10/03/2026
The Road from Benin to Italy
Chapter 2: The Departure
The night Efe left Benin City, the street was alive with whispers. Neighbors peeked through windows, children ran alongside the vehicles, and mothers clutched their own daughters tightly, as if preparing them for a journey none could fully understand.
Efe’s mother held her hand longer than usual. “Remember, God is with you,” she whispered, pressing a small Bible into Efe’s palm. The leather cover was soft, worn from years of prayers, yet it felt like a shield in that moment.
Efe nodded, swallowing hard, trying to appear brave. She stepped into the van that would carry her and seventeen other girls toward an unknown future. The air inside was heavy, a mixture of perfume, fear, and the dusty smell of worn seats.
Most of the girls whispered to each other, their voices trembling between excitement and worry. Efe stayed silent, clutching the Bible to her chest like a life raft. She peeked at the driver—a tall man with a cold stare—and shivered slightly.
Madam Rose had said nothing about this part of the journey. She hadn’t said who the man was, or how long it would take, or how many borders they would cross. Only that the road would be long… and that the girls must be quiet and obedient.
The city lights of Benin City faded behind them. Efe pressed her forehead to the dusty window and watched the familiar streets disappear. Each passing shop, each neon sign, each glowing lamp felt like a last thread to a life she had always known.
Hours passed, and the van carried them deeper into the night. Efe realized how little she knew about this journey. The driver didn’t speak. No one dared ask questions. Every few minutes, the van jolted over potholes, and Efe’s stomach tightened.
At the first stop, a small checkpoint, a man in uniform inspected the van. The girls held their breath. When the officer left, the man in front finally spoke:
“From now on… no phones. No talking to anyone outside this group. Only follow instructions. Understood?”
The silence that followed was deafening. Efe nodded, her hands trembling. She thought of her mother, of her father, and the life she had promised to help rebuild.
The van resumed its journey, now with an added layer of tension. Each shadow outside the window felt like a threat. Every passing truck, every sound of footsteps on gravel, made her heart pound.
As dawn broke over the horizon, the first signs of the northern road appeared. Dusty fields stretched into the distance. Small towns blinked awake in the early light. But for Efe, there was no relief—only the creeping realization that the road promised more than just travel.
By the time they reached the city of Kano, the driver ordered the girls to disembark. He checked their bags and took their phones.
“Everything you leave behind now belongs to me,” he said bluntly.
Efe’s stomach turned. She had no way to contact her mother. No way to call home. She clutched the small Bible tighter.
One of the older girls leaned closer and whispered, her voice barely audible:
“Some of us never get to Italy.”
Efe’s heart skipped. She stared at the dusty road ahead. For the first time, the excitement that had carried her from home was replaced by fear.
And yet, the van waited. The engine hummed, ready to take them farther north.
The journey was just beginning.
To be continued…
