THE REAL TYCOON (FICTION)____DAILY PROMPT 5TH SEPT

They called him "Tycoon Tunde" in our street.

Not because he was rich.
Because he sold pure water.

Tunde was 14 when his dad lost his job. One week later, the rent was due.
So Tunde took the last ₦2,000 in the house and bought 10 bags of sachet water.

He’d wake up 4am. Ice them. Push the cooler on a wheelbarrow.
"Pure water! Cold cold!" till his throat was dry.

People laughed. "Look at this small boy. Tycoon."

2 years later, that same wheelbarrow became 3 tricycles.
Delivering water to shops, schools, churches.

5 years later, Tunde owned the factory.
The one printing the sachets. The one everybody buys from now.

I saw him last week at the market. Still wearing slippers.
Still greeting Mama Nkechi by name.
Still buying meat from the same woman he used to owe.

Someone asked him, "Oga Tycoon, how did you do it?"

He just shrugged and peeled groundnut.
"I wasn’t trying to be a tycoon ooo. I was just trying to make sure we ate today.
And tomorrow.
And the day after."

He looked at me and smiled.
"Tycoon is not money. Tycoon is not giving up when ₦2,000 is all you have."

I’m still thinking about that.

What if we’re all one bad day and one stubborn decision away from being called "tycoon"?

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