Lagos After Rain: Part Two

The damp, metallic scent of fresh rain clung to the air outside Murtala Muhammed International Airport, just as it had two years ago. For Teni, returning to Lagos was an exercise in holding back tears.

Two years prior, after three months of silent, unacknowledged rendezvouses on the third-floor balcony of an old residential building in Ikoyi—a building neither she nor he lived in—she had gone there one final rainy Tuesday to say goodbye before relocating to London. He hadn't shown up. She had waited until the storm subsided and the streetlights flickered to life, feeling a quiet heartbreak for a man whose name she didn't even know. Weeks later, she settled into her new life in the UK, burying the memory under cold mornings and corporate spreadsheets.