Toluwani 29

  


 

       Tiny streaks of sunlight filtered into Ife’s bedroom from the drapes on the window. The soft light struggled to penetrate the room, and through the only tiny opening it could find, it formed a tunnel and landed directly on Ife’s right cheek where she slept facing the window.

The streak of light was warm on her skin and she roused lazily from her sleep. She stretched and yawned languidly as she flicked her eyelids open. She checked the alarm clock beside her bed it was 9:14 am.

It was a Sunday and she had slept far into the morning.

She had no appointment to catch up with or any serious business to do throughout the day. She decided she could languid in bed for as long as she desires.

No plans. No meetings. No shootings. Just a baby girl that needs to pamper herself.

As she yawned the second time and repositioned her legs from underneath the bed covers, she decided she was going to hang out in the evening with sola or all by herself if he would be busy with other things.

She remembered the events of the previous day in a rush and a wave of anger shook over her.

 She recalled the details of the party vividly like someone was playing the tape for her. She reasoned that everything had been disastrous about the event from the onset. It all started with Sola’s mum inviting Tolu personally to the wedding and Sola procrastinating on the announcement of the wedding to her.

It didn’t stop there; she had disliked the choice of colors selected by the couple for the event outrightly. She had only refused to talk about it Sola because she knew he would never share her opinion on that and would instead tell her in his husky voice, “This is one of the complicating things about you women that I can’t comprehend. You fuss over everything even to the point of being obsessed about colors.” And would dismiss the subject immediately.

But who for heaven’s sake chooses a magenta and gold color combination for a wedding? I don’t want to imagine who advised them. She shrugged as she rolled her eyes.

People need to understand the concept of trendiness and be ready to be a part of it they must be a vibrant voice in the society.

And then, they had gotten to the party only for Tolu’s mother to ruin the day from the beginning. Thinking about it now, bile rose in her throat towards her. She feels like clawing her throat with her nails while making her daughter watch it.

 

She had only been trying to tolerate Tolu. Not that she resents her, but she had rather not have her around, especially when Sola is involved. And now her mother had worsened the situation.

She anticipates the day when she would be able to give them pieces of her mind. She would start with the mother and then come back to deal with the daughter.

That would be perfect! She prays they get to meet at an event soon and they would forever learn to respect her!

Good! She reasoned! You need to be able to shove some people’s nonsense down their throat and that’s the exact thing she would do!

 

Ife recalled that she had put the event behind her and had started to loosen up at the party when she realized that Sola had not been paying attention to all she had been saying several minutes before then.

She was outraged when she discovered that he had been inattentive because he was watching Tolu talk with some other guy.

The realization had sparked something in her head. it was like someone had rekindled the fire she was trying to douse. She didn’t know what came over her, the only thing she could recall vividly was Sola dragging her out of the hall with every single pair of eyes in the room on them.

Sola had refused to listen to her side of the story when she called him last night. He was clearly furious and won’t hear a word about it from her.

If she hadn’t agreed to let things be, whatever strings that were left of their relationship would have been completely severed last night.

She won’t discuss with Sola anymore but she would do just as she had concluded in her head. that way, the score would be settled and she won’t have to go about with a bruised ego.

She was Miss Tourism Nigeria after all and certain people needed to be reminded of her position.

Her stomach growled running her plans of staying in bed till 10:0am. She ignored it and picked up her iPhone which lay by her pillow instead.

She glanced at the notification bar for any missed calls or important messages, upon realizing that there were none, she made to log into her social accounts for the day when her tummy rumbled again. this time, she couldn’t ignore it and so she threw the bed covers off her, stepped into her robes, and made her way to the kitchen barefooted.

She searched her fridge for something she could fix quickly. She found spaghetti in the freezer and brought it out. She took a plate, poured some into it, and put it to warm in the microwave. She returned the spaghetti to the freezer and picked up an old magazine that was on her kitchen table to while away the time until her breakfast is ready.

Beep! Beep!

The microwave screeched. She moved close to it, opened it, and checked the temperature. It was fine for her.

She turned the spaghetti with the chicken into another eating dish and balanced herself on the kitchen stool.

While she ate, she continued to leaf through the pages of the magazine and made a mental note to put a call through to some fashion brand she had seen in there.

She thought she heard her phone ring. She paused her meal and waited to hear again just to be sure. It came again and she decided at the last minute to attend to it when she gets back to her bedroom.

 

But the calls came again and again. They came three times after the initial ring.

On the fourth ring, she knew it was an urgent call and left her breakfast to answer it.

Who could it be?

Her mother?
Or one of those people?

Her heart sank in terror as she pondered on what she might have done wrong again.

