From A Producer To A Global Superstar-Chapter 369: Tears of generation

The boy stood frozen for a moment when Dayo told him to get into the car.

"Hop in," Dayo said again calmly.

The boy looked at the vehicle. Then at his sack. Then back at Dayo.

"Sir... I no fit enter this kind car," he said quietly.

"You fit," Dayo replied. "Leave the sack. Enter."

The boy hesitated. Fear and curiosity wrestling inside him. He glanced around as if someone might accuse him of stealing.

Dayo opened the door himself.

"Come."

After a few seconds, the boy stepped forward and entered carefully, as if the seat might reject him.

He sat stiffly at first. Hands on his knees. Eyes wide.

Dayo sat beside him in the back.

The car pulled off.

For the first few minutes, neither of them spoke. The boy kept looking around at the interior, touching nothing.

"You relax yourself," Dayo said lightly.

The boy gave a nervous laugh his hands clinched the handle of the door he seemed to readh to jump out any moment.

This just made Dayo smile and want to help him more.

They stopped first at a barbing salon in a clean part of town.

When the boy stepped down, people turned to look. Not because of him. Because of who was walking beside him.

Inside the salon, Dayo simply told the barber, "Clean cut. Make am sharp."

The boy sat in the chair like someone entering a different life. As the machine buzzed against his scalp, strands of uneven hair fell to the floor. His face slowly changed in the mirror. The tired edges softened. The child underneath became clearer.

He kept stealing glances at Dayo in the mirror.

"Thank you, sir," he whispered again by now his guard had been dropped he trusted Dayo now.

Dayo just smiled slightly.

After the haircut, they went to a clothing store. The attendants were confused at first, unsure what was happening, but when they recognized Dayo, their behavior shifted.

"Find his size," Dayo said.

New jeans. Clean shirts. Proper sneakers. Undergarments. Simple but solid. Nothing flashy.

The boy came out of the changing room wearing one of the outfits. He looked down at himself as if checking whether it was real.

"You like am?" Dayo asked.

The boy nodded quickly.

"It good?"

"It good pass good," he replied, trying not to grin too wide.

Dayo laughed softly.

Through the entire process, the boy kept saying thank you. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just small, repeated gratitude.

After shopping, they stopped at a restaurant.

The boy paused at the entrance, unsure again.

"I never enter this kind place before," he admitted. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

"Today you don enter," Dayo said.

They sat down.

"Order wetin you want," Dayo told him.

The boy stared at the menu like it was a textbook written in another language. He pointed at one picture hesitantly. Then another.

"Add that," Dayo said.

When the food arrived, the boy tried to eat slowly at first, conscious of how he looked. But hunger won. He ate with focus. Real hunger. The kind that doesn’t waste time.

While he was eating, Dayo stepped outside briefly and made a phone call.

It was short.

Quiet.

Direct.

By the time he returned, the boy had finished and was wiping his mouth carefully with the napkin like he had watched someone else do before.

"You don full?" Dayo asked.

The boy nodded. "Yes sir."

"Good. One more place."

They drove again.

This time, the car stopped in front of a small shop space in a developing commercial strip. The signboard had not yet been fully painted.

Dayo stepped out first.

"Close your eyes," he told the boy.

The boy obeyed without asking questions.

Dayo guided him gently forward.

"Open."

The boy opened his eyes.

In front of him was a shop.

Clean.

Freshly arranged.

Inside, shelves lined the walls. Equipment neatly displayed. Buckets. Mixers. Tools. Materials stacked properly. And near the center, still inside its carton, a brand new tile cutter.

The boy did not move.

He just stared.

Dayo spoke calmly.

"You say you dey learn tile work."

The boy nodded slowly.

"This one na your own."

Silence.

The words took time to land.

"Everything here," Dayo continued, "na for you."

The boy’s face emptied. Completely blank. He walked slowly into the shop as if stepping into a dream he was afraid to wake from.

He stopped in front of the tile cutter.

Brand new.

Still boxed.

He bent down and touched the carton.

His hands trembled.

Then suddenly he dropped to his knees.

The sound shocked everyone.

