My name is Angel Musonda, and I’m the only child of my parents.

When I was born, my mother had fibroids. It got so bad that her uterus had to be removed. After that, there was no chance of her ever having another child.

But my father… he never made her feel like something was missing.

He loved her completely.

People expected him to marry another wife, to have more children, to “continue the family name,” as they always say. But he didn’t. He chose her. He chose us.

And somehow, that was enough.

For a long time, life was good.

Not perfect, but stable.

My parents gave me everything I needed. Not excessively, not in a way that made me feel entitled, but enough for me to know I was loved, cared for, and protected.

Then I turned ten.

And everything changed.

My father was accused of stealing documents from his workplace. False accusations but in a world like ours, truth doesn’t always matter. Reputation does.

And once that was destroyed, everything else followed.

He lost his job.

And worse… no one was willing to hire him again.

Just like that, our life collapsed.

My mother, who had always been a housewife, tried to help, but there was only so much she could do. Eventually, they started a small grocery business.

It wasn’t much.

Some days, it barely brought in anything.

We survived—but just barely.

I was pulled out of my private school and transferred to a government school. I still remember that day clearly… the way everything suddenly felt smaller, harder, uncertain.

But I made a decision.

If life had changed, then I would change with it.

I buried myself in my books.

I studied harder than I ever had.

Because I knew one thing for sure—I couldn’t let my parents’ sacrifices be for nothing.

By the time I got to grade 12, I had already made up my mind. I wasn’t just studying to pass anymore.

I was studying to change our lives.

And when the results came out, everything shifted again.

Six points.

A bursary.

Copperbelt University.

I didn’t even apply.

Yet somehow, I got in.

My parents couldn’t believe it.

My mother cried. My father just kept smiling in a way I hadn’t seen in years.

That day, she slaughtered a big chicken to celebrate.

It might seem small to others, but to us… It meant everything.

It meant hope had returned.

I chose to study law.

Not just because it was prestigious.

But because I wanted answers.

I wanted to understand what really happened to my father… to uncover the truth behind the accusations that ruined his life.

And maybe, just maybe, clear his name.

The night before I left, my parents called me to sit with them.

There was a seriousness in the air that made my chest tighten.

My father spoke first.

“My child,” he said quietly, “you are my pride and joy. Because of you, I can hold my head high.”

I swallowed hard, listening.

“I trust you,” he continued. “And I know you will never disappoint me. But listen carefully when you get to that university, you will meet all kinds of people. Rich, poor… different lifestyles.”

He paused.

“Don’t try to fit into a life you cannot afford. It will push you into doing things you shouldn’t. Focus on your studies. That is why you are going there.”

My mother nodded slowly before adding her own words.

“Be careful of friends who look like they are living large,” she said. “Not everything you see is real. Some of them are struggling more than you… just hiding it better.”

Her voice softened.

“Don’t let anyone lead you astray.”

I looked at both of them, my heart full.

“I promise,” I said. “I won’t disappoint you. I’ll work hard. I’ll make you proud.”

My father smiled faintly.

“I know you will. Just learn to manage the little money we’ll send. It won’t be enough… but do your best.”

“And pray,” my mother added quickly. “Never forget to pray. God is our only helper.”

“I will,” I said. “I promise.”

The next morning came too quickly.

I packed my things.

We prayed together.

Then they hugged me tightly, like they didn’t want to let go.

And for the first time in my life, I was leaving home.

Alone.

The journey felt longer than it was.

My thoughts kept racing about school, about my future… about the kind of people I would meet.

By the time I arrived, my arms were aching from dragging my heavy bag across campus.

“Hi… are you okay?”

I turned to see a young man walking toward me.

“That bag looks really heavy,” he added.

I let out a small laugh. “It is.”

“I’m fine, though. And you?”

“I’m good,” he said. “Let me help you. Where are you going?”

“The new female hostels,” I replied. “But honestly… I don’t even know where it is.”

He smiled. “No problem. I’ll take you there.”

Relief washed over me. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

We started walking together.

“My name is Michael,” he said. “Second-year law student.”

I stopped for a second. “Really? I’m also studying law. First year. My name is Angel.”