Their calls usually left her depressed and broken. She hoped the call won’t ruin her day as it was just starting.

Her heart began to beat fast for reasons she couldn’t explain as she hit the answer button on her iPhone just before the call would drop again.

She glanced at the ID. It was Modele, one of her closest friends. She heaved a sigh and answered the call. 

“Ife, have you seen it?” Modele asked in a rush over the phone, bypassing any form of greeting.

Ife’s heart began to beat faster and she could almost hear the rhythm of it in her ears. Modele has never been one to take things seriously, she was the kind of person who would ask after everyone in your family before she proceeds to state the purpose of her call but this morning was different.

Panic raced through Ife’s veins as she asked, “seen what?”

“Ahhh Ife! The clip of you disrupting a wedding event. It’s been trending on social media especially IG since last night and people are beginning to call you out,” Modele explained and began to cry.

Ife tried to understand what her friend was saying. It was sounding like Japanese to her.

People call her out? Why?

What had she done wrong?

This was a world where people get to find out things about you even before you do. Social media is an altar of making and marring especially when it comes to reputation and images.

One of the most thriving places for scandals is the social media; netizens actually relish and survive on scandals. They feast on it like a meal, you will see them crowding a story the same way eagles will surround a carcass; sucking out the blood and tearing the flesh apart. Some of these cannibals won’t stop there, they would drink the blood, tear and eat the flesh and then dig into the bone to suck up whatever nutrient that might be left there.

Such is the culture of netizens; they dig up and even sometimes call others to come feast. However, there is no carcass here, what exists is personalities and reputations.

Neither are there long beaks in this world, their instrument are their fingers which they compel to do their biddings as they sit in front of their screens.  

 

“Ahhh, Modele, I’m ruined. My career is gone!” Ife said as she began to wail.

“What will happen to the crown and my several endorsements. I am finished.”

 

“Ahhhh, Ife did you really do it? I have been defending you out there,” she sobbed.

“I can’t explain what came over me. It was Sola. Modele, Sola made me do it. I wasn’t even thinking.”

“I’ve always known that guy isn’t as good as you paint him to be. I knew he would do something stupid.”

“I wouldn’t have done that if he hadn’t pushed me. I’m ruined. But it’s not really Sola. It’s his best friend and her mum. They caused this.”

“Ehh…,” Modele sat up straight on the other end, “Sola’s best friend caused this? She made this happen? Ife she must pay for this! What’s her handle? I’m going right now to call her out on IG,” she said firmly.

 

“No babe. Not so soon. That would only complicate things further. Remember I mustn’t call to much attention to myself especially over the internet. The Ganies guys are still keeping their eyes on me.”

 

“As for Sola’s best friend and her mother, I have my plans on how to deal with them and I don’t plan to do that through the internet, Netizens are always hungry, remember?” Ife told Modele.

 

“But babe, someone has to pay for this whether the silly blogger who uploaded the clip or sola or….”

 

“Not Sola!” Ife interrupted sharply.

 

“Ohh, sorry. Whether Sola’s best friend or her mother, someone must be held responsible,” Modele stated. She was thirsty for revenge and would stop at nothing to get it.

 

Ife knew Modele’s contributions to the conversation was senseless. Her instincts told her it wasn’t what she needed but she was clueless as to what to do.

Her reputation is just some shares, likes and views away from being dented completely. Her endorsements might be cancelled and her crown taken away.

The thought of that nearly made her heart to stop beating. From experience, she knew that if the scandal escalates and she was summoned on the basis of irresponsible character and she is first suspended and later removed from her position, she had just ended her own career with a kick at age 22.

 

She was helpless. She wondered what the big celebrities do when confronted with issues like this.

 

“Modele, why don’t you send me the clip. I need to see it for myself,” she was suddenly exhausted and spent.

“Okay. Someone needs to pay nevertheless,” Modele reiterated and dropped the call.

 

Ife sat on the edge of her bed. she couldn’t move or stretch. She could scarcely breathe. Several things drifted through her mind but they were baseless and useless.

All that ebbed through her mind was how she had just ruined her career with a kick.

 

What would her mother say? How about her siblings? And her father who had wanted her to be more.

How would Sola react to it? The Ganies media and everyone that knew her?

She knew her father doesn’t begrudge her crown but he isn’t happy of the story of how it came about. She isn’t proud of it either but she saw no other options to fulfilling her dream of being a beauty queen.

She hadn’t taken the option however, her mother had taken it for her and had promised to keep her tracks clear.

She has been living an outlined and detailed life since she came to prominence but a single event was about to destroy her.



To be continued.....

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