"Why can’t I just go
tomorrow like everyone else? We know she invited me to rub our faces in their money.” I wailed at my mother.
“You are going for your cousin’s bridal shower. The end.” My
mom was unmoved by my wailing.
“Look on the bright side Nene, you get to sleep at a
veeeeery fancy hotel, with such great white beds and hot showers.” Jenny, my
sister said, always the ray of sun. I still didn’t want to go.
An hour later, I’d tried everything and I had no other
reason to stay. I bid my mom and sister goodbye and reluctantly trudged towards
the gate.
On my way to the Golden Tulip Hotel at GRA, I wondered what
the night would turn out to be like. Miranda is my cousin, the daughter of my
mother’s sister. We were not friends. Her mother married a rich man and so they
were financially better than my mom was, yet, for some reason her mom was
envious of my mom. According to family gossip, she had always envied my mom.
She envied her marriage, her children, her happiness; it was all so silly.
Last
month, Miranda called me up to say she was getting married and that she wanted
me to be a part of her bridal party.
“I’ll pay for the clothes and shoes”, she added.
“Clothes and shoes?” I asked, stressing the s.
“Yes” she answered, “the bridal shower outfit, the church
outfit and the reception dress. There are different shoes for each outfit.”
‘Oh’ was all I could say. It was a good thing she was
paying.
The cab dropped me off at Evo junction and I walked down to
the hotel gates. I entered into the gates and it felt like I had stepped out of
Port Harcourt and into another world. It was like a whole different city; so
serene, so beautiful, green grass, clean air, nobody was yelling, there was no
steaming pile of dirt, no one was trying to sell me “wonder working” batteries.
This might be a great weekend after all.
Upstairs, I met Miranda in a suite with her friends.
“Here’s your key card”, Miranda said, looking at my jeans
and t-shirt like I was wearing a rusty old bucket. Her friends didn’t spare me
a word after the first hair-to-toe glance.
The party wasn’t going to start until 9pm so I thought I’d
go get some sleep on those “great white beds”. Just then, Miranda shrieked,
threw her phone at the study table and began to wail.
It turned out her fiancé had decided he wasn’t ready for
marriage and was off to South Africa to find himself. While Miranda smeared her
face with several mascara streaks, I wondered what I was going to do with
myself. Then, I felt the key card in my hand and a grin spread over my face. It
was going to be a gooood night. Sorry, coz.
This story is for the Hotels.ng content writing challenge, as announced on https://hotels.ng/guides/uncategorized/content-writing-challenge/?utm_source=facebook-campaign;utm_medium=social;utm_content=content-writing-challenge. This story involves one of the top hotels in Africa, as seen through this link https://hotels.ng/top-hotels.
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