Creative Mart

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…

The Road from Benin to Italy

Chapter 1: The Girl Everyone Envied

In Benin City, dreams travel fast.

Sometimes faster than the truth.

When people heard that Efe was going to Italy, the news spread through the streets like wildfire.

“She is lucky.”
“Her life has changed.”
“She will send money home.”

Efe was only nineteen.

She had big eyes filled with quiet hope and a heart that had learned how to survive disappointment. Life had not been kind to her family. Her mother sold small items at the roadside market. Her father had been sick for months, unable to work properly. Every day was a battle for food, rent, and medicine.

Efe had dreams once.

She wanted to become a fashion designer.

She loved sketching dresses on old notebooks.

But dreams do not survive long when hunger enters the room.

One afternoon, everything shifted.

A woman named Madam Rose returned to the neighborhood. She arrived in a clean car, wearing expensive clothes and speaking confidently. Years ago, she had lived in the same area. Now she seemed different—successful, powerful, respected.

To many families in Benin City, Madam Rose represented hope. Proof that Europe worked. Proof that leaving Nigeria could change everything.

When she visited Efe’s home, she spoke gently.

“I have a business in Europe,” she said.
“I need a hardworking girl to help me in my salon.”

A salon in Europe.

The words felt like gold.

She explained that Efe would work, learn skills, and earn money. She promised that in a short time, Efe could send enough home to fix the house and support her parents.

There was only one condition.

The journey would not be by airplane.

It would be by road.

Efe hesitated for a moment.

Traveling by road to Europe sounded long… but not impossible. She had heard stories of people traveling through neighboring countries before reaching their destination.

Madam Rose noticed her doubt and smiled.

“Don’t worry. Many girls have gone before you. They are doing well.”

That sentence erased Efe’s fear.

Because if others had done it, it must be safe.

Her mother was unsure at first. Something about the journey felt strange. But when she saw the possibility of a better life for her daughter, hope slowly overcame fear.

Efe imagined herself in Italy.

She imagined working in a clean salon.

She imagined calling her mother with an international number.

She imagined sending money home every month.

She imagined her father smiling again.

For the first time in years, she felt chosen.

Special.

Important.

Three days later, Efe packed a small bag. She did not have much to carry. A few clothes. A notebook. And a small Bible her mother placed inside without saying much.

On the morning of departure, the street gathered to see her off.

Neighbors congratulated her.

“You will not return the same!”

“Bring success back home!”

Efe smiled nervously, trying to look brave.

But as she stepped into the car with other girls heading out that night, a strange silence filled the vehicle.

There were more girls than she expected.

Most of them were young.

Some looked excited.

Some looked afraid.

Madam Rose did not travel with them.

Instead, another man sat in the front seat.

He did not smile.

As the car moved away from Benin City, Efe felt a small tightening in her chest.

She told herself it was normal.

New journeys always feel scary.

She opened her notebook and wrote one sentence:

“Next time I write here, I will be in Italy.”

The road became darker as the city lights disappeared behind them.

She looked out of the window.

The streets she knew slowly faded into distance.

Her mother’s voice echoed in her mind:

“Call me when you arrive.”

Efe closed her eyes and whispered a prayer.

She did not know that this journey would not end quickly.

She did not know that the road to Italy would pass through danger she had never imagined.

She did not know that promises can sometimes hide chains.

As the vehicle continued moving into the night, the man in front finally spoke without turning back:

“From now on, no one speaks unless I allow it.”

The girls became silent.

Efe opened her eyes slowly.

Something in the tone of his voice felt different.

Not like a travel guide.

Not like a business assistant.

But like someone giving orders.

And for the first time since leaving home, Efe wondered:

Where exactly are we going?

The road ahead was dark.

And she had no idea that this was only the beginning.

To be continued…