He laughed lightly. “Angel? So we have Malaika among us.”

I rolled my eyes playfully. “Very funny. I hope you’ll help me with school work.”

“Anytime,” he said.

When we got to the hostel, he dropped my bag and asked for my number.

I hesitated for a second.

Then I gave it to him.

My room was already occupied.

Two girls.

Both are very different.

“You’ll take the lower bunk,” one of them said immediately. “I don’t like anyone sitting on my bed. That’s why I chose the top.”

She looked me over briefly.

“You look heavy… You might fall on me.”

I blinked, unsure how to respond.

“Don’t mind her,” the other girl said quickly. “She’s loud, but she’s actually a good person. I’m Mwelwa.”

I smiled. “I’m Angel.”

“What took you so long to come?” she asked.

“We had some financial problems,” I admitted.

The first girl scoffed lightly. “So this room is for broke people?”

There was a pause.

Then we all laughed.

And just like that… something started.

We became close.

Studying together.

Helping each other.

Even Michael joined us sometimes, especially since we were all law students.

The first year passed.

We made it to the second year.

My parents were proud. They did everything they could to support me, even when I knew it wasn’t easy.

But when I returned for my second year… something had changed.

“Hi guys, I missed you! ” I said, dropping my bag.

“I missed you too!” Mwelwa said excitedly. “I got us friendship bracelets.”

She handed one to me.

I took it, smiling.

But Chimwemwe didn’t move.

“Aren’t you taking yours?” Mwelwa asked.

She rolled her eyes. “First of all, don’t call me Chimwemwe. Call me Chi Babe.”

The room went quiet.

“And no,” she continued. “I’m not interested in those poverty-looking things you call bracelets.”

Something about the way she said it didn’t sit right.

“Do you have to insult her?” I asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t have time for this.”

That night, Mwelwa cried.

Really cried.

I tried to comfort her, but it only made things worse.

And from that day on… everything shifted.

Chimwemwe started disappearing.

Coming back with expensive things.

Money.

A completely different lifestyle.

“Where is all this coming from?” I asked one day.

She didn’t even look at me.

“How many times will I tell you to call me Chi Babe?” she snapped. Then casually, she stretched out some money toward me. “Here. K2000. Take it and stop talking.”

“I don’t want it,” I said firmly.

Mwelwa, on the other hand, leaned forward immediately.

“Give me,” she said. “I won’t say anything again.”

Chimwemwe smirked. “Now you’re talking. Here’s K5000.”

Mwelwa’s eyes widened. “All this… for me?”

“Don’t thank God,” Chimwemwe replied. “Thank me.”

I watched them, something uneasy settling inside me.

“I won’t take money I don’t understand,” I said.

She sighed dramatically. “Fine. Let me explain. My father won a lottery. Three million. He invested it. Now I’m a millionaire’s daughter.”

I stared at her. “Are you sure?”

“Where else would I get this kind of money?” she shot back.

Then suddenly, her tone changed.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I’ve been rude. I had a lot on my mind. Can we be friends again?”

Mwelwa nodded immediately. “Yes.”

And just like that… everything reset.

Or at least, it looked like it did.

Months later, Michael came to visit.

He met Chimwemwe outside.

“Hi, Chimwemwe,” he greeted.

She ignored him.

“How are you, Chi Babe?” he tried again.

She turned slowly, her expression cold.

“Can’t you see I’m ignoring you?” she said. “Angel, your poor boyfriend is here. Don’t let him enter the room… he might leave poverty behind.”

I felt a sharp sting of embarrassment.

I stepped outside quickly.

“I’m really sorry,” I told him.

“It’s okay,” he said, handing me a flower. “I actually came to ask you something.”

That evening, we went out.

And for the first time in a long time… I felt light.

Happy.

Seen.

As we were about to leave, he looked at me seriously.

“I’ve wanted to say this for a while,” he said. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

My heart reacted instantly.

But I kept my composure.

“Give me time,” I said.

He nodded. “Three days.”

That night, I couldn’t sleep.

Not because of worry.

But because, for once…

Everything felt right.

To be continued…