What They Expect of Us
CHAPTER ONE: The Topic She Hate
“Keziah, your father and I have been thinking.”
Keziah slowly lowered her fork.
Those words never came before anything good.
She looked across the dining table at her parents. Her father was calmly cutting through his steak, while her mother watched her with an expression that immediately made her suspicious.
“Thinking about what?”
Her father glanced at her mother before answering.
“Your future.”
Keziah sighed.
“Dad, I'm already going to university.”
“We know.”
“I've chosen my course.”
“We know that too.”
“Then what else is there?”
Her mother smiled.
“Marriage.”
The fork slipped slightly between Keziah's fingers.
Of all the topics they could have chosen over dinner, it had to be that one.
Again.
“Mum…”
“What?” her mother asked innocently.
“I don't want to talk about this.”
“You're twenty, Keziah. There's nothing wrong with discussing your future.”
“My future isn't marriage.”
Her father finally put down his knife.
“No one said it was.”
“You always say it is.”
Her mother exchanged a glance with him.
“You're going to university now. You'll meet people. You'll make friends. Perhaps you'll meet someone from a good family—”
“Mum, please.”
“Why are you getting upset?”
“Because every time we talk about my future, somehow a husband appears in the conversation.”
Her father leaned back in his chair.
“And what's wrong with having a husband?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you behaving as though we've insulted you?”
Keziah stared at him.
“Because I want to be more than someone's wife.”
Silence settled over the table.
Her mother's face changed.
“Keziah, being a wife isn't something to be ashamed of.”
“I didn't say it was.”
“You're making it sound that way.”
“No. I'm saying I don't want marriage to be the biggest achievement of my life.”
Her father frowned.
“You're thinking too much like a young girl who doesn't understand how the world works.”
Keziah's eyes hardened.
“And you think being a woman means my life has to follow a particular order.”
Her father didn't answer immediately.
Then he said, “There are certain responsibilities a woman has.”
“And there are responsibilities a man has too.”
“Of course.”
“Then why don't we talk about those?”
Her mother sighed.
“Keziah, enough.”
She pushed her chair back.
“I've lost my appetite.”
“Keziah.”
She stopped.
Her father looked at her seriously.
“University is not going to change the values we raised you with.”
She nodded slowly.
“Maybe not.”
She picked up her bag from beside the chair.
“But university might finally give me the chance to decide which ones are mine.”
She walked upstairs.
Neither parent followed her.
Across town, Ryan was having a very different argument.
“You're leaving tomorrow.”
Ryan looked up from his phone.
His father stood at the entrance of the study.
“Yes.”
“For university.”
“Yes.”
“And you're still refusing to change your course?”
Ryan sighed.
“We've already had this conversation.”
“Then have it again.”
Ryan put down his phone.
“Dad, I don't want to study business.”
“You're my son.”
“I know.”
“Then act like it.”
Ryan stared at him.
“What exactly does that mean?”
His father stepped further into the room.
“It means understanding your position. You are the first son. One day, this family will be your responsibility.”
Ryan laughed bitterly.
“So because I'm the first son, I don't get to choose what I want?”
“You'll choose what is best for you.”
“I know what's best for me.”
His father's voice hardened.
“You're twenty years old. You don't know anything about running a company.”
“I never said I wanted to run one.”
“You will.”
Ryan stood.
“I want to study journalism.”
His father stared at him as though he had just announced something absurd.
“Journalism?”
“Yes.”
“You have every opportunity in this world, and you want to become a journalist?”
“I want to write.”
“You can write after you take over the company.”
Ryan shook his head.
“You don't understand.”
“No. You don't understand.”
His father walked toward the desk and placed both hands on it.
“A man should be able to provide for his family.”
“I will.”
“How?”
“By doing something I actually care about.”
“And if it doesn't work?”
Ryan was silent.
His father straightened.
“Exactly.”
Ryan picked up his bag.
“So that's it?”
“What?”
“My entire future has already been decided because I'm a man.”
His father's expression tightened.
“Don't twist my words.”
“I'm not.”
Ryan walked toward the door.
His father called after him.
“One day you'll thank me.”
Ryan stopped but didn't turn around.
“Maybe.”
Then he walked out.
The following morning, two families prepared their children for university.
Keziah left home carrying dreams her parents didn't completely understand.
