Chapter 5 UNEXPLAINABLE GRACE

The campus chapel was fuller than usual that Sunday. Someone said a guest minister from Ghana was coming. Others whispered that the Vice Chancellor would be attending. Whatever the reason, even people who hadn't stepped inside the chapel in months were dressed in white and gold, filing in like saints.

I hadn't planned to go. After everything with Stella and Jason, my spirit felt dry. I wanted to hide, not sing hymns. But Bella, a coursemate who had always been warm toward me, came knocking.

"Sewa, " she said through the door, "I don't know why, but you need to be there today.

" I opened the door slowly, still in my pajamas.

"I'm not in the mood. "

"You don't need to be, " she smiled gently. "Just come. Sit in the back if you want. Something is waiting for you there. "

Her words lingered.

Something is waiting.

I almost laughed. But a quiet voice inside me said, Go.

So I did.

I wore a modest gown, tied my hair into a low bun, and sat near the back row, hidden between two unfamiliar girls.

The worship was soft. The message was fiery. The guest minister spoke about "Hidden Seeds of Glory" and how sometimes, people carry divine treasures they don't even know about. "Some of you are walking altars, " he said, scanning the crowd. "You think you're ordinary, but Heaven sees you as territory. "

I swallowed hard.

The words felt like fire on my skin. After service, I tried to slip out quietly, but the minister stopped mid-conversation and pointed.

"You, " he said, walking toward me.

My heart froze. "You, in the blue gown. "

People turned to look. My legs stiffened.

He stood in front of me, eyes gentle but piercing. "What's your name?"

"Adesewa, " I whispered.

He nodded slowly. "There's something covering you, " he said. "A mantle. A fragrance that opens doors. Preserve it. Not everything precious shines loudly. Some glories are silent. "

I blinked. "Sir, I don't understand. "

"You don't need to, " he smiled. "Not yet. "

And just like that, he walked away.

Everyone stared as I left the chapel. I felt exposed, like I was walking under a spotlight.

By the time I got back to the hostel, my phone was buzzing. Apparently, someone had recorded the encounter. It had already started circulating on the campus gossip pages.

"Mysterious prophecy on Chapel Girl – Who is Adesewa?"

I felt sick.

This wasn't attention I wanted. But something strange happened that week. It started with a call from the bursary department.

"Miss Adesewa George?"

"Yes?"

"You've just been awarded the International Excellence Scholarship. Full tuition refund plus monthly allowance. Congratulations. "

I was stunned. "I... I didn't even apply for it. " The woman laughed. "Your name was submitted by the Dean himself. He said, and I quote, 'She carries favor. '"

My chest tightened.

The next day, a senior lecturer walked up to me after class.

"I read your last paper, " he said. "Brilliant argument structure. Are you considering being a research assistant next semester?"

I hadn't even thought about it.

Another day, the Student Union president invited me to join the planning committee for the university's upcoming leadership summit. "We need girls like you, " he said. "Smart, graceful, untouched. "

That last word stuck in my mind.

Untouched.

Did he know? No. He couldn't. No one knew. Still, the word haunted me. It wasn't just favor I was receiving. It was the kind that made people pause.

Think.

Admire.

At night, I would lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering: What am I carrying?

But I refused to get carried away. I told myself I was just hardworking. Focused. Well-behaved. That was it.

But deep down, I knew it wasn't just me.

People began to notice too.

Bella would often say, "Sewa, you walk into a place and it feels like the air changes. " Even strangers treated me differently.

One afternoon at the bank, a woman insisted I take her spot in line. "There's something peaceful about you, " she said. "Are you a pastor's daughter?"

I wasn't.

But I smiled. Still, not everyone was happy about the spotlight.

I noticed a growing coldness in Stella's old friends. They rolled their eyes when I passed. They laughed louder when I walked by.

One of them, Anita, blocked me on Instagram and tagged me in a post that read: "Fake grace is worse than fake lashes. "

I didn't respond. But the silence didn't help. They began spreading rumors-whispers that my scholarship came from "using charm, " that I was dating the lecturer behind it.

One girl even claimed I was part of a secret campus cult. It was laughable. But painful. Because no matter how blessed you are, lies still sting.

The only place I found peace was at the campus chapel-late evenings when it was empty, quiet, and echoing with silence. I'd sit on the third bench, eyes closed, heart racing.

"God, " I whispered once, "whatever this is... don't let it destroy me. "

I didn't know what I meant by "this. " But something was building. I could feel it.

Then one evening, as I packed my books in the library, a strange man approached me. He looked older-maybe late thirties-wearing a clean suit and dark glasses. "You're Adesewa?"

I hesitated. "Yes?"

He smiled, too kindly. "I work with a media company. We're creating a mentorship campaign for young women on campus. Your name came highly recommended. "

I frowned. "Recommended by who?"

He smiled again. "We'll reveal that later. But you've made quite an impression. We'd like to feature you in our magazine. A spotlight piece on grace and excellence. "

Something about him didn't sit right.

Still, I smiled politely. "Please email me the details. "

He handed me a card. "We'll be in touch. You're going places. "

I watched him walk away, feeling... off.

That night, I didn't sleep well. I kept thinking about how my name-my image-was suddenly everywhere. And how fast admiration could turn into obsession.

Or worse... envy.

By morning, another anonymous message hit my phone. "You're becoming too visible. Careful. The higher the light, the darker the shadows that follow. "

I stared at it, heart pounding.

This wasn't random. Someone was watching me.

Studying me. And they didn't like what they saw. But why?

I looked in the mirror that morning and asked myself a question I never had before.

What exactly is it about me that shakes people? And more importantly...

What happens if I lose it?