deeply. “Wait… this smells like five-star hotel food.”
Ngozi folded her arms. “Of course. I am a complete package.”
Jackson took a bite, then froze, then looked at her slowly.
Ngozi leaned forward eagerly. “Yes?”
“If I marry you,” Jackson said, “I will become fat.”
Ngozi gasped dramatically. “Excuse me! My food is not for destroying people!”
Jackson laughed. “I’m serious. This is amazing.”
Ngozi smiled proudly, but tried to hide it. “Just eat quietly.”
As Jackson ate, some sauce stained his lip.
Ngozi stared, then leaned closer. “Wait.”
Jackson froze. “What?”
“You have food here.”
She moved closer.
Closer.
Then suddenly, she wiped his lip with her finger.
Silence.
Jackson’s heartbeat skipped.
Ngozi blinked, then quickly stepped back. “Ahem. Be careful next time.”
Jackson smiled softly. “Or what?”
Ngozi folded her arms, flustered. “Or I will charge you a cleaning fee.”
Jackson laughed.
Outside, the village was already talking.
Chioma and her group sat under a tree.
“I heard Ngozi is cooking for that poor farmer now.”
One scoffed. “Cooking? Next she will build a house for him.”
They laughed.
Meanwhile, an elderly woman shook her head. “That girl has chosen love over money.”
Another replied, “Or maybe she doesn’t know what money looks like.”
The next day at the farm, Ngozi was picking vegetables when a young man approached.
Tall. Confident. Too confident.
“Ngozi,” he called softly.
She turned. “Emma. What do you want?”
He smiled. “I’ve been watching you.”
Ngozi rolled her eyes. “That sounds like a crime.”
Emma stepped closer. “You deserve better. Not that farmer.”
Jackson, who was approaching from behind, heard everything. His jaw tightened.
Ngozi crossed her arms. “Better like you?”
Emma nodded proudly. “Yes. I have plans. I will travel to the city soon.”
Ngozi scoffed. “Travel to the city and do what? Become traffic?”
Jackson couldn’t hold it. He laughed.
Emma turned, annoyed. “Oh, you’re here?”
Jackson walked closer calmly. “Yes. I’m here.”
Emma smirked. “You can’t give her a good life.”
Silence.
Tension.
Jackson looked at Ngozi, then back at Emma. “Maybe not,” he said quietly. “But I make her laugh.”
Ngozi smiled instantly.
“That’s not enough,” Emma snapped.
“It is enough for me,” Ngozi replied.
Emma shook his head. “You’ll regret this.”
Ngozi stepped forward. “No. You will regret disturbing my peace.”
He left angrily.
