Two years had slipped by in the vibrant, sun-drenched rhythm of Lagos.
Alex Jr. was now a bright, curious two-year-old with a mop of unruly dark hair and striking emerald-green eyes that seemed to notice everything. He toddled around the small apartment with endless energy, pointing at objects and demanding their names in his sweet, half-formed sentences.
“Mama, look! Bird!” he exclaimed one warm afternoon, pressing his little hands against the window as a flock of birds soared past.
Claire smiled from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. “Yes, my love. Those are birds. Very fast ones today.”
Balancing motherhood and work had become her new normal. In the mornings, she taught English at the local primary school, where the children’s laughter and eager questions filled her days wit