Ryan left carrying expectations he didn't completely accept.
Neither of them knew the other existed.
They were simply two students heading toward the same university, each determined to build a life that looked different from the one their families had planned for them.
And neither knew that, somewhere between lectures, crowded walkways and one unusually sunny afternoon, their paths would collide.
CHAPTER TWO: A New Beginning
The university gates were crowded that Monday morning.
Cars pulled in one after another, dropping off students with suitcases, boxes, bags and parents who seemed more nervous than the students themselves.
Keziah sat quietly in the back seat of her father’s car, watching the campus come into view.
She had imagined this moment countless times. But now that it was finally here, she wasn’t sure what she felt.
Excited?
Nervous?
Relieved?
Maybe all three. Her father glanced at her through the rear-view mirror.
“You have everything?”
“Yes, Dad.” she replied
“Your documents?”
“Yes.”
“Your laptop?”
“Yes.”
“Money?”
Keziah smiled. “Yes, Dad.”
He nodded.
For a few moments, neither of them spoke. Then he said, “Remember why you’re here.”
“To study.”
“Exactly.”
Keziah looked out of the window. She knew there was more to what he meant. He wanted good grades.
He wanted her to maintain the family name.
He wanted her to graduate with honors.
And, somewhere in between all those expectations, he wanted her to become the kind of woman he had already imagined.
“I know,” she said quietly.
The car stopped. Her father helped her with her luggage.
Keziah stood at the entrance of the hostel and looked back at him.
He smiled.
“Take care of yourself.”
“I will.”
“And Keziah?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t forget what we discussed.”
Her smile faded slightly. “I won’t.”
He hugged her before getting back into the car. Keziah watched until the car disappeared.
Then she turned toward the hostel.
A new chapter of her life had begun.
Ryan arrived later that afternoon.
His mother had wanted to accompany him, but he insisted on coming alone. He didn’t want another long conversation with his father.
He didn’t want another reminder about the family business.
He simply wanted to get settled. He carried his suitcase into his room and dropped it beside the bed.
The room was smaller than anything he was used to at home.
He looked around.
A bed.
A desk.
A wardrobe.
A window overlooking part of the campus.
Ryan smiled.
“This will do.”
His phone rang. He looked at the screen.
Dad.
He let it ring. It stopped. A message appeared.
Call me.
Ryan placed the phone face down on the desk.
For once, he wanted to enjoy his own decision.
He unpacked his clothes, arranged his books and placed his notebook on the desk.
On the first page, he had written one sentence before leaving home:
My life is mine. He looked at it for a long moment. Then he closed the notebook.
The first few days passed quickly. Keziah settled into her classes.
She was quiet at first, but she wasn’t shy.
Once she became comfortable, she could talk for hours.
She made two friends in her first lecture and discovered that one of them lived in the hostel room next to hers.
Ryan wasn’t as social. He attended his lectures, spent time in the library and occasionally sat alone under a tree near the faculty building with his notebook.
He wrote whenever he had time.
Sometimes stories.
Sometimes ideas.
Sometimes things he couldn’t say aloud.
Neither Keziah nor Ryan knew the other existed.
They could walk past each other without noticing. They could sit in the same cafeteria at different tables.
They were simply two strangers beginning their university lives.
Until one Friday afternoon.
Keziah stepped out of her lecture hall just after four.
The afternoon sun was bright, and she immediately pulled her sunglasses from her bag. Her final lecture had drained her.
She wanted nothing more than to get back to her hostel, shower and lie on her bed.
She checked her phone.
Two missed calls from her mother.
She sighed. She knew what the conversation would be about.
She wasn’t ready for it.
So she slipped the phone back into her bag and continued walking.
At the same time, Ryan walked out of another lecture hall.
His phone was in his hand. Another message from his father.
We need to talk about your course. Ryan stared at it.
He typed a response.
Deleted it.
Typed again.
Deleted that too.
Finally, he locked his phone.
“I’m not doing this today.”
He shoved the phone into his pocket. He walked down the pathway, his mind elsewhere.
Keziah turned the corner. Ryan came from the opposite direction.
Neither saw the other until it was too late.
Bump! Keziah stumbled backward.
Her books fell from her hands.
Ryan immediately stopped. “I’m sorry.”