Before anyone could react, he tore open the carton with his bare hands. When the cutter came into full view, he let out a broken sound from his throat.

Not a shout.

Not a scream.

Something deeper.

He rolled forward onto the tiled floor, uncaring that the brand new clothes were staining. Dust clung to the fabric. He didn’t notice.

He cried.

Openly.

No restraint.

The emotion was raw. Years of swallowed frustration breaking at once.

He crawled toward Dayo and held his leg tightly.

"Thank you sir... thank you sir..." he kept repeating, his voice shaking violently.

Dayo stood there, stunned he remembered in the conversation he had with the boy that he was learning the skill of tiles so Dayo decided to suprise him not fully expecting such reaction.

He had expected happiness.

Not collapse.

Not this.

He bent down slowly and tried to lift him.

"It okay," he said quietly. "Stand up."

But the boy kept crying.

Even some of Dayos team behind Dayo looked away to hide their own reactions.

Dayo felt something tighten in his chest.

A few tears slipped down his own face before he could stop them.

He imagined what it must feel like to see your entire future change in one moment. Not because of luck. But because someone decided to believe you.

After a while, the boy calmed enough to stand.

"You go run am well?" Dayo asked gently.

The boy nodded repeatedly.

"I go run am well. I promise."

"Good."

Later that evening, Dayo asked to be taken to where the boy lived.

The house was small. Modest. Tired walls. Quiet compound.

An older woman sat outside on a low stool. Her leg was swollen noticeably, wrapped loosely in cloth.

When the boy rushed forward shouting excitedly, she struggled to stand.

"Ma," the boy said breathlessly, "come see!"

Dayo stepped forward respectfully.

The woman’s eyes widened in confusion when she realized who stood in front of her.

Then realization mixed with disbelief.

She tried to kneel immediately.

Dayo moved fast and knelt before she could.

In Yoruba culture, an elder must not kneel for a younger person. He understood that deeply.

She placed both hands on his head.

And she began to pray.

Not short prayer.

Deep prayer.

Heavy Yoruba words poured from her mouth. Words of protection. Words of elevation. Words asking God to guard him from enemies seen and unseen.

Dayo felt small under it.

Helpless in a different way.

He kept saying, "Amin... Amin... Amin..."

Her voice grew stronger as she spoke. Emotion filled it when she described how life had changed for them. Her husband had died years ago. No children of her own. The boy was her sister’s son. She had taken him in. Things were manageable until her leg condition worsened. Work stopped. Money stopped. Treatment became impossible.

The boy stood quietly beside them, eyes still red.

When she finally paused to breathe, Dayo spoke gently.

"Ma. We go treat the leg."

She blinked.

"Eh?"

"I go handle am."

For a second she did not react.

Then she began praying again.

Stronger.

Harder.

Dayo almost laughed helplessly through it, still kneeling.

After some time, she calmed.

She held his hand tightly.

"You go live long," she said firmly. "You no go bury your children. Your enemies no go see your end."

He bowed his head respectfully.

When he finally stood up, the sun was already lowering.

He looked at the boy one last time.

"Tomorrow, open shop," he said.

The boy nodded.

"Yes sir."

"And run am well O." Dayo said with a playful warning.

"Yes sir." The boy smiled tears still on his check

The woman smiled and replied. "Sir don’t worry I would make sure he takes care of it sir."

Dayo smiled at woman. "Alright ma take care ma my team would reach out to you."

As Dayo walked back toward the car, the woman was still murmuring blessings behind him.

Inside the vehicle, silence filled the space.

Sharon glanced at him.

"You are quiet."

He stared out the window.

"I just did small thing," he said.

But he knew it wasn’t small.

And somewhere inside him, something heavy had shifted he felt happy and greatful to be able to bring out a family out of struggle and suffering. There was just little he could do and he made sure to always remind himself that he should always give back to the society.

"Sir Dayo what do you plan to do with the videotape any plans on posting it ?." One of his team camera man asked.

Dayo answered immediately "No there are some kindness that are best left in the dark so this is one of those."

They all nodddd in understanding as this was not the first time Dayo had done this.

The car drove off slowly, leaving behind a small house, a healed future in motion, and prayers still hanging in the air.