Thursday morning came with grey skies and heavy air. The kind of Lagos morning where you feel the heat even before stepping outside.
Azara woke up at five.
She ironed her white blouse. Changed her earrings m. Then stood in front of the mirror, practicing answers to questions she had written down and memorized over the sleepless nights.
"Tell me about yourself...
She had the perfect answer. It was clear, confident, and just a little humble so she wouldn't sound fake. She had even timed it. Ninety seconds.
"Why Coleridge Group?"
She had an answer for that too. A mostly honest one. She just didn't include the real reason… a man's profile picture at 1am, and the way it had made her feel something deep inside.
The office was on the fourteenth floor of Coleridge Tower in Victoria Island.
When Azara stepped out of the elevator into the reception area, she stopped walking.
For a few seconds.
She expected a normal office.
This was not normal.
The ceilings were high. The lighting was warm. The reception desk looked like it was carved from one solid piece of stone. Everything was quiet in a way that showed money had been spent to make it feel calm and effortless.
She adjusted her blazer.
Then she walked forward like she belonged there.
There were two interviewers.
Mrs. Adeyemi from HR. Calm, serious, and impossible to read.
And Mr. Fashola from Operations. Younger, relaxed, but his questions were sharp. The kind that tested you.
Azara didn't break.
She talked about her experience. The real parts, just presented better. She spoke about coordination, communication, and working under pressure.
That last part, she meant it.
The past few days had been full of pressure, and she had survived it.
When Mr. Fashola asked what she knew about the company's operations, she spoke for a few minutes without stopping.
She noticed his eyebrow lift slightly.
It felt like a good sign.
When the interview ended, Mrs. Adeyemi said, "We will get back to you in five to seven business days."
Azara smiled. Said thank you. Shook their hands.
She walked out through the beautiful lobby. Entered the elevator.
She held herself together.
Until the doors closed.
Then she leaned back against the mirror and let out a long breath.
She knew she did well.
The only question was… would it be enough?
Day one passed.
Azara cleaned the whole apartment. Proper and deep cleaning. Even behind furniture.
She needed something to do with her hands.
When Nkechi came home, she looked around slowly at the shining floors. Then looked at Azara.
"Don't," Azara said.
"I didn't say anything."
"You were about to."
Nkechi sat down on the couch. It smelled like lavender now.
"Did it go well?"
"I think so." Azara paused..."I don't want to say it went well and then be disappointed."
"It went well," Nkechi said firmly. "Eat something. Stop worrying."
Day two was worse.
Azara refreshed her email almost every hour.
She knew it didn't make sense.
She did it anyway.
She even made a list of other companies to apply to, just to be responsible.
Then she dropped the list.
And checked her email again.
Five to seven business days.
That's what they said.
She tried to calm down.
Then she checked her email again.
Day three, she became quiet.
That's how Nkechi knew it was serious.
Azara only went quiet when something was really bothering her.
Nkechi will come back from work and meet her by the window most of the time, staring outside. Not really seeing anything. Just waiting for her thoughts to slow down.
She replayed the interview in her head.
Every answer.
Every moment.
She thought about Mr. Fashola's reaction.
She thought about Mrs. Adeyemi's face, which gave nothing away.
She thought about the office. The quiet. The way everything felt expensive and controlled.... hmmm,
She thought about a man she had never met.
A man whose voice she only knew from an old video.
For a moment, she wondered if she had lost her mind.
Then she thought… what if she hadn't?
What if this was something real?
She went to bed at ten-thirty and stared at the ceiling.
On the fourth morning, she woke up before her alarm.
She wore her trainers and went out to run. deciding to do something and not let the suspense wear her out.
She had started running three weeks ago. The same week she found his profile.
It was part of her new system.
Her new life.
She followed the same route. Out of the estate, down the main road, toward quieter streets near the water.
It was cooler there. Easier to breathe.
She was twenty minutes in.
Sweating. Breathing hard. Headphones in, but no music playing.
Sometimes she just wanted to hear herself move.
Then her phone buzzed.
She ignored it.
Probably Nkechi, Or an unwanted notification,
It buzzed again,
She pulled it out and looked at the screen through sweat and early morning light.
The email was from:
(mailto:[email protected])
Azara stopped running.
She stood in the middle of the pavement, breathing heavily, staring at the subject line:
"Coleridge Group: Your Application Update."
She couldn't open it.
She just stood there...
For thirty seconds.
A woman carrying tomatoes walked around her, giving her a strange look.
Still, Azara didn't move.
What if it was a rejection?
What if everything she did… all the studying, the preparation, the sleepless nights… what if it still wasn't enough?
She opened the email.
Dear Ms. Azara,
We are pleased to inform you that after your interview, you have been selected for the position of Junior Coordinator, Operations, at Coleridge Group.
Please report to the HR office on Monday at 8:00am for onboarding.
Congratulations and welcome to the team.
She read it once.
Then again.
And then…
She screamed.
A loud, excited, uncontrollable scream right there on the street.
Her hands went up. Her phone almost fell.
The woman with the tomatoes stopped and stared at her like she had gone crazy.
"Sorry! Sorry!"
Azara said, laughing, almost crying. "I got a job! I got the job! Sorry!"
The woman looked at her for a moment.
Then slowly smiled.
"Congratulations," she said in Yoruba.
And somehow, hearing that from a stranger on a quiet street felt like the best thing in the world.
Azara called Nkechi immediately.
"I got it."
Silence...
"Azara…"
"I got the job."
She heard Nkechi go quiet.
Then a sound she almost never made.
A real, emotional reaction.
"Oh thank God. Oh.. just come home. Come home now, I'll make you breakfast."
"I'm still running."
"I don't care. Come home."
Azara turned around.
And ran back home faster than she ever had in her life.