Keziah looked up.
“You could have watched where you were going.”
Ryan frowned. “I said I was sorry.”
“And?” Keziah asked looking like a hot plate
“And what?”
“Nothing.” She bent down to pick up her books.
Ryan sighed and helped her.
“Here.”
“Thanks.”
He handed her another book.
Then another. Their hands reached for the last one at the same time.
They paused. Ryan looked at her.
Keziah looked at him.
“Sorry,” he said.
She took the book. “It’s fine.”
He glanced at the cover. “Law?”
“Yes.”
He nodded. “Nice.”
She looked at his notebook. “Journalism?”
Ryan looked at her. “Yes.”
“You like it?”
A small smile appeared on his face.
“I do.”
There was something about the way he said it that made Keziah notice. He genuinely liked it.
She smiled. “Then that’s good.”
Ryan looked at her for a second.
“You?”
“What?”
“Do you like law?” Keziah hesitated.
Then she smiled. “I think I will.”
“You think?”
“My parents think it’s a good choice.”
Ryan laughed softly.
“Ah.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No, say it.”
He shook his head.
“It’s just interesting.”
“What is?”
“Sometimes parents choose things for us and call it advice.”
Keziah became quiet. She looked at him.
For the first time, she realized there was something behind his smile.
Something she recognized.
“You’re right,” she said.
Ryan nodded. Neither of them said anything for a moment.
The noise of students passing around them seemed to fade. Then Keziah adjusted her books against her chest.
“I should go.”
“Yeah.”
She took a step.
“Keziah.”
She turned around.
Ryan was standing a few steps behind her, his notebook tucked under his arm.
“I don’t remember telling you my name, did I?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
He hesitated for a second. “No you didn’t, I got it from your book. Sorry if you’re offended, I’m Ryan by the way.” He said
“Do you know where the library is?”
Keziah stared at him. Then she laughed.
“You’re a fresher too, aren’t you?” she asked, amused.
Ryan smiled, looking slightly embarrassed.
“Obviously.” he said
“I thought so.”
“Then don’t laugh at me.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re laughing.”
“I can’t help it,” Keziah said, shaking her head. “Come on. I’m going there too.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Ryan fell into step beside her. “Then I guess I chose the right person to bump into.”
Keziah glanced at him. “Don’t get too comfortable. You almost broke my books.”
“I apologized.”
“After arguing with me.”
“You started it.”
She stopped walking and looked at him.
“Are you seriously blaming me?”
Ryan immediately raised both hands. “No, no. My mistake.”
She smiled. “Better.”
They continued walking. The conversation was light this time.
They talked about their courses, their different faculties and how confusing the university campus could be during their first week.
When they reached the library, Ryan stopped at the entrance.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Keziah said, adjusting her bag.
Ryan nodded.
“I’ll see you around.”
“Maybe.” She turned and walked away.
Ryan watched her for a moment before entering the library. Neither of them thought much of the encounter.
It was simply a strange meeting between two fresher’s who had happened to collide on a sunny afternoon.
But it wouldn’t be their last.
The following day, Keziah was rushing out of her lecture when she heard someone call her name.
“Keziah!”
She turned. Ryan was standing near the stairs, holding a bottle of water.
She smiled when she recognized him. “You again?”
“Apparently,” he said, smiling.
She walked over. “How’s journalism?”
“Surviving.”
“And law?”
“Surviving.”
They laughed.
“Have a good day,” Ryan said.
“You too.”
They went their separate ways. The next time they met, they talked for five minutes. The time after that, ten.
Then twenty. Sometimes they met by chance.
Sometimes one of them would notice the other from across the courtyard and wave. Their greetings became familiar.
Their conversations became easier.
And slowly, without either of them noticing exactly when it happened, they stopped being strangers.
One afternoon, Keziah found Ryan sitting alone beneath a tree behind the library. His notebook was open on his lap, but he wasn’t writing.
He was staring at the same page. She approached him.
“Ryan?”
He didn’t respond.
“Ryan.”
He looked up suddenly.
“Oh.”
Keziah laughed.
“Where were you?”
“Nowhere.”
“You looked very far away.”
Ryan closed the notebook.
“Just thinking.”
“About what?”
“Nothing important.”
She sat beside him.
