Chapter 6: Zainab’s Arrival and the Big Showdown

Maybe our voice loud, because one lady come with wine glass.

"I think I don see your picture before. You be Mr. Kunle, abi? Make I introduce myself—my name na Zainab."

The lady toast me.

Her perfume gentle, her smile calm. Her gele sit well, gold earrings flash for ear, her Yoruba accent soft but sure. People dey look her—everybody sabi say Zainab family get level for Abuja.

I pick my glass, touch am with her own. So na Miss Zainab be this. She look about my age, from good family. My mama get eye sha.

"Kunle, how many people you hire tonight? How you take fall reach like this? I blind for three years to follow you."

Morayo glare me, her eyes full of disappointment.

"Extra? Me?" Zainab point herself, smile at me. "Mr. Kunle, your taste no too good o."

I just apologize. "Miss Zainab, abeg sorry for this wahala."

She wave am off, her laughter soft, no be like the other industry girls. Some of the other big men for hall dey nod, dey measure me up and down.

"This your drama don do. Kunle, if person no know, dem go think say na you be actor. Abeg, make we end am. I go tell Tunde to forgive you for the insult."

I just smile. Na me cause am. Because I pretend poor for her self-esteem, now anything I talk, she go think say na lie.

My heart dey heavy, but for my face, I dey smile. E pain me say woman fit miss real man because of packaging.

"Miss Morayo, you no even know wetin you dey lose by leaving Mr. Kunle," Zainab talk with style.

Her voice get respect but strong, like person wey sabi value.

"I know wetin I dey lose—na just soft-rice man. Miss Zainab, shine your eye o, make he no use you."

Morayo look Zainab serious, but the lady just smile, shake head.

People dey murmur, some dey record for Instagram story. Lagos wahala no dey ever end.

I no wan hear again. I check time, call my assistant: "Why the person from Tunde family never reach?"

"Soon oga. We dey hotel gate, dey come inside now."

The hall dey smell of fried plantain and fresh perfume, music low but tension high. The place quiet, so everybody hear am.

E be like cold breeze just blow. Some people drop fork, dey wait make drama start. All those industry big men, their eye dey shine.

"Kunle, you don dey overdo. If you no respect yourself, I wan see who go pretend say na my papa. After tonight, nobody fit help you."

Tunde voice dey high, Morayo dey squeeze him hand like trophy.

I just ignore am, drink another glass. The organizers sabi say I picky with wine, the one tonight just manage. People begin gossip again, but I no send.

Soon, the door open.

Chairman for the hotel, follow by three elders, two women for iro and buba, step inside. Their presence heavy, silence fall for room. All the small small drama dey hush as people begin look. I shift my seat, dey ready.

"Make I see, who be my papa..."

The next moment, the real show begin. The kind wahala wey fit trend for Twitter. I adjust my native, face front, ready for anything. Tonight, everybody go know say real power no dey show for face.