Chapter 52: A Shadow from the Past
1302words
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Inner Monologue (Eki)
My stomach twisted with a bad feeling and lots of anger. How could I have been so trusting? The Olumide family, who provided money for the project, had gained their wealth by taking advantage of artists. Would people view the cultural centre as a tribute to creativity or as a sign of this hidden dark truth?
The article's effect came fast and was harsh. Chief Olumide, shown as the bad guy, had to deal with public mockery and increasing stress from investors. His one-time shining reputation now ruined, turned into an outcast among the elite in Lagos. Eki started getting urgent calls from donors who were now thinking of withdrawing their support; their excitement had changed to a feeling of doubt and mistrust.
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That construction site, once lively and full of energy, now seemed wrapped in an uneasy quiet. The regular sounds of hammering had stopped; instead, there were only whispers and anxious looks shared among the workers. Old newspapers with Olajumoke's story on the front page are lying everywhere, showing broken hopes.
Even though there was much disorder, Eki stayed concentrated on finishing the project. Every day, she had meetings and kept talking with donors and artists without getting tired, her positive attitude shining brightly like a light in rough times. However, a dark shadow hung over her, a worry that the centre's reputation would be always stained by the Olumide family's dishonesty.
One afternoon, a tired-looking Chief Olumide came into Eki's office with haste. His usual confident look was now gone, replaced by a sad slump in his shoulders.
"Eki," he said in a rough voice, full of desperation, "you must help. They will take everything from me."
Eki looked at him with both anger and pity in her eyes. "This is your problem, Chief," she said firmly. "But the cultural centre isn't about you. It's about the artists, about Lagos."
Chief Olumide slammed his hand on the table. "Don't be naive, girl! "This project would not even start if Olumide's name was not there. And now, because of that… that journalist… everything is falling apart."
Eki swallowed her anger. This wasn't the time for accusations. "The people must know the truth," she said. "But we cannot allow their anger to ruin what we have made."
A small flash of cleverness came back to Chief Olumide's eyes. "Then let them see the good," he suggested, his voice smooth and sly. "Organize a grand fundraiser, a spectacle that will remind everyone why this centre matters."
Eki hesitated. Would a fundraiser, fueled by guilt money, be the answer? But seeing the sorrowful faces of the artists who relied on finishing the project, she understood she didn't have many choices.
"Alright," she conceded. "We'll do the fundraiser. But as I see it, it will be a celebration of Lagos's artistic soul, not a cry for help from the Olumide family.
Chief Olumide gave a quick nod, his eyes shining with some secret plan. When he started to go away, he said something quietly that Eki almost didn't hear. "Don't worry, child. This will all be settled… one way or another."
Eki felt cold shivers going down her back, uneasiness spreading on her skin. The way Chief Olumide talked had a hidden threat in it like he was suggesting something dangerous without saying it directly. This made Eki very worried and fearful inside.
The fundraiser was very lively and crowded. Artists gave their artworks, musicians performed without payment, and many important persons from the city came to attend. Their faces had smiles that seemed a little forced as if they were trying hard to be nice. Eki, despite having her doubts, put all her effort into making sure the event would be successful.
The air had a mix of nervous excitement. The smells from costly perfumes mixed with the scents from high-class catered dishes. Bright lights from spotlights shine on a mix of people—artists who live tough lives and wear old clothes stand next to wealthy socialites with very shiny jewellery. Eki, dressed in a plain yet nice gown, feels out of place among the glittering crowd.
In the late night, as people talked and donations came in, a loud noise suddenly happened near the entrance. Eki went through the crowd to see what was going on and saw Ayo with a very scared face pointing at the door.
"Eki," Ayo stammer it's him! The true collector!"
Eki's heart jumped big. At the door was a tall, thin person with eyes shining strange blue light, looking around the room like a hunter searching for prey.
The crowd, not feeling any threat, kept enjoying themselves. Eki knew she must act quickly. She made an apology to the group of donors and then went towards the real collector, her voice steady even though her hands were shaking a lot.
"You are not welcome here," she said, voice strong in a way that surprised me. "This is a celebration of art, not a place for your bad mood."
The real collector turned his head to the side, with a scary smile on his face. "Such lovely things," he said in a voice like a cold wind. "So full of… life force. Perfect fuel for my master's insatiable hunger."
A wave of terror washed over Eki. These weren't empty threats. He came here to take energy from the cultural centre, linking Ile Ife not as strongly.
"Leave," she hissed, her voice laced with desperation. "This isn't yours to control."
The real collector laughed, and the sound was like nails scratching on a chalkboard. "This city, this entire world... it will all be my master's someday."
He raised his hand, and his thin fingers shone with scary light. A dark energy wave came from him, reaching out to the bright paintings on the walls and sticking to them. The colours began to dull, the life slowly draining out of the creations.
Suddenly, someone appeared from the crowd. His eyes were full of challenge. This person was Dapo, holding a camera very tightly in his hands.
"Leave them alone!" he shouted, snapping a picture of the true collector. "The power of art is stronger than you!"
The real collector stopped for a little bit, his eyes getting smaller as he looked at Dapo. He seemed upset for a brief moment, breaking the scary look on his face. Suddenly, he made a big growling sound and disappeared into a thin line of black smoke. This made everyone feel very scared.
Eki rushed to the spot where Dapo was, feeling very happy and relaxed. "You were brave," she said with a voice that trembled from how grateful she felt. "He almost…"
But before she could finish speaking, Dapo's phone made a sound. He looked at the screen, and suddenly his face became very pale.
"Eki," he said, his voice barely a whisper, "you need to see this."
He gave his phone to her. On the screen, it showed a news article with a picture of Eki and Chief Olumide shaking hands at the fundraiser event. The headline screamed: "Art or Exploitation? Cultural Center Built on Shady Dealings."
Eki's stomach churned. Just when she thought they were making progress, another obstacle emerged. But when she looked into Dapo's strong eyes, new courage grew inside her. They had faced problems before and would face more in the future too. The struggle for the cultural centre, along with the battle against the actual collector, was still not finished.