“Then why do you look like someone just told you your results are out?”
Ryan smiled weakly.
“You really don’t let things go, do you?”
“Nope.”
He sighed.
“My dad called.”
Keziah’s smile faded. “What did he say?”
“The usual.”
She waited.
“He wants me to change my course.”
“To business?”
Ryan nodded.
“What did you tell him?”
“That I’m not changing it.”
“And?”
“He wasn’t happy.”
Keziah looked down at the ground.
“My parents aren’t happy with me either.”
Ryan turned toward her.
“Why?”
She hesitated.
“They think I’m making the wrong choices.”
“About what?”
“My future.”
Ryan waited.
Keziah took a breath.
“I don’t even want to study law.”
Ryan’s eyebrows lifted.
“What?”
She looked around before lowering her voice. “I want business accounting.”
“Then why are you doing law?”
“My father.”
Ryan was quiet for a moment. “Does he know?”
“No.”
She gave a small, frustrated laugh.
“If he knew, we’d have another war at home.”
Ryan smiled.
“Then maybe you’re not as different from me as I thought.”
Keziah laughed.
“Maybe not.”
He looked at her.
“You should do what you love.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“I haven’t done it yet.”
She looked at him.
He smiled.
“But I’m going to.”
For some reason, those words stayed with her long after they parted that evening.
A few days later, Ryan found Keziah sitting alone in the cafeteria.
He walked over.
“Can I sit here?” he politely asked.
She looked up. “It’s a free country.”
He pulled out the chair.
“Thank you, Your Honour.”
She laughed.
“How was your class?”
“Terrible.”
“Why?”
“The lecturer decided to give us an assignment.”
“That’s university.”
“I know. I just don’t appreciate it.”
She shook her head.
They talked until their food was finished. By the time they stood up to leave, Ryan had made her laugh three times.
Keziah couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed that much.
And Ryan couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent an afternoon without thinking about his father.
Their friendship was becoming something neither had planned.
They were there for each other’s good days. And, gradually, they became the people each could turn to on the bad ones.
When Keziah passed her first test, Ryan was the first person she called. When Ryan’s article was rejected by the student magazine, Keziah refused to let him give up.
“Try again,” she told him, handing his notebook back.
“I don’t think they want my work.”
“Then find someone who does.”
He smiled.
“You really believe in me?”
She looked at him as though the answer was obvious.
“Of course.”
And perhaps that was what they needed most. Someone who believed in them when the people closest to them didn’t. Someone who reminded them that their dreams were not childish simply because they were different from what their families expected.
A few weeks later, Keziah sat alone in her hostel room, staring at the university portal on her laptop.
Her heart pounded. Ryan’s words came back to her. You should do what you love. She looked at the programme displayed on the screen.
Bachelor of Business Accounting. Her finger hovered over the button. She knew there would be consequences.
She knew her father would be furious. She knew she was making the decision without telling her parents.
But for once, she wanted to choose something because she wanted it.
She clicked.
Change Programme. A confirmation message appeared.
Keziah stared at the screen.
Then she covered her mouth with her hand.
She had done it. She had finally chosen herself.
She immediately picked up her phone.
Keziah: I did it.
Ryan’s reply came almost instantly.
Ryan: Did what?
She smiled.
Keziah: I changed my course.
There was a pause.
Then:
Ryan: To accounting?
Keziah: Yes.
Another message appeared.
Ryan: I’m proud of you.
Keziah stared at those four words.
Her eyes became slightly misty. No one had ever said those words to her about this particular dream.
She smiled.
Keziah: Thank you.
She placed the phone beside her.
For the first time, the future didn’t feel like something waiting to happen to her. It felt like something she was finally beginning to build.
And somewhere else on campus, Ryan sat beneath his favourite tree, smiling at his phone. He didn’t know it yet, but Keziah had just taken the first step.
CHAPTER THREE: The Choices We Make
The semester seemed to disappear before either of them realized it. What had once felt unfamiliar slowly became routine. The lecture halls no longer seemed confusing.
The long walks between faculties became ordinary. The library became a second home.
And somewhere along the way, Keziah and Ryan had become two of the most familiar faces in each other’s university lives.
They still teased each other.
They still argued.
But now, whenever something happened, the other person was usually the first to hear about it.
