The Weekend That Changed Nothing… Or So They Thought

Saturday morning came with the kind of peace Lagos rarely offered.

No rush to beat office traffic.

No endless emails.

No design meetings.

For the first time in weeks, Zai allowed herself to sleep past seven.

She woke to the smell of fried akara drifting into her room.

“Mummy…”

She smiled as she stretched.

“You’ve started without me.”

“I called you twice.”

Mama Zainab replied from the kitchen.

“You were sleeping like somebody that worked in a quarry.”

Tobi laughed from the sitting room.

“Leave her. CEOs need their rest.”

Zai walked out and threw a kitchen towel at him.

“I’m not a CEO.”

“Not yet.”

He grinned.

“But when you become one, don’t forget who used to wash your plates.”

“I’ll hire you.”

“As what?”

“My official plate washer.”

The room erupted in laughter.

For a few minutes, life felt wonderfully ordinary.

After breakfast, Zai carried her sketchbook outside.

Their compound wasn’t fancy.

Children played football with a faded plastic ball.

Someone argued over change at the provision shop.

A generator coughed to life somewhere down the street.

This was the Lagos she knew.

The Lagos that had shaped her.

She sat beneath the mango tree near the gate and began sketching.

An elderly man who lived three houses away slowed as he passed.

“You still draw every weekend?”

She looked up and smiled.

“Morning, Uncle Kunle.”

“I’ve been seeing you with that book since you were in secondary school.”

He pointed to the pages.

“One day people will pay plenty money for those drawings.”

“I hope so.”

He laughed.

“Hope is good.”

Then he continued walking.

By noon, she had completed three rough concepts for the competition.

None of them felt complete.

She tore one page out.

Then another.

Tobi wandered over carrying two sachets of chilled zobo.

“You’ve destroyed enough paper to open your own recycling company.”

She accepted the drink.

“I know something is missing.”

“What?”

“I don’t know.”

He looked at one of the remaining sketches.

“I don’t understand fashion.”

She laughed.

“I noticed.”

“But I understand you.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“When you draw from your head…”

He tapped the page.

“…your work is good.”

Then he tapped her chest gently.

“When you draw from here…”

“…it’s different.”

She stared at him.

“Since when did you become motivational speaker?”

“I watch plenty videos.”

She burst into laughter.

Across town, Raymond wasn’t having a peaceful Saturday.

He sat alone in his home office surrounded by reports he wasn’t reading.

His laptop displayed quarterly financial projections.

He had been on the same page for twenty minutes.

A knock interrupted him.

“Come in.”

Adanna stepped inside.

“I thought you were working.”

“I am.”

She looked at the untouched screen.

“Are you?”

He rubbed his forehead.

“My mind is just crowded.”

She nodded.

“I understand.”

She placed a file on his desk.

“The mentorship programme budget.”

“I’ll review it.”

“No rush.”

She turned to leave.

Then paused.

“I met Chief Balogun’s wife yesterday.”

Raymond looked up.

“Oh?”

“She spoke very highly of Zainab.”

He smiled without thinking.

“She’s talented.”

“I agree.”

Another pause.

“Talent needs guidance.”

“It does.”

Adanna held his gaze for a moment.

“So does admiration.”

Then she left the room before he could ask what she meant.

Sunday afternoon brought unexpected rain.

Zai had just finished helping her mother prepare lunch when her phone rang.

It was an unknown number.

She almost ignored it.

“Hello?”

“Good afternoon. Am I speaking with Miss Zainab Adebayo?”

“Yes.”

“My name is Mrs. Ibidun Balogun.”

Zai immediately sat upright.

“Good afternoon, Ma.”

“I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Not at all.”

“I wanted to thank you.”

“For what?”

“My gown.”

She smiled.

“I wore it to a charity dinner last night.”

“And?”

“I’ve never received so many compliments.”

Zai’s face lit up.

“I’m so happy.”

“You should be.”

Mrs. Balogun laughed warmly.

“Tell Raymond he was right.”

“Right about what?”

“About you.”

Zai hesitated.

“I will.”

“Oh.”

Mrs. Balogun added quickly.

“I also wanted to ask something.”

“Yes, Ma?”

“Do you take private clients?”

There it was.

The kind of opportunity she’d dreamed about.

“I do.”

“Wonderful.”

“My assistant will call you during the week.”

“We’ll discuss a few pieces I’d like you to make personally.”

After the call ended, Zai sat silently for several seconds.

Then she ran into the kitchen.

“Mummy!”

Mama Zainab nearly dropped the spoon she was holding.

“What happened?”

“I think…”

She struggled to contain her excitement.

“…I just got my first elite private client.”

Her mother hugged her tightly.

“Praise God.”

Tobi danced around the kitchen dramatically.

“My sister has entered the big league!”

Monday morning, the news spread through LuxeThread faster than Zai expected.

Mrs. Balogun had personally thanked the company for recommending such a talented young designer.

People congratulated her throughout the morning.

Most were genuinely happy.

Some were quietly envious.

As she walked toward the design studio, she overheard two employees speaking near the fabric store.

“I heard Balogun requested her personally.”

“That was fast.”

“It helps when the CEO is your biggest fan.”

The words stopped her in her tracks.

Neither employee realized she had heard them.

She walked away before they noticed.

For the first time…

The whispers had reached her ears.

Later that afternoon, Raymond called an executive meeting.

Department heads filled the boardroom.

Adanna sat at one end of the table reviewing documents.

As the meeting progressed, Raymond presented a proposal.

“I’d like Zainab to assist with the Johannesburg presentation.”

The room became quiet.

One manager nodded immediately.

“She deserves it.”

Another looked uncertain.

“She’s talented.”

He chose his words carefully.

“But she’s also been here less than a month.”

The silence that followed was uncomfortable.

Then Adanna calmly closed her notebook.

“I agree.”

Everyone turned toward her.

“With which part?”

Raymond asked.

“Both.”

She folded her hands on the table.

“She’s talented.”

She looked around the room.

“And she’s also been here less than a month.”

Nobody spoke.

She continued.

“If we promote people faster than our processes allow…”

She smiled politely.

“…we won’t only damage morale.”

“We’ll damage them.”

Raymond leaned back in his chair.

“So what’s your suggestion?”

“Let her earn Johannesburg.”

The room remained silent.

“Give her the same opportunity everyone else has.”

She glanced briefly toward Raymond.

“If she’s truly exceptional…”

Her voice remained calm.

“…she won’t need anyone moving the finish line for her.”

Raymond said nothing.

Because deep down…

He knew she was right.

And for the first time since Zai joined LuxeThread…

He realized something uncomfortable.

Every opportunity he had given her had been deserved.

But if he kept choosing her…

Soon…

Nobody else would believe that.

Engagement Question

If you were Raymond, would you step back from mentoring Zai to protect her reputation, or continue because you genuinely believe in her talent?

To be continued…