HE TALKS LESS, BUT SEES EVERYTHING

Morning came with that slow Lagos brightness that enters a room before your body is ready for it.

Kamsi didn’t sleep well.

Not because of noise.

Because of silence.

That kind of silence that feels like something is standing somewhere watching you, even when you keep telling yourself it’s just your mind.

She turned on the bed and stared at the ceiling for a while.

Her phone was face down on the pillow beside her.

She already knew without checking.

He had called again.

She finally picked it up.

Twelve missed calls.

One voice note.

She exhaled slowly and locked the phone screen.

“No today,” she whispered to herself.

Outside, the house was already alive. Plates clinking. Low conversation from the kitchen. The faint sound of radio news from somewhere.

Kamsi stood up, wrapped a light cardigan over her tank top and stepped out.

The smell hit her first.

Eggs. Bread. Tea. Familiar Nigerian morning chaos.

As she walked into the passage, she saw him.

Dami.

Standing near the kitchen door, holding a tray like he had been doing it his whole life.

He looked up briefly.

“Good morning ma,” he said.

Same calm voice.

Same careful tone.

Kamsi nodded slightly.

“Morning.”

Nothing else.

But her eyes stayed on him a second too long before she realized.

He was already working.

Her mother’s voice came from the dining area.

“Kamsi, come and eat before it gets cold.”

She sat down.

Dami placed the plate in front of her without looking directly at her face.

Small movements. Controlled. No unnecessary noise.

Her father entered a few minutes later, phone already in hand, complaining about fuel price before he even sat.

Normal house energy.

But Kamsi noticed something strange.

Every few minutes, Dami would appear, adjust something, pour water, clear something, then disappear again.

Not once did he bump into anything.

Not once did he ask where anything was.

Like the house was already mapped inside his head.

At one point, Kamsi caught him staring at the wall clock.

Just for a second.

Like he was timing something.

She frowned slightly.

After breakfast, her father left for work.

Her mother went upstairs.

The house quieted down.

Too quiet.

Kamsi sat in the living room scrolling her phone, not really reading anything.

Then she heard it.

Soft footsteps behind her.

She turned.

Dami was there.

“Ma, the generator fuel is finishing,” he said.

“Oh,” she replied. “Tell my dad when he comes back.”

He nodded.

Then didn’t leave immediately.

That was the first time she noticed it properly.

He didn’t rush conversations.

He waited like he was listening for more than just words.

“You don’t talk much,” she said before she could stop herself.

Dami looked at her.

“I talk when I need to.”

“That’s deep,” she said, half-smiling.

He didn’t smile back.

Instead, he said something low.

“People that talk too much usually miss important things.”

Kamsi raised her eyebrow.

“You’re judging people already?”

“I’m observing,” he corrected.

That word sat in the air a bit too long.

Observing.

Like she was not just a person to him.

Like she was something being studied.

Before she could reply, her phone lit up again.

Same name.

This time, Dami’s eyes moved slightly.

Just a flicker.

But she saw it.

“You should pick it,” he said calmly.

She froze.

“How do you even know it’s him?”

Dami paused.

Then adjusted the sleeve of his shirt.

“Your face changes when it rings,” he said simply.

That hit her in a way she didn’t expect.

She stood up immediately.

“You dey watch me?” she asked, voice sharper now.

Dami didn’t move.

“No,” he replied. “I just notice things.”

Silence.

Kamsi looked at him properly this time.

Really looked.

He wasn’t smiling.

He wasn’t trying to impress her.

He wasn’t even defending himself.

Just standing there like someone who already expected this reaction.

The tension between them hung for a second longer than normal.

Then he spoke again.

“I will go and continue my work.”

He turned and walked away.

But as he left, Kamsi noticed something that made her stomach tighten slightly.

He didn’t walk like a house help who is afraid of being called back.

He walked like someone who had somewhere else on his mind.

Later that afternoon, Kamsi was in her room when she heard voices outside.

Her mother.

And Dami.

She stood quietly and moved closer to the door without thinking.

“…just make sure you don’t leave things unattended,” her mother was saying.

“Yes ma,” Dami replied.

Short.

Respectful.

But then her mother said something that made Kamsi pause.

“We don’t want any misunderstanding in this house.”

A short silence followed.

Then Dami replied.

“I understand.”

But the way he said it…

It wasn’t confusion.

It was agreement.

Like he already knew what kind of misunderstanding she was talking about.

Footsteps moved away.

Her mother’s heels upstairs.

Then silence again.

Kamsi stood there for a while, her hand still on the door handle.

Something about the house felt different now.

Not because anything had changed.

But because she was starting to notice things she never used to see.

She walked back to her bed slowly.

Her phone buzzed again.

She didn’t even check this time.

Outside her window, she heard footsteps again.

Slow.

Controlled.

Passing.

Not rushing.

And for some reason, she found herself standing up again, moving closer to the curtain.

She pulled it slightly.

Just a gap.

Dami was walking across the compound.

Carrying a small bucket.

Normal movement.

Nothing special.

But then he stopped.

Right in the middle of the yard.

And looked up.

Not at her window exactly.

But close enough that her heart skipped slightly.

Like he knew she was there before she even moved the curtain.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then he continued walking.

Like nothing happened.

Kamsi stepped back from the window slowly.

Her heart was beating a bit faster now, and she didn’t know why she was angry about it.

Her phone rang again.

She finally picked it.

This time.

“Hello?” she said, voice tight.

Outside, the footsteps stopped again.

And this time, she realized something that made her go still.

The house was quiet.

But somehow, it didn’t feel empty.

It felt like something inside it was already paying attention to her every move.

To be continued…