Their friendship had grown without either of them forcing it.
It simply happened.
Keziah discovered that she had made the right decision. Business Accounting wasn’t easy.
There were nights when she sat over her books until her eyes hurt, trying to understand figures that seemed determined not to make sense.
But unlike Law, she didn’t have to convince herself to care.
She wanted to understand.
She wanted to improve. She wanted to succeed.
And she did.
Her first set of results came out on a Friday morning, even before the semester ended.
Keziah stared at the screen.
She blinked.
Then checked again.
A smile slowly spread across her face.
Her grades were better than she had expected.
Much better.
She immediately called Ryan. He answered on the second ring.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you calling me this early?”
“I got my results.”
There was silence.
“And?”
“I passed.”
Ryan laughed.
“I knew you would.”
“No, you don’t understand. I actually did well.”
“How well?”
Keziah read out her grades.
Ryan whistled.
“Look at you.”
“Stop it.”
“You’re becoming an accountant already.”
She laughed.
“I told you I could do it.”
“You didn’t tell me. I told you.”
“Don’t spoil my moment.”
They both laughed.
Ryan was doing equally well. Journalism wasn’t just something he had chosen.
It was something he loved. He enjoyed researching stories, interviewing people and turning ordinary events into something worth reading.
His lecturers noticed his ability. One even asked him to submit an article for a student publication.
Ryan stared at the message for several seconds. Then he showed Keziah.
She read it and smiled.
“You see?”
“What?”
“You’re good at this.”
Ryan shrugged.
“I just like writing.”
“That’s why you’re good at it.”
He looked at her.
“You really think so?”
“I know so.”
He smiled.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me. Just don’t become famous and forget me.”
Ryan laughed. “Never.”
As the semester progressed, their grades continued to improve.
They studied together. They challenged each other.
If Ryan finished an assignment early, he’d help Keziah revise.
If Keziah understood something Ryan struggled with, she’d sit beside him until he understood it. Neither wanted to be the one who gave up first.
They competed sometimes.
Not bitterly.
Playfully. Even though they offered different courses.
“I got higher than you,” Keziah said one afternoon, waving her result at him.
Ryan stared at it.
“By two marks.”
“Higher is higher.”
“Enjoy it while it lasts.”
She laughed.
“I’m waiting.”
And he was.
By the end of the semester, both had something to be proud of. Keziah had successfully settled into Business Accounting.
Ryan had grown even more confident in Journalism. Their families, however, knew very little about the changes happening inside their children.
Keziah hadn’t told her father about the course change. Ryan had made it clear to his father that he wasn’t changing his course.
Neither situation had been resolved. They simply hadn’t reached the point where their families could no longer ignore it.
Then vacation arrived. The campus slowly emptied.
Students dragged suitcases through the hostels.
Cars lined the roads.
Friends hugged goodbye, promising to call.
Keziah stood outside her hostel with her luggage beside her.
Ryan approached with his bag over his shoulder.
“So this is goodbye.”
“For now,” she corrected.
He smiled.
“For now.”
A car horn sounded from the road. Keziah looked toward it.
“My parents are here.”
Ryan nodded.
“My driver should be here soon.”
She smiled.
“Ryan.”
“Hmm?”
“Remember I’ll be expecting your calls, every…day” she said.
“Yh, sure.” Ryan replied
Before he could continue the conversation, Keziah’s father stepped out of his car.
His expression was calm.
Too calm. He looked at Ryan briefly before turning to his daughter.
“Ready?”
“Yes, Dad.”
Keziah picked up her luggage.
She looked at Ryan. “See you next semester.”
“Take care.”
“You too.”
She got into the car.
Ryan watched as it drove away. A few minutes later, his own car arrived. He climbed in.
Neither knew that the vacation ahead would change everything.
The drive home was quiet.
Keziah sat beside her father, watching the familiar streets pass by.
Her phone vibrated.
A message from Ryan.
Ryan: Made it into the car.
She smiled.
Keziah: Same.
Then another message appeared.
Ryan: Enjoy your vacation, future accountant.
She laughed quietly.
Her father glanced at her.
“What are you laughing at?”
“Nothing, Dad.”
He looked back at the road. But something about the way she had smiled at her phone caught his attention.
He didn’t ask again.
Not yet.
