THE QUIET ONE:
The city of Abuja always hums. Even when it's quiet, it still feels like something is moving — cars crawling through dusty roads, distant horns, the chatter of people trying to prove they exist. I've learned to move through it like smoke, unseen, untouched, unbothered.
I'm not antisocial — I'm just selective. That's what I tell people when they ask why I'm so quiet. But truth is, I've always felt a bit disconnected, like the world was too loud for someone like me. I listen more than I speak, not because I don't have thoughts, but because I don't trust everyone with them.
At twenty-one, I've figured out one thing: silence is power. People fear what they don't understand, and I've become an expert at keeping myself unreadable.
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1. The Classroom
The lecture hall smells like marker ink and warm dust. Students talk over each other, voices bouncing off the walls like echoes in a tunnel.
I sit by the window, my seat — always the window seat. From there, I can see everything: people walking past the faculty block, the flicker of sunlight through half-broken blinds, the swirl of papers on the floor.
The lecturer's voice drones on about probability. My notebook is open, but I'm not writing much. I'm thinking. Calculating. Not numbers — life.
"Bro, you dey reason something o?"
I turn slightly. It's Toons, my guy. The only one who knows how to talk to me without making it awkward.
"Just calculating life, not formulas," I reply.
He laughs softly. "Guy, life no get answer key."
I smile — just a little. He's right. But that doesn't stop me from trying to figure it out.
Half the class isn't listening anyway. Some are scrolling through their phones. Others are whispering about relationships or money. Me? I'm watching. Studying behavior. People talk too much; they expose their weaknesses without realizing it.
When the bell rings, the room bursts alive. Everyone rushes out. I take my time packing my books, earbuds already in, a beat sliding softly into my head. Music always helps me breathe.
2. The Walk Back
The sun outside hits like fire. Abuja heat doesn't play.
I walk slow, hoodie up even though it's hot — a habit I can't break. It's like armor.
A few students greet me along the way. Some nod, others wave. I respond politely, but I keep it moving. It's not pride — I just don't do small talk anymore.
There's a tree near the gate I always stop under. The shade feels like a break from the world. Sometimes I stay there for ten minutes, just scrolling, thinking, existing quietly.
My phone buzzes — a text from Amara.
> "Hey, been a while. You okay?"
My chest tightens for a second. It's been months.
I type:
> "Yeah, I'm fine. Just been focused."
Then I delete it. Type again. Delete it again.
Finally, I lock my phone and slip it into my pocket. Some messages are better left unsent.
---
3. The Hostel
When I get back to the hostel, the place is already alive with noise — music, laughter, arguments about football.
My roommate Virgo is sprawled on his bed, earphones in, nodding to something loud. He looks up when I walk in.
"Guy, you too quiet abeg," he says, grinning. "You dey meditate?"
"Something like that," I reply, plugging in my charger.
He laughs. "You always 'something like that.' One day, you go talk finish make I understand your life small."
I smirk, not looking up. "If I talk finish, it won't be my life anymore."
He shakes his head and goes back to his music. I sit at my desk, laptop open, TikTok dashboard glowing on the screen. My streaming page. Small numbers, but consistent.
I start editing a clip from last night's live — a clutch moment in CODM. My aim was clean, smooth. People in the chat were hyped, even though there were only ten of them. I replay it a few times, watching my own reaction, the calm focus in my eyes.
That's me in my element. Alone, locked in, untouchable.
---
4. Late Night Thoughts
By midnight, Virgo is asleep, fan spinning weakly. The light from my laptop flickers across the wall. I'm still awake.
I pick up my small black notebook — Project Alpha. My personal blueprint. My rules. My reminders.
I flip to a page that reads:
"Don't beg to be understood. Move like a storm — quiet, fast, unstoppable."
That line came to me one night after Amara stopped replying.
I liked her — more than I admitted to anyone. She made things feel easy. But when things got complicated, she said I was too distant, too mysterious. She wanted more openness, more emotion.
What she didn't realize was — my silence was emotion. Just not the kind she wanted.
She left. Quietly. No fight, no drama. Just distance.
And that's when everything changed.
Pain doesn't always scream. Sometimes it just… rearranges you.
5. A Flicker of Change
Weeks passed.
Same routine: class, stream, think, repeat. But something was different inside me.
I started studying human nature like a science. Watching who talked the most, who acted humble but craved attention, who hid insecurity behind confidence. I didn't judge them — I just learned.
The more I understood people, the less I wanted to be one of them.
Toons noticed first. "Bro, you dey change o. Your vibe don shift small."
I laughed quietly. "Maybe I just stopped pretending."
He nodded slowly. "Just make sure you no lose your heart in the process."
I didn't reply, but that line stuck with me. Power without emotion is dangerous — but emotion without control is weakness. I was trying to find balance.
6. The Spark
One random evening, I'm scrolling through TikTok and I hear a voice:
> "You're not quiet. You're just loading."
I pause the video.
Something about that line hits different.
It's exactly how I feel — like my silence isn't emptiness, it's preparation.
That night, I write in my notebook:
"I'm not waiting for my moment. I'm building it."
I close the book, look in the mirror. The reflection staring back doesn't look like the same guy from last year. The eyes are sharper, calmer.
Something is shifting.
I realize I'm no longer the boy who needed people to see him. I'm becoming the man who makes people feel him without saying a word.
---
7. The Quiet Power
Weeks later, people start to notice.
I walk differently. Talk less. Focus more.
Even Amara watches my streams sometimes — never comments, but I can see her username in the viewer list.
Virgo jokes that I've turned "alpha."
He doesn't realize it's not a title — it's survival.
I've learned that power isn't loud. It's controlled. It's the ability to stay calm in chaos, to move alone and still feel complete.
So when people ask why I'm quiet these days, I just smile and say,
"I'm thinking."
They don't need to know I'm thinking about everything.
My purpose. My rise. My place in a world that never really saw me.
---
End of Chapter One: The Quiet One
Every silence has a story. Mine is just beginning.