Theme Layout

Boxed or Wide or Framed

Theme Translation

Display Featured Slider

Featured Slider Styles

Display Trending Posts


Display Instagram Footer

userId: 2262549106, accessToken: '2262549106.1677ed0.760f3d756da04b01ada6b337010cb095',

Dark or Light Style

Observations of a Young Nigerian Female . Powered by Blogger.

About Me

My photo
I am young, "normal" and I like to write. People say I eat too much, people don't know what they are saying.

Search This Blog


Grand Shower at the Golden Tulip

"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.

You Might Also Like

No comments

Post a Comment

I am a young, Nigerian female who does not possess the abilities and genetic disposition to reserve her comments.

Follow @young_nigerian_female