The morning sunlight spread over the village. Olivia awoke to a curious feeling of readiness. Having made it past her first actual disaster when the classes had flooded, she did not feel… Lagos-ready, perhaps, but village-ready, yes.
She stepped out of her hut, breathing in the earthy scent of moist soil and drying autumn leaves. Birds sang, goats bleated in the hills, and children giggled throughout the compound. It was chaos and beauty in equal measure.
This day, she had opted to implement a new approach to her class, smaller groups, games, and storytelling in order to teach English. On the previous day, she observed that children performed better when learning was a collaborative activity, and she aimed to leverage on that.
"Good morning, class!" she shouted, her tone sterner, more authoritative than earlier. Good morning, Miss Olivia!" the children shouted, their enthusiasm already to the fullest.
Olivia smiled, feeling a tiny shiver. It was a different day today. She could sense it. Those were not the rowdy children yesterday. Those children were curious, playful, and enthusiastic—but this time, she was prepared.
She divided the class and handed out assignments for a short storytelling activity. "Be sure to use your words, not your hands. Speak distinctly. Be proud of your tale." They laughed but seriously listened. Slowly, they started memorizing sentences, performing simple actions, and assisting each other when a peer forget a line. Olivia moved among them, correcting gently, applauding wholeheartedly.
Once, a young boy slipped on a roving rock and tumbled to the ground. Olivia came a-rush, hands ready to help, but the boy leaped to his feet, grinning. "I'm okay, Miss! See, I made it!" Olivia smiled.
From the doorway, Chidera observed, his arms folded. He had spoken little throughout the morning, allowing her to take the lead. When his eyes found hers, he nodded once, a nod of acceptance that trickled an unfamiliar heat to her chest.
The children were tired and exhausted but were really proud when class ended. Olivia had persevered, they had learned, and she finally had a real sense of achievement. She sat down on a bench just outside the classroom.
Chidera came, bearing a little cup of water. "You did a good job," he stated. "yes," Olivia stated, accepting the cup. "Just barely, but… perhaps more than just barely today."
He sighed sitting beside her. "You led today. Next day, who can tell? Maybe you'll manage the village as well."
Olivia smiled softly, relishing the warmth of victory as much as the weakness of tiredness. Village life is unforgiving, she thought, but maybe I'll cope.
As a free activity, Olivia walked to the village to help out with morning chores. She carried a small pile of matches, being careful not to stumble over rocks. Women nodded and smiled towards her, curious but encouraging. Miss, your hands are soft for a villager," a woman joked, laughing. "You'll toughen them up soon."
Olivia rolled her eyes and grumbled to herself. "Soft hands are a licence that I cannot afford in Lagos, it seems."
Chidera appeared, stepping lightly over a puddle. "I see you've met the village teachers already," he said. "They like teasing newcomers."
"Yes, I did," replied Olivia, readjusting her bundle. "I also noticed that they ask much."
Chidera smiled faintly, his hands deep in his pockets. "That's how you gain respect here. You withstand teasing, you grind, and you slowly you fit in."
Olivia frowned, but she derived a tiny shiver from his appeasing reassurance. There was something annoyingly effortless about him.
By the afternoon, she assisted the children in a miniature village project:,creating a mini-garden plot near the classroom. Mud oozed between her toes, and a loose chicken scratched her fingers once, but she laughed and continued. Chidera was present as well, directing the children, teasing Olivia periodically about being stubborn.
"You have spirit," he stated. "But I'm seriously wondering if stubbornness isn't more powerful than spirit in your situation."
Olivia shot him a teasing glance. "Cut it out. I'm learning!"
He shook his head, grinning. "You are, but you'll survive faster if you laugh at yourself sometimes."
By evening, they sat outside the classroom door, observing children at play. Olivia felt an unsettling calm. She found that she was starting to like the teasing, the instructing, and even the dusty, unforgiving village existence.
Night descended, and stillness covered the village. Olivia went back to her hut, tired but full. She sat just outside, observing the fireflies spin and the noises in the distance from the river.
Chidera entered, bearing a little lamp and a tray of food. "You made it through your first complete day alone," said he, handing her the tray.
"I did, I reckon," she stammered, flushing. "I don't know if I believe it, but… I did."
He sat next to her, not saying a thing right away. Olivia looked at him. His energy was soothing, earthy, and reassuring in a manner that she didn't expect.
"You're getting the hang of this," he whispered. "Teaching, staying alive… even having a laugh about village life." Olivia pushed a smile back, feeling warmth she couldn't really explain. "Thanks," she whispered.
Chidera smiled thinly. "You're welcome. Don't get too comfortable receiving the compliments, anyway. It'll be tougher tomorrow." Olivia smiled. "Good. I think I'm ready."
As they ate in companionable silence, Olivia realized that village life, though harsh and exhausting, was slowly changing her. She felt capable, resilient, and—strangely—connected. And Chidera, quietly beside her, was part of that connection.
For the first time since she'd been there, she wasn't just surviving. she was beginning to live.
And perhaps, just perhaps, she was beginning to perceive him as something that had nothing to do with surviving.