Across town, Ryan sat quietly in the back seat. His phone vibrated again.
Keziah: Don’t forget your article.
He smiled.
Ryan: I won’t.
He looked out the window.
He was happy. He had good grades.
He was doing what he loved. He had a friend who understood him.
For the first time, university felt like the life he had always wanted.
But he knew his father was waiting.
And this time, there would be no way to avoid the conversation.
That evening, Ryan walked into the house. His father was waiting in the living room.
Ryan stopped.
His father’s expression was unreadable.
“Welcome home.”
“Thank you, Dad.”
“How was your semester?”
“Good.”
“Your results?”
“Good.”
His father nodded.
“That’s good.”
Ryan relaxed slightly.
Then his father asked the question he had been expecting.
“And your course?”
Ryan looked at him.
“Journalism.”
His father’s face changed.
“You haven’t changed it?”
“No.”
Silence.
“You still intend to study journalism?”
“Yes, Dad,” Ryan said firmly.
His father stood.
“We need to talk.”
Keziah’s confrontation would come too.
Her father had already seen the university documents she had left carelessly inside her bag.
Business Accounting.
He stared at the words.
His daughter had done exactly what they had warned her not to do.
And unlike Ryan’s father, who believed his son was wasting a family opportunity and leaving a life meant for women, Keziah’s father believed something even more deeply rooted.
He believed the world of business was not a woman’s place.
When Keziah walked into the house that evening, she had no idea what was waiting for her.
Her father was holding the document in his hand.
“Keziah.”
She stopped.
“Yes, Dad?”
He lifted the paper.
“What is this?”
Her heart sank.
She knew immediately.
She looked at the document.
Then at her father.
“It’s my programme.”
“You were studying Law.”
“I was.”
“And now?”
Keziah took a breath. “Business Accounting.”
Her father’s face hardened.
“We warned you.”
“I know.”
“And you deliberately ignored us.”
Keziah swallowed.
“I chose something I love.”
Her father slammed the paper onto the table.
“This is exactly what we were trying to prevent.”
Keziah stared at him. And for the first time, she realized that choosing her own future was going to cost her far more than she had expected.
CHAPTER FOUR: THE LINE THEY DREW
Keziah stared at the paper on the table.
Her father's words hung heavily in the room.
“This is exactly what we were trying to prevent.”
Her mother sat quietly on the other side of the room.
Keziah took a slow breath.
“Prevent what, Dad?”
Her father looked at her as though the answer was obvious.
“You know exactly what I'm talking about.”
“No, I don't.”
“Business is not the life we want for you.”
Keziah frowned.
“Why?”
Her father stood from his chair.
“Because you are a woman.”
The words struck her harder than she expected.
She looked at her mother, hoping she would say something.
Her mother remained silent.
Keziah turned back to her father.
“So because I'm a woman, I can't study business?”
“You can study whatever you want within reason.”
“Who decides what is reasonable?”
Her father's jaw tightened.
“I do. I'm your father.”
“And that gives you the right to decide my entire future?”
“It gives me the responsibility to guide you.”
“Guidance isn't the same as control.”
Her father stared at her.
“You're becoming disrespectful.”
“And you're not listening.”
Her voice trembled, but she refused to look away.
“I've always done what you wanted. I took Law because you said it was suitable for me. I accepted everything because I didn't want to disappoint you. But I finally found something I love, and now you're telling me I can't do it because I'm a woman.”
Her father shook his head.
“You don't understand the world.”
“Then explain it to me.”
He walked toward the window.
“The business world is difficult. It requires strength. It requires leadership. It requires sacrifices that you don't understand yet.”
Keziah almost laughed.
“And women can't be strong?”
“That isn't what I said.”
“But that's what you're saying.”
Her mother finally spoke.
“Keziah, your father only wants what is best for you.”
Keziah looked at her.
“Then why does what's best for me always look like what he wants?”
Her mother fell silent.
Her father turned around.
“Enough.”
Keziah's eyes filled with tears, but she refused to let them fall.
“I won't change my course.”
Her father's expression hardened.
“You will.”
“No.”
“Keziah.”
“I said no.”
For the first time, she saw something in her father's eyes she had never seen before.
Not disappointment.
Anger.
“You will not throw away the future we have built for you.”
“I am not throwing away my future.”
