Before The Funeral Rain

Before The Funeral Rain Season 1

Season 1: Before the Rain

Chapter One: The Day Nothing Felt Wrong

Lagos had a way of pretending everything was fine.
The traffic was loud, the sun was stubborn, and people moved like nothing in the world ever broke them for too long. Even the air smelled like life—fuel, street food, dust, and laughter all mixed together.
On days like this, people believed in tomorrow without thinking too hard about it.
So did Amara.
She stood at the small bus stop near her street, adjusting the strap of her worn backpack. Her school uniform was slightly faded from too many washes, but she didn’t care. What mattered was that today felt normal.
And normal was something she had learned to appreciate.
“Amara!” a voice called.
She turned and saw Tomiwa jogging toward her, one earbud hanging out, his tie loose like he always wore it. He looked like someone who was always slightly late to everything, even life itself.
“You almost left without me again,” he said, falling into step beside her.
“I didn’t almost leave you,” Amara replied. “You were just late again.”
Tomiwa smiled like he had heard that line a thousand times and still liked it every time.
They walked together toward school.
It wasn’t anything special. They had been classmates for years. Same jokes, same arguments, same routine. But somewhere along the line, the routine had started feeling… different.
Not loud. Not obvious.
Just softer.
Like a page slowly turning.
“You’re quiet today,” Tomiwa said after a while.
“I’m always quiet,” Amara answered.
“No,” he said. “Not like this. You look like you’re thinking too much.”
Amara almost laughed. If only he knew.
She had been thinking a lot lately. About tiredness that didn’t make sense. About chest pains that came and left like strangers. About how sometimes the world looked slightly blurred at the edges.
But she didn’t say that.
Instead she said, “Maybe I’m just bored of your voice.”
Tomiwa gasped dramatically. “Wicked. After all I’ve done for you?”
“You’ve done nothing.”
“I exist near you. That’s emotional labor.”
That made her laugh. Properly.
And for a moment, everything felt light again.

CHAPTER TWO: Small Signs

School was noisy as always.
Teachers shouted. Chairs scraped. Someone was always running late. Someone was always selling something they shouldn’t be selling.
Amara liked it because it distracted her.
But distraction doesn’t last forever.
By third period, she felt it again—the strange pressure in her chest. Not pain exactly. More like her body was quietly reminding her it existed.
She pressed her hand against her uniform and breathed slowly.
It passed.
It always passed.
“Are you okay?” a voice whispered.
Tomiwa had noticed.
“I’m fine,” she said quickly.
He didn’t look convinced. “You’ve been saying that a lot lately.”
“I’m just tired.”
“From what? You barely do anything stressful.”
That was the problem.
She should’ve been fine.
But fine was starting to feel like a lie she repeated often enough to believe.
After school, they sat under the old mango tree behind the classroom block. It was their usual spot. A place where noise faded into background life.
Tomiwa was drawing something in his notebook. Amara leaned her head back, watching the sky shift from harsh blue to something softer.
“What are you drawing?” she asked.
“You’ll laugh.”
“Try me.”
He turned the notebook slightly toward her.
It was her.
Not perfect. Not detailed. But recognizable. The shape of her face. The way her hair curled slightly at the ends. Even the quiet expression she didn’t know she had.
Amara stared at it longer than she expected to.
“You’re weird,” she finally said.
“That’s not a denial.”
“It’s not an acceptance either.”
Tomiwa smiled. “I’ll take it.”
She should’ve teased him more.
Instead, she found herself saying, “Why do you draw me?”
That question made him pause.
For the first time, he didn’t answer immediately.
“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “You just… stay in my head more than you should.”
Amara looked away quickly, like the words were too heavy to hold directly.
The wind moved through the trees above them.
Somewhere far off, thunder growled—low and distant.
But the sky was still clear.