Boston
Boston wasn't like Abuja or even the university town where Favour had studied. It smelled of oceans and books. The wind was colder, the people faster, but the silence… kinder.
She clutched the handwritten invitation as she walked toward the grey-stoned building nestled between an old library and a chapel. Women of Power Initiative was carved into a bronze plaque by the door.
Inside, she was welcomed by a slim woman in a dark turtleneck and silver braids.
"Favour Okonkwo," the woman said with a knowing smile. "We've been expecting you."
The room was lined with portraits—black women, Nigerian, Kenyan, Sudanese, Jamaican—every one of them a story of resistance.
The woman introduced herself as Auntie Mora, founder and survivor.
"We don't just hand out scholarships," Auntie Mora said. "We plant voices where silence has taken root."
She handed Favour a document.
It was a full scholarship for a women's leadership institute.
"Speak your story, Favour," she said. "But never shrink to make others comfortable."
Later that night, Favour sat by the hotel window and wrote three words in her journal:
I forgive myself.