“You are destroying it.”
“No, Dad.”
She picked up the programme document.
“I'm finally choosing it.”
She turned and walked upstairs.
Her father remained standing in the living room.
Her mother looked at him.
“You were too harsh.”
He didn't answer.
Across town, Ryan was facing his own battle.
His father sat behind his large desk in the study.
Ryan stood opposite him.
“Your results are good,” his father said.
“Thank you.”
“I've spoken to people who can help you transfer into the business programme next semester.”
Ryan's expression changed.
“I told you I'm not changing my course.”
His father leaned back.
“And I told you that this isn't a decision you make alone.”
Ryan shook his head.
“Why?”
“Because you are my son.”
Ryan laughed bitterly.
“There it is again.”
“What?”
“I'm your son, so I have to become what you want.”
His father's voice became firmer.
“You have responsibilities.”
“I know.”
“You don't seem to.”
“I do. But my responsibility isn't to live your life.”
Silence.
His father looked at him.
“You think journalism will give you the life you have here?”
“I don't need the life you built if I can't be happy in it.”
His father stood.
“Happy?”
Ryan nodded.
“Yes.”
His father walked toward him.
“Do you know how many men would give anything to have the opportunities you have?”
“I know.”
“And you're throwing them away.”
“No.”
Ryan's voice remained calm.
“I'm choosing something I'm good at.”
“You're choosing something temporary.”
“No. I'm choosing my career.”
His father pointed toward the door.
“You have until the end of the vacation to change your mind.”
Ryan stared at him.
“And if I don't?”
His father paused.
“Then you will learn what it means to make decisions without your family's support.”
Ryan's heart sank.
He understood the warning.
His father wasn't bluffing.
But he also knew he couldn't surrender.
“I'd rather struggle doing something I love than succeed at something I hate.”
He walked out.
That night, Keziah sat on her bed with her phone in her hand.
She stared at Ryan's name.
She hesitated before calling.
He answered after a few rings.
“Hello?”
“Ryan?”
“Yeah.”
She could hear something in his voice.
“You fought with your dad too?”
There was a short silence.
“How did you know?”
“Because I fought with mine.”
Ryan sighed.
“What happened?”
“He found out I changed my course.”
“To accounting?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“He's angry.”
Ryan was quiet.
“So is mine.”
Keziah lay back on her bed.
“Why can't they just let us choose?”
“Maybe because they're afraid.”
“Of what?”
Ryan thought for a moment.
“Of losing control.”
Keziah stared at the ceiling.
“Maybe.”
Neither spoke for a while.
Then Ryan said, “Don't change it.”
She smiled faintly.
“I won't.”
“You promised yourself.”
“I know.”
“And I'm not changing mine either.”
Keziah sat up.
“You better not.”
He laughed.
“I won't.”
For a moment, the weight of their families seemed lighter.
They had each other.
And perhaps that was enough for tonight.
But their parents were not finished.
The following weeks brought more arguments.
More warnings.
More attempts to make them change their minds.
Keziah's father began telling relatives about her “stubbornness.”
Ryan's father started making plans for his son without asking him.
Their families had drawn their lines.
And neither Keziah nor Ryan intended to cross back over them.
What they didn't know was that their fight would soon leave the walls of their homes.
Because university was supposed to be the place where they were finally free to choose.
But even there, they would discover that discrimination did not always come from home.
Sometimes, it wore a suit.
Sometimes, it stood behind a lecturer's desk.
And sometimes, it came from people who claimed to be preparing them for the real world.
The vacation was supposed to be peaceful. For Keziah, it became a battle she fought almost every day.
Her father refused to accept her decision. At breakfast, he would bring it up.
At dinner, he would bring it up.
Even when she tried to avoid the subject, he found a way back to it.
One evening, he placed a newspaper on the dining table.
“Look at this.”
Keziah glanced at it.
A photograph of a successful businessman occupied the front page.
“What about him?”
“He built his company from nothing.”
Keziah nodded slowly.
“And?”
Her father looked at her.
“That’s the kind of world you’re trying to enter.”
Keziah frowned.
“And what’s wrong with that?”
“It’s not a woman’s world.”
The words made her put down her spoon.
“Why?”
“Because business requires a certain kind of authority.”
“And women don’t have authority?”
