Nadia never imagined she would find love in the most unexpected place—and in the most ridiculous way.

It was just another ordinary Monday in the bustling city of Lagos. As usual, Nadia had carefully planned out her day. From the moment she woke up, she was ready to face whatever came her way.

She wasn’t just any teacher in a secondary school—Nadia loved teaching. To her, she was shaping the leaders of tomorrow. Even though she worked at a school where her vision and mission were often ignored and undervalued, she still poured her heart into every lesson.

Her students adored her. They looked up to her—she was their role model, their heroine.

That Monday, Nadia got ready with her usual positive mindset. She believed that everything she wore mattered—her students needed to see someone they could aspire to be.

She wore a lilac chiffon blouse tucked into a fitted black skirt, with simple black flats. Nadia loved her natural hair and wore it proudly. After combing her long dark hair, she styled it into a neat bun. A touch of brown powder, some lip gloss, and she was set.

Grabbing her black handbag, she stepped out of her modest, self-contained apartment.

“Aunty Nadi, good morning!” her neighbor, Mama Ibeji, greeted cheerfully.

“Aunty Ibeji, good morning! How na?” Nadia replied with a smile, slipping into their usual ghetto slang.

“We dey cope oo! You don dey go work?”

“Yes oo... I go see you when I come back.”

“No wahala. Go well oo,” Mama Ibeji said as Nadia walked away.

Nadia didn’t live in a luxurious neighborhood like many Lagos women her age. Her meager teacher’s salary wouldn’t allow it. She lived in the ghetto—what many called the slums—but to Nadia, it was home. The people here were different from those on the mainland or island. They were real.

When she arrived at school, her students greeted her with a group hug before she could even settle in. They couldn’t wait to tell her all about their weekend. It always amazed her how freely they confided in her. Teaching was one thing—connecting was another.

Meanwhile...

In a high-rise office across town, Kunle Remi sat frustrated at his desk, eyes glued to his laptop screen as stock prices continued to plummet.

His best friend and business partner, Shola, stood nearby, just as concerned.

“Guy, this is not good,” Shola said.

“I know. I’m just... tired,” Kunle sighed.

“If we don’t sign the deal with Meraks Foods Ltd, we’ll go completely bankrupt. And the investors we have now will pull out,” Shola stated bluntly.

Kunle ran a hand over his face. “Guy, the CEO of Meraks is impossible. I’ve tried to set up a meeting so many times, and he keeps declining.”

“I heard he doesn’t like investing in startups,” Shola added, shaking his head.

“Well, we need to do something. I can’t let all my hard work go to waste.”

“There’s a rumor... but I don’t know how true it is,” Shola said.

“We don’t need a rumor, Shola. We need a plan,” Kunle said impatiently.

“Chill and just listen,” Shola replied.

Kunle sighed. “Alright... this better be good.”

“I heard the CEO has a daughter. His only child.”

Kunle raised a brow. “Okay… maybe we can reach her? She could help get us in.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Shola said. “But she doesn’t work for her father. She’s a teacher in some local school. Lives in the ghetto. No one really knows what she looks like.”

Kunle burst into laughter. “You’re joking. A billionaire’s daughter… living in the slums? That’s ridiculous.”

“I thought so too, but it’s true. Her name’s Nadia Ibrahim. She has a BA in Business Administration and a Master’s in Education.”

Kunle was stunned. “You’re telling me the daughter of the man who owns the biggest food company in Nigeria is in the slums?”

“Exactly.”

Kunle stood. “Let’s find her. Do you have her address?”

“No, but I know the area. We can ask around.”

“Let’s go.”

Kunle, CEO of K & S Foods, had started the company from his passion for baking—an inheritance from a family of top chefs. But recently, business had been rough. Despite being tall, dark, well-built, and popular among the ladies, Kunle was known for being emotionally distant.

Back in the ghetto...

Nadia was on her way home after school but decided to stop by the local market for soup ingredients. She was haggling at the vegetable stall when a loud voice shouted:

“Thief!”

She looked up. Two well-dressed men stood nearby—one dark-skinned, clearly the victim.

Nadia recognized the thief immediately. “Musa,” she muttered.

She walked over to a nearby pastor preaching through a microphone and politely took it.

She cleared her throat. “Musa, bring it back by the count of three, or this ghetto no go contain both of us!”

She didn’t even reach two before Musa appeared, wallet in hand.

“Aunty Nadi, this thing you do no nice oo,” he grumbled.

“Wetin no nice? Na so we dey welcome strangers now? Give me the wallet, joor.”

“They be strangers. Dem no be one of us,” Musa muttered, handing it over.

“Come house later. I go find you something. But no try this rubbish again,” she warned.

“Aunty Nadi!” Musa hailed her before walking off. “Make una thank her oo!” he said to the stunned men.

Nadia turned to them. “I’m sorry about that,” she said, handing the wallet to Kunle—and noting just how handsome he was.

“Thank you very much. I didn’t expect to find a reasonable human in this... disgusting place,” Kunle replied.

Nadia’s smile faded. “Excuse me? I apologize for what happened, but I won’t stand here while you insult where I live.”

Shola kicked Kunle. “Ouch! What was that for?”

Kunle blinked, then sighed. “I apologize. That was wrong of me.”

Shola looked shocked—Kunle rarely apologized. Nadia raised a brow. “It’s fine. I guess you’re new here. I’m Nadia.”

“I’m Kunle Remi,” he said, shaking her hand—and lingering longer than necessary.

Shola coughed to break the moment. Nadia smiled and shook his hand as well.

“So, what brings you here?” she asked.

“We’re looking for someone,” Kunle replied.

“Who?”

“Nadia Ibrahim,” Shola said.

Nadia paused. “Did Mr. Segun Ibrahim send you?”

“Oh no—it’s for business. I’m the CEO of K & S Finger Foods, and this is my partner, Shola.”

“I love your products!” Nadia grinned. “And it looks like fate is on your side, because... I’m Nadia Ibrahim.”

Both men stared in disbelief.

“It’s true?” Kunle asked.

“What’s true?” she replied, suspicious.

“You gave up all your father’s wealth to live here?”

“I have my own dreams and passion, Mr. CEO.”

“Wow,” Kunle said. “That’s... surprising.”

“Such is life,” Nadia smiled. “Come, let’s go to my place. My legs hurt from standing.”

At her apartment, Kunle explained everything. Nadia admitted she wasn’t on great terms with her father, but offered to connect them with a better company for partnership and promised to arrange a meeting.

Grateful, Kunle got her contact info.

That day marked the beginning of something new. Something they both never expected to happen. Love in the most uncommon place. 

With Nadia’s help, Kunle saved his company and eventually sealed a deal with Meraks Foods. Nadia moved on to a better school with a much-improved salary. Kunle and Nadia became quite close after their first meeting.

Two years later, Kunle and Nadia sealed their love—with holy matrimony.

THE END...