She Collapsed, Her 2yrs old Twins Dialled A Random Phone Number, A Billionaire Showed Up With…
The sun blazed down on the corrugated iron roof of a small, one-room apartment in Suril, Lagos. Inside, the air was thick and stifling, filled with the acrid smell of kerosene from a small stove in the corner. Amaka stirred a pot of watery pap, the only meal she could afford for her two-year-old twins, Chisum and Chioma. They played on a torn raffia mat, their innocent giggles masking the hunger that gnawed at their bellies.
Amaka felt faint, her body trembling as she fought against the fatigue that threatened to overwhelm her. “I must not give up. Not for them,” she whispered, casting a loving glance at her children. But as she turned to remove the pot from the fire, a sharp pain pierced her chest, sending her gasping to the floor.
“Mommy!” Chisum cried, confusion etched on his small face. Amaka staggered towards the bed but collapsed onto the cold cement floor before she could reach it. The twins froze in horror, and then Chioma let out a piercing scream, “Mommy, mommy!”
Chisum crawled to her side, tugging at her wrapper. “Mommy, wake up. Wake up!” His babbling turned into sobs, but Amaka lay still, her breath shallow. In a panic, Chioma spotted the battered Nokia phone on the stool beside the bed. With tiny hands, she pressed the buttons at random, unintentionally dialing a number.
On the other side of Lagos Island, Cola Admi, a billionaire CEO of a rapidly growing tech company, sat in his office, surrounded by the buzz of activity. He leaned back in his chair, gazing out at the skyline, feeling an emptiness that wealth could not fill. Just as he closed his eyes for a moment of respite, his phone rang. An unknown number flashed on the screen.
“Another spam call,” he muttered, but something nudged him to pick it up. “Hello, this is Cola at a yummy speaking.” Silence greeted him, and he was about to hang up when he heard it—a loud, heart-wrenching cry of a child.
“Mommy, I wake up!” Cola sat upright, his heart racing. “What? Who is this? Hello? Can you hear me?” The cries continued, another tiny voice sobbing, “Mommy, fall down. Mommy, no. Stand up. Help!”
Cola’s heart pounded in his chest. “Child, listen. I need you to tell me where you are. Okay, where are you?” All he received in response was desperate crying. The background noise revealed a small television’s static hum and muffled sobs echoing in a cramped room.
“Segan, get the IT team here now!” Cola barked into the intercom. Within moments, his personal assistant rushed in, shocked but compliant. “Yes, sir?”
“I just received a call from children. Something’s wrong. Trace the call location fast!”
Minutes later, Segan reported, “Sir, we’ve traced the number. It’s coming from Suril, a small compound off Alhaji Musa Street.” Cola grabbed his car keys, urgency coursing through him. “Call emergency services. Ambulance, police, everyone. I’m heading there now.”
“But sir—” Segan stammered, but Cola was already striding out of the office. “If I don’t go, those children may lose their mother tonight.”
The ride through Lagos traffic was a blur of chaos—vendors shouting, honking horns, and the usual hustle of the city. Cola’s mind raced with worry. What if he was too late?
“Musa, start the engine. We’re going to Suril. Fast!” Cola ordered as he jumped into the sleek black Range Rover. He dialed emergency services, his voice commanding. “This is Cola at a yummy. I just received a distress call from children in Suril. Their mother has collapsed. Send an ambulance to Alhaji Musa Street immediately.”
As they arrived at the small compound, Cola saw an ambulance parked outside a faded yellow building. Neighbors had gathered, murmuring anxiously. “Where is she? Where are the children?” he demanded. A woman pointed towards a door. “Inside that room, sir. The children have been crying since their mother fell down.”
Cola’s heart raced as he rushed inside. The room was dim and cramped, with Amaka lying unconscious on the floor, her wrapper twisted around her. Two tiny toddlers clung to her, their faces streaked with tears. Chioma still held the Nokia phone, sobbing uncontrollably, while Chisum tugged weakly at their mother’s wrapper, crying, “Mommy, mommy, wake up!”
Cola’s throat tightened at the sight. He called out to the paramedics who rushed in with a stretcher. “She’s still breathing, weak but alive. We need to move her now!”
As they lifted Amaka, Chioma wailed louder, refusing to let go. Cola bent down, scooping both children into his arms. “It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You did well, both of you. You saved your mommy.”
The ambulance roared to life, rushing toward Lagos University Teaching Hospital. Inside, Amaka lay on a stretcher, an oxygen mask over her face. Cola sat in the back seat with the twins still clinging to him, their tiny bodies trembling. “Your mommy is going to be fine. We’ll make sure she’s fine,” he reassured them, even as fear gripped his heart.
When they arrived, nurses rushed Amaka into the emergency ward. Cola tried to follow but was stopped by a stern nurse. “Sir, only medical staff beyond this point.”
“I’ll cover all her bills,” Cola said urgently. “Just save her.” The nurse nodded and hurried away, leaving Cola in the waiting area with the twins still in his arms.
As hours passed, Cola remained fixated on the door to the emergency ward. Finally, a doctor emerged, removing his gloves. “She’s stable for now. She suffered a cardiac episode. Luckily, help arrived on time. Another ten minutes, and she might not have survived.”
Cola exhaled in relief, looking down at the children. “You did it. You truly saved her.”
The doctor asked, “Are you family?”
Cola hesitated. “No, not really, but I’ll take responsibility for her care.”
After a long wait, Amaka began to stir. “Mm, my babies,” she murmured as her eyes fluttered open. Cola leaned forward. “They’re fine. They cried for help, and help came.”
Amaka’s gaze met his, weary but filled with gratitude. “Who are you?”
“The man your children called by mistake,” Cola replied with a small smile.
Tears welled in Amaka’s eyes. “They saved me?”
“Yes,” Cola confirmed, glancing at the twins. “Your little girl cried into the phone until I came. If not for them…” His voice trailed off, heavy with unspoken words.
Amaka covered her face with trembling hands, sobbing quietly. “God, you used my babies, my little ones.”
Cola watched her, a mix of admiration and sadness welling up inside him. “I couldn’t ignore them. Not when I heard their cries. Some things you don’t question; you just do.”
As the days passed, Cola returned to the hospital, bringing food, clothes, and toys for the twins. He played with them, drawing smiles even from the nurses. Amaka initially thought it was pity, but soon realized it was more.
One day, while she rested, she woke to the sound of giggles. Cola was on the floor, letting Chioma braid his tie while Chisum climbed onto his lap. “Cola, you’ll spoil your clothes,” Amaka scolded half-heartedly.
“They’re only clothes. They’re not as important as smiles,” he replied, and her heart fluttered at his sincerity.
Despite her resistance, Amaka could not deny the bond forming between Cola and her children. “Uncle Cola will come tomorrow,” Chisum said one evening, and Amaka whispered, “Yes, my son. He will come.”
Cola was weaving himself into the fabric of their lives, and she was too tired to fight against it. Destiny had walked in uninvited, and Amaka could only hope it would lead them all to a brighter future.