Her father sighed.
“You’re deliberately misunderstanding me.”
“No, Dad. I’m trying to understand you.”
He leaned forward.
“A woman has different responsibilities.”
Keziah looked at him.
“According to who?”
“According to life.”
“Or according to society?”
Her father said nothing.
Keziah continued. “If a woman manages a home, raises children, supports her husband and sacrifices everything for her family, society calls her responsible.”
Her voice became firmer. “But when that same woman wants to manage a company, make decisions and lead people, suddenly she’s too ambitious.”
Her mother looked down.
“Keziah…”
“No, Mum.” She shook her head.
“I want to understand. Why is ambition respectable in a man but dangerous in a woman?”
Her father pushed his chair back. “Because the world doesn’t work the way you think it does.”
“Then maybe the world needs to change.”
Her father stared at her.
“You’re young.”
“I’m young, not incapable.”
The room fell silent. Keziah picked up her plate.
“I love you, Dad. But I won’t allow being a woman to become the reason I give up my dreams.”
She walked away.
Meanwhile, Ryan’s father had invited several businessmen to the house. Ryan entered the study and stopped when he saw them.
His father looked up.
“Come in.”
Ryan hesitated.
“What’s happening?”
“I want you to meet some people.”
One of the men smiled.
“Your father has told us about you.”
Ryan forced a polite smile.
“Good evening.”
The man extended his hand.
“Your father says you’re going to take over the family business one day.”
Ryan glanced at his father.
“That hasn’t been decided.”
His father’s expression tightened.
The businessman laughed.
“Young men always think they know what they want.”
Ryan remained quiet.
Another man spoke.
“You’ll understand when you’re older. A man needs something substantial behind his name.”
Ryan looked at them.
“And journalism isn’t substantial?”
The room became quiet.
His father answered.
“Not for you.”
Ryan clenched his jaw. One of the businessmen leaned back.
“Your father has built something valuable. As his son, you have a duty to continue it.”
Ryan nodded slowly.
“I understand.”
His father smiled slightly.
Then Ryan added,
“But being his son shouldn’t mean I have to become him.”
The smile disappeared.
Later that night, Ryan sat outside on the balcony.
Keziah called.
“You okay?”
He looked at the screen before answering.
“No.”
She smiled sadly.
“Me neither.”
“What happened?”
“My dad still thinks women shouldn’t be in business.”
Ryan shook his head.
“Mine thinks men should be.”
Keziah paused. “What do you mean?”
“He says I’m a man, so I have to inherit the company, most importantly journalism is for women – asking questions is never the job of a man.”
She became quiet.
“So we’re both trapped by the same thing.”
“Different cages.”
“Same bars.” Ryan smiled.
“That was actually good.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know.”
She leaned against her headboard. “Sometimes I wonder if we’re fighting too much.”
Ryan looked into the distance. “Maybe.”
“Then why don’t we stop?”
He answered without hesitation.
“Because if we stop, nothing changes.”
Keziah smiled.
“You’re right.”
“I know.”
She laughed.
“Don’t get too proud.”
“I’ll try.”
They continued talking late into the night. Not about their parents.
Not about their courses.
Just life. Dreams.
The kind of people they wanted to become. And for the first time, they began to understand something important.
Their struggles were not identical.
But they came from the same belief.
The belief that society had already decided what a man and a woman were supposed to be. Ryan was expected to be strong, wealthy and responsible for everyone.
Keziah was expected to be obedient, careful and prepared for marriage.
Neither was being asked what they wanted. They were simply being told what they were supposed to become.
When the vacation finally ended, Keziah returned to university with a new determination. Ryan returned with the same.
They met outside the lecture hall on their first day back.
Keziah smiled.
“Ready?”
Ryan adjusted his bag.
“Always.”
“For another semester of fighting?”
He smiled.
“Apparently.”
She laughed. They walked toward their respective lecture halls.
Neither knew that university would soon become another battlefield. Because their families were not the only people who believed that men and women belonged in different places.
And when Keziah’s abilities began attracting attention, some people would question her success simply because she was a woman.
When Ryan began speaking openly about his dreams, some would question his masculinity because he had chosen a path they considered too soft.
Their fight was no longer just about choosing careers. It was about challenging a system that had spent generations telling people who they were allowed to become.
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