Chapter 4: Queen Moves

4

A woman’s instinct hardly dey lie.

I woke up the next morning with a heaviness in my chest, that sixth sense that always tells you when gist dey cook for behind. Even though I only met Aisha Musa once, I could see she had another plan for Odogwu Nnamdi.

It’s the kind of thing you smell, not see—the way antelope knows lion is near. I thought my warning was enough, but the next day, the necklace from the auction—meant for me—was hanging on her neck.

Ngozi, Odogwu Nnamdi’s main assistant, sent me a photo and a screenshot from WhatsApp status.

Ngozi never carried last with office gist. The moment the matter land, her fingers dey type message sharp-sharp. In the photo, a crescent-shaped diamond necklace rested on Aisha Musa’s fair neck, making her look even more sweet and attractive.

The way the light hit her skin, the necklace sparkled, drawing the eye in a way that could make even a bishop stare. Her eyes were red and swollen, but she was still smiling. She must have cried hard after going home last night—and then received a gift from someone.

The screenshot was Aisha Musa’s post:

Chief talk say, make girls strong even if dem vex you.

Wipe away the tears. Yes, sir, my chief.

With some cute fist-pump emojis, and a picture of the necklace in its box.

Those emojis, ehn! As if to add salt to my injury. That moment, my body cold like ice.

As much as I hate to admit, I was so provoked I almost lost my home training. The feeling was bitter, like when pure white wrapper suddenly gets one drop of palm oil.

My mouth was dry, and I paced up and down my room, thinking: If not for my status, I for just call that girl and warn her with my own mouth. It was a strange feeling for me. I even felt like, no matter what, to drive my yellow Benz at 180 kilometers per hour just to go slap that girl myself.

But when I looked at my hand, I realized it was beneath me to stoop to the level of that kind of green leaf schemer.

Instead, I called Sade at Polo Avenue.

Sade sounded happy, almost couldn’t hide her excitement.

"Madam Nnamdi, abeg no worry. Even if I have to empty the shop, I’ll gather all the necklaces and make sure they reach you. Lagos traffic no fit stop me today—NEPA even try, light dey!"

Her laughter jingled in my ear, sharp and sweet. The way Lagos society works, if you want to pass a message, you do it with style, not with shouting. So that day, before close of work, every female executive assistant and staff in the chief’s office at Nnamdi Group headquarters—except Aisha Musa—a total of forty-six people, received a lavish gift from the chief’s wife:

A Polo Avenue necklace worth 1.2 million naira each.

The price no reach the twenty-million-naira auction necklace, but the quantity made up for it. It was fair for everybody.

Ngozi handled everything well. She told everyone to post on WhatsApp status with this caption:

The chief’s wife says every girl deserves better.

Chief talk say, make girls strong even if dem vex you.

Of course, the staff were happy to do it. As assistants and office staff, they’re the gist center of the whole company. Now, after getting a gift from the chief’s wife, who no go show am online?

Some sharp ones even added: [The chief’s wife sabi play o.]

One even snapped her necklace on top suya, another posed with her own in traffic, just to show the world. The assistants might not have the biggest influence, but when it comes to spreading gist in every department, nobody beat them. In less than half an hour, the whole company heard the chief’s wife gave out Polo Avenue necklaces. As for the reason, all the gossip groups were on fire.

The WhatsApp group for Nnamdi Group women exploded with, "Shey you see wetin Amaka do?" and "That one, na real queen moves!"

Aisha Musa’s face turned pale. Embarrassed, with red eyes, she hid in the toilet to remove the diamond necklace. Two colleagues entered to touch up their makeup, laughing when they saw her.

"See as she dey do like say na she be madam!"

"Abi o, abeg commot that necklace make another person fit see road."

Aisha Musa, ashamed, lowered her head and rushed out, their mocking voices following her.

Her cheeks burned as she put the necklace back in its box and returned it to Odogwu Nnamdi, just as it was.

Her fingers shook, and I could imagine her heart racing. That day, everybody for office learn say, for Lagos, position na power.