"I'll give you 100 million naira if you open this safe."
The millionaire chuckled, looking at the barefoot boy. He didn't know he was betting against the wrong person, and that he would lose everything."Get out of the way! Important people are about to pass!" Chief Obinna Okoro yelled at Emeka, who was cleaning the lobby floor with an old, worn rag.The boy looked up, his dark eyes filled with concentration, and quickly moved to the side, murmuring an almost inaudible, "Sorry, sir."Emeka was barely eleven years old, but he already carried on his small shoulders the weight of a responsibility no child should bear. His hands, chapped from water and cleaning products, worked tirelessly from early morning. The knees of his trousers showed patches mended by his mother, Adanna, who sewed every night, trying to maintain her son's dignity despite the poverty surrounding them.Chief Obinna Okoro was the owner of Okoro Conglomerate, one of the largest companies in Lagos. At forty-five, he had built an empire based on real estate and technology. He wore watches that cost more than a new car and imported agbadas that were worth the monthly salary of any of his employees. For him, people like Emeka were simply part of the furniture: objects that had to be present, but never visible."Aisha," Chief Okoro called his secretary as he entered the main office, "how many times do I have to tell the cleaning staff not to get in the way when I arrive?"Aisha Yusuf, thirty-two, had been working for Chief Okoro for six years. She had learned to navigate his explosive temper and hurtful comments. "Chief Okoro, the boy was just doing his job. He arrives at 6:00 a.m. to clean before the other staff come in.""And why should I care?" Chief Okoro retorted disdainfully, dropping his leather briefcase onto the desk. "I'm not interested in his story. I just want him to do his job without me having to see him."What Chief Okoro didn't know was that Emeka was not an employee of the cleaning company. He was the son of Adanna, who had worked there for three years. Adanna, thirty-five, was the sole provider for her household since Chike, her husband, had suffered an accident that left him unable to do heavy labor. Chike now hawked small provisions at traffic lights, earning just enough to buy his medication.Emeka accompanied his mother every morning because they had no one to leave him with. School had taken a backseat when his father's medical expenses consumed all their savings. But the boy didn't just sit around waiting: he helped his mother with the cleaning tasks, carried water buckets, organized products, and swept the hallways—all with a dedication that belied his young age."Mama," Emeka whispered when Adanna appeared with her cleaning cart, "that man is angry again."Adanna glanced toward Chief Okoro's office and sighed. "Don't worry, my love. We just have to do our work well and stay out of trouble.""Why does he treat us like this? We haven't done anything wrong.""Some people, Emeka, haven't learned that everyone deserves respect. But that doesn't mean we should be like them. Do you understand?"