Smoke.
That was all Zainab could see as she arrived at the junction near her shop.Thick, angry black clouds dancing into the morning sky.People gathered. Phones out.Chatter everywhere. No one moving close.
Her knees buckled. Her eyes widened.
Her entire shop—Zainab Stitches—was now a skeleton of fire.The signage had melted into its own name.The sewing machines she saved up for—gone.The mirror she used to smile into when customers praised her fittings—shattered.
Gone. All of it.
And the worst part?
No fire service. No police. No explanation.
Just Lagos noise.
Just bystanders.
Just… ruin.
Fatiha arrived minutes later, panting and barefoot.
"Zee…"
Zainab didn't answer.
She was staring at the wall that once carried graffiti.
It was gone now. Replaced by a spray-painted message, fresh and cruel:
"Tailors should sew, not snitch."
Zainab turned away.
Silent.
Not a tear fell.
But inside her heart, something snapped.
By evening, she was sitting in a corner of Fatiha's one-room apartment.Eyes fixed. Mind racing.Fatiha paced.
"They're trying to erase you, Zee. And they're not playing. They burnt your shop, they could come for your life next."
Zainab finally spoke.
"Let them come."
Fatiha turned, shocked. "Are you hearing yourself?"
Zainab looked up, calm but deadly.
"I'm not running again, Fatiha. Not this time. Dapo wants silence? He'll get the opposite. They lit fire? I'll light thunder."
Fatiha sat beside her, quiet.
Then she smiled.
"So what's the plan, Tailor-General?"
Zainab smiled faintly. Just a flicker.
"I need Obi."
8:42PM.
Obinna picked her call on the third ring.
"Zainab?"
"Meet me at the back of Oando Filling Station in 30 minutes."
"No greetings?"
"I'm not calling to greet you, Obi. I'm calling to finish what you started."
Click.
She ended the call.
10:17PM.
The back of Oando was quiet. Just the low hum of generators and flickering yellow bulbs. Zainab stood by a wall, arms crossed, black hoodie hiding her hair.
Obi arrived. Alone.
His eyes scanned her from head to toe.
"You okay?"
She stepped forward. "I'm not. My shop is gone."
"I heard."
"I need you to help me vanish," she said. "Just long enough to do what I have to do."
Obi frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I'll tell my story. On video. With full evidence. But before the storm hits, I need to disappear. I need protection. I need to move without being tracked."
Obi's silence was thick.
Then he nodded.
"There's a safe house. Badagry. You'll stay there. No one will know."
She exhaled.
"And Obi…"
"Yes?"
"If I don't survive this…"
"Don't talk like that."
She ignored him.
"If I don't survive, make sure Dapo never sees peace again."
Obi nodded slowly. "Deal."
Back in Yaba.
The journalist, S.K, watched Zainab's testimony again. Raw. Fierce. Full.
Then he began uploading.
A 12-part documentary.
Title?
"THE TAILOR'S TRUTH"
He whispered under his breath:
"Let the fire burn higher."