Chidimma and Ifunanya were once best friends — sisters not by blood, but by years of laughter, struggle, and dreams. But everything changed when success finally smiled on me. Rumors, jealousy, and pride slowly poisoned the friendship they once protected.
That afternoon, both ladies stood before me, gripping each other’s clothes with anger burning in their eyes. Yet I wasn’t looking at their hands. I was staring at the pain hidden behind their silence. I was so surprised on their drama, because we were just village friends, playing together and advising each other.
I sat quietly between the two ladies, my heart heavier than the rainwater beneath my feet.
