I was carrying the Christmas cake when I overheard my mother say, “Don’t bother asking her. Let your sister have the apartment for free.”
I reached across the table and took her hand.
“Chioma, I love you. And I want to help you. But I can’t do it by giving you what I worked for. I can do it by helping you build your own.”
She looked at me.
“What do you mean?”
I pulled out a folder.
Inside was a business plan.
“I know you’ve been wanting to start something of your own. Something real. Something you’re passionate about. I’ve been watching you, and I know you have it in you.”
She opened the folder slowly.
“I want to help you open a daycare,” I said. “You love children. You’re good with them. And there’s a real need for quality childcare in Port Harcourt. I’ll help you find a space. I’ll help you get the license. I’ll even help you with the first six months of rent.”
