Beside him, Wafula fiddled with the radio, whistling along to an old Sauti Sol tune.
“Relax, bro,” Wafula said with a grin. “You’re going to meet her parents, not sit KCSE again.”
Luke chuckled nervously. “Betty’s dad used to be a headmaster. You think he grades table manners?”
Wafula laughed, taking a sip of coffee from a paper cup. “Then I hope you studied.”
The highway rolled beneath them, past Limuru’s fog, the Kericho tea fields and down to the warm, green embrace of Migori county.
After six hours, the air smelled of sugarcane and red earth. Luke felt a mix of excitement and tension. This was the day he would formally meet the parents of the woman he loved.
Betty waited by the gate, radiant in a yellow dress. Her smile melted away the miles of travel.
“You actually drove all this way?” she said, laughing as Luke stepped out of the car.
“I wasn’t going to miss this for the world,” he said, pulling her into a brief embrace.
Her parents welcomed them warmly. Her mother’s laughter filled the compound. Her father’s questions were stern but polite.
The smell of pilau drifted from the kitchen, and Luke found himself relaxing. Over lunch, even her father smiled approvingly.
For a moment, everything felt perfect, until Luke noticed a tall man leaning against a motorbike near the fence, watching them. His eyes were dark, cold and fixed on Betty.
Betty’s smile faltered. “That’s Otoyo,” she whispered. “My ex.”
Luke nodded slowly. “He doesn’t look friendly.”
“He won’t cause trouble,” she said, though her voice held uncertainty.
Evening came with soft laughter and goodbyes. Betty’s father suggested Luke and Wafula spend the night at a nearby guesthouse.
“It’s just down the road,” he said. “No need to drive in the dark.”
They agreed. The guesthouse was clean, though simple. A single bulb flickered above their twin beds. Luke had just set his phone to charge when there came a sharp knock on the door.
Wafula opened it — and froze.
Otoyo stood there, towering in the doorway, a storm in his eyes.
“Evening, Nairobi boys,” he said, stepping in uninvited. “So, this is the big man who came to take what’s mine.”
Luke stood. “If you’ve come to talk, then talk.”
Otoyo’s voice dropped to a growl. “I’m not here to talk. I’m here to warn you. You’ve got three hours to leave Migori.”
“Otoyo, stop this,” came a voice from the hallway.
It was Betty. She had followed them from home, worried after hearing that Otoyo was nearby. Her face was pale, her hands trembling.
Otoyo turned toward her. “You brought him here to show off, eh? To rub my face in it?”
“Please, just go,” Betty said firmly. “You and I ended months ago.”
He took a threatening step toward her, but Luke moved between them. “Back off, Otoyo.”
Otoyo’s mouth curled into a smirk. “And if I don’t?”
Luke’s fists clenched at his sides, his heart hammering in his chest. “Then you’ll regret it.”
Otoyo shoved him hard against the wall. “You think you can scare me, city boy?”
Wafula jumped forward, grabbing Otoyo’s arm. “Enough! You’re out of line.”
But Otoyo’s rage only deepened. “You’ve got three hours. After that, I’ll find you myself.”
He threw a final glare at Betty and stormed out into the night.
For a long moment, no one spoke. Betty’s eyes were wet with tears. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “He’s never been violent before.”
Luke took a deep breath. His pride burned like fire. “It’s not your fault,” he said. “But I’ll never let this happen again.”
The next morning, Luke and Wafula drove back to Nairobi in silence. The road stretched endlessly ahead, the memory of humiliation sitting heavy in Luke’s chest. Every word Otoyo had said replayed in his mind. He felt small, weak, unworthy.
Wafula broke the silence. “Bro, that guy’s a bully. Forget him.”
Luke shook his head. “No. I can’t. I froze when he pushed me. I didn’t even defend her. That’s not who I want to be.”
A week later, Luke stood outside a small gym in South B. The air inside smelled of sweat and metal. Music thumped low as men grunted under weights. A towering trainer named Otis walked up, arms like tree trunks.
“You new here?” Otis asked.
“Yeah,” Luke said, wiping his palms on his track pants. “I want to start training.”
Otis studied him. “Why?”
Luke hesitated. “Because I don’t ever want to be humiliated in front of someone I love again.”
Otis nodded. “Good reason. Let’s get started.”
The first week nearly broke him. His arms shook. His lungs burned. But Luke kept coming back. He lifted, ran, stretched and sweated through every ounce of weakness.
Each rep became a promise. Each drop of sweat, a vow.
Wafula teased him often. “So the city boy’s becoming The Rock, huh?”
Luke laughed. “No. Just a man who can stand tall.”
Betty saw the change, too. One evening, she found him mid-workout, his shirt soaked, eyes fierce with focus.
“You’ve changed,” she said softly.
“I had to,” Luke replied. “That day taught me what strength really means: not muscles but courage.”
She smiled. “You don’t have to prove anything to me.”
Luke looked up, breath steady. “Maybe not to you. But I do to myself.”
Months later, they returned to Migori for a family celebration. The same sugarcane fields glistened in the evening light. Luke parked the Mazda by the gate, calm and composed.
From the corner of his eye, he spotted Otoyo again, leaning against his motorbike, watching.
This time, Luke didn’t flinch. He simply met Otoyo’s gaze, steady, unbothered, unafraid.
Otoyo’s eyes faltered first. He looked away.
Wafula leaned over and whispered, “Looks like the lion lost his roar.”
Luke smiled faintly. “I didn’t build this to fight him. I built it so I’d never have to.”
As the evening sun dipped beyond the hills, Luke stood beside Betty, laughter and song drifting from the house.
For the first time since that humiliating night, peace filled his chest.
Strength, he realised, was never about winning fights. It was about never needing to.
And as the Migori wind brushed his face, Luke smiled quietly, knowing the journey that began in shame had ended in power.
