The day everything changed

I turned 20 thinking it would be like every other birthday.

A few calls, maybe some cake, the same familiar faces, and that quiet hope that this year would finally feel different maybe more intentional, more exciting because I am becoming a big girl, I mean it's being 20 years. But nothing prepared me for what actually happened. My life didn’t just take a turn; it spun completely.

Let me paint the picture.

All my life, I’ve known peace. Not wealth, not drama. Just the simple life. My dad was the kind of man who kept to himself, soft-spoken, always in control of his emotions, a little too serious sometimes. My mum? The stronger one. Always two steps ahead of everybody. Not loud, but you could never catch her off guard. I thought that was just parenting.

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Turns out, I was being raised by descendants of two completely different worlds.

My dad? Not some quiet civil servant like he made us believe. He’s the runaway son of a notorious warlord the kind of man who built empires off fear. I’m talking full-on criminal legacy: men who rule territories without ever being elected, who wear silence like armour and have stories that can’t be told without someone flinching. My dad ran from that. Changed his name. Started over. But blood is blood.

And my mum? She’s not just "sharp." She's the daughter of a government-level secret agent. Like actual espionage, hidden files, missions in foreign countries, burner phones, the kind of stuff we laugh about in movies. She didn’t just inherit intelligence; she was trained to survive with it.

So guess what?
On the day I turned 20, both families decided it was time.

Time to "reclaim their legacy."
Time for me to "step into what I was born for."
Time to choose a side.

Imagine that. You wake up thinking about birthday pancakes, and by sundown, you're being asked to pick between power and honour. Between a kingdom of fear… and a life in the shadows.

One family promised wealth, protection, and loyalty a seat at the table where no one speaks unless you give the go-ahead. The other promised purpose, legacy, service to something greater a life lived silently but with meaning.

One said, “Let them fear you.”
The other said, “Let them never see you coming.”

And me? I just sat there thinking, “What is happening to my life?”

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At first, it felt cool. Like something out of a novel. But then reality hit: these aren’t just stories. People die in these worlds. Families are torn apart. Peace is a privilege you pay for, one way or another.

I had to be honest with myself, I didn’t want blood on my hands. Not for control. Not for justice. Not for anybody’s version of legacy.

But the truth is, neither family was asking. They were both expecting.

I thought about running. I really did. New country, fake name, just disappear. But where do I start from,I don't even know anybody what about the money,which country do I even want to go to. But even I knew, people like them don’t let go. And I’m not naive enough to think I’d be left alone.

So I had to do something smarter. Something bold.

I called them. Separately, of course.
And I said the same thing to both:

"I'm not ready to choose, if you want me you'll have to train me first".

It was risky. I could’ve offended both sides. But surprisingly, they agreed.

But deep down, I know what I’m really doing.
I’m stalling.
Buying time.
Trying to figure out if there’s a third way.

A path that doesn’t come from blood or legacy.
A path I create myself, not inherited, but built.

Maybe I can redefine what it means to carry a powerful name.
Maybe I can be both their child and still fully myself.