But why was I feeling as if I was under a spell? I thought as I finally got
to them. I didn’t know what to do, so I stood like a statue before them.
“Can you give us some shots, please?” One of the girls asked. Okay, so I
became their photographer, shebi na me wan make friends.
I gave them different shots. I was agape at the various styles they
displayed while I snapped them. The annoying part was that they were not
satisfied after I had taken them about thirty shots, if not forty.
“Thank you for the shots. It seems you like us. You can add us on Facebook
if you wish to see more of us,” the second girl said.
I was very happy. I quickly brought out my phone and gave them to type
their usernames. They laughed at my phone after typing and handing it back
to me. It was outdated, they said.
I felt ashamed of my phone since then and promised myself to do anything I
could to get their type of phones. Theirs looked smart and sparkled with
beautiful pouches while mine was mom’s very old Tecno phone that she gave
When we got home, I barely entered my room when I got a notification on
Facebook that the two girls had accepted my friend request. I was very
I explored their timelines, viewed their status, watched their Snapchat
videos and finally fed my eyes on their pictures. They were hot.
I was a novice on Facebook, I barely had up to twenty likes on my posts and
photos. The highest likes I had was fifty and I was so happy the day I had
But when I opened those girls’ timeline, I realized they had more than two
thousand likes on almost every post they made. They were indeed slay
queens, as they nicknamed themselves.
I felt depressed. I hated myself all of a sudden. They were my age mates,
yet they had everything, but I didn’t.
On every picture they posted, they wore different clothes and shoes and
even hair style. Why was I different? Why didn’t I have a smart phone?
Why do I look so ugly that I don’t have likes on my posts? Why didn’t I
have beautiful clothes and shoes like them? These were the questions that
got me depressed and angry.
I was so curious to know how they did it. I wanted to be popular like them.
I wanted to look beautiful and sexy, I wanted to wear their kind of clothes.
I dropped a message for them, asking them how they did it. They told me
they could make me popular within twenty four hours. I was very excited.
“First, you need to stop being mummy’s pet. You have to learn how to work
by your rules and not your mom’s, else, she will stop you from being
popular,” one of the girls whom I got to know that her name was Didi
replied to my message.
“How do I do that?” I asked her
“Slay queens are smart. If you must be one of us, you have to be smart. You
have to learn to take decisions. You need to start going out because once
we get acquainted with you, we’d be taking you out almost everyday” She