From the corner of the room, Chibuzor's eyes lingered on her a bit too long. 'She's… formidable.'
The old couple standing beside her on stage also smiled gently in approval with Old Madam's eyes literally saying I knew she could do it!
Meanwhile, Ifeoma fumed silently. 'Why does she have to do everything so perfectly?'
As Olaedo descended from the stage, she carried herself with the air of someone who belonged, leaving no doubt in anyone's mind: this was a woman worthy of the Arinze name.
Back at her table, Amaka squirmed in her seat, wishing the floor would swallow her whole. Meanwhile, Ifeoma couldn't help but glare at Olaedo, jealousy flaring in her chest. Even the stepmother, who had plotted in the shadows, tightened her grip on her wine glass, silently vowing revenge.
As the applause for Olaedo's speech died down, Ndidi leaned toward her husband. "She handled that beautifully. I will be back soon." Her tone was soft but her heart was bitter. Then she stood up and went to a corner.
Mr. Arinze nodded, but his sharp eyes scanned the crowd. He had seen the way some guests looked at Olaedo. The question wasn't if they would cause trouble, but when.
And trouble wasn't far off.
In a secluded corner of the ballroom, Olaedo's stepmother in law, Ndidi sat with a smug expression, her eyes gleaming with malice. "Let's see how long you can keep up this perfect facade, dear Young Madam," she whispered to herself.
The first shot of the evening's many battles had been fired, but the war was far from over.
The grand ballroom of the Arinze mansion stilled as the lights dimmed, a hush falling over the glittering crowd. An expectant silence replaced the earlier chatter as everyone turned toward the center of the room.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the host announced, his voice echoing through the hall, "please direct your attention to the floor as we welcome the country's finest traditional dance troupe, here to honor us with a performance befitting tonight's grandeur."
The dancers entered in a fluid, mesmerizing line, their vibrant, intricately embroidered costumes gleaming under the chandelier lights. The rhythmic sound of talking drums and flutes filled the air, blending seamlessly with the hum of an ogbongelenge.
A collective gasp swept through the crowd as the dancers took their places, their every movement exuding elegance, strength, and precision.
The performance began with a slow, deliberate tempo, a homage to ancestral traditions. The lead dancer, adorned with a headdress that sparkled with crystals, stepped forward and executed a sweeping gesture that seemed to pull the audience into their world. Each step told a story, the language of their feet and hands weaving the narrative of unity, resilience, and heritage.
"Look at their precision," Olaedo remarked quietly to Nnenna, who nodded, wide eyed.
The tempo picked up, and the dancers exploded into a whirlwind of energy. Their feet pounded against the floor in sync with the pulsating drums, and the room seemed to come alive with their infectious energy. Traditional chants, sung with booming voices, echoed off the high ceilings.
Guests couldn't help but clap along, some even rising from their seats in excitement.
"Now, this is what I call culture," one elder remarked with approval.
Even the younger guests, initially preoccupied with their phones or murmured conversations, were transfixed. The troupe transitioned into a segment that showcased a duel, a mock competition between male and female dancers, earning gasps and cheers as they leaped, spun, and feigned rivalry with practiced ease.
"They're incredible!" Ifeoma exclaimed, momentarily forgetting her reservations about the evening.
"Indeed," Chibuzor said quietly, though his gaze lingered more on Olaedo than the dancers.
The final act was a breathtaking combination of strength and artistry. Male dancers hoisted their partners high above their heads in perfect synchronization, their movements defying gravity. The lead dancer concluded with a series of backflips that seemed to defy the human body, landing seamlessly with one final, triumphant pose.
The crowd erupted in applause, some guests giving a standing ovation.
"I've seen countless dance troupes, but this one… they're on another level," a socialite murmured to her companion.
As the dancers bowed deeply to their audience, the master of ceremonies returned to the floor. "A truly spectacular performance! Let's hear it one more time for the pride of our culture!"
Olaedo clapped, a genuine smile on her face as she leaned toward Nnenna. "Their performance was flawless. It's moments like this that remind me how rich our heritage truly is."
------------------------------------------------
Guys, ogbongelenge means xylophone in English.
"Yes," Nnenna agreed. "If only we could preserve and celebrate it more often, like tonight."
The troupe exited to thunderous applause, leaving behind an electrified atmosphere and a palpable sense of awe.
But amidst the applause and cheer, a shadow flickered in a far corner of the room, a reminder that not everyone in the hall shared the celebratory mood.
What will come next? The thought lingered, heavy in the air, as the evening moved forward, building toward something inevitable.
The echoes of applause from the modest traditional dancers faded, leaving a warm hum in the room as the aristocrats resumed their leisurely conversations.
Seated in their gilded chairs, they sipped on fine wines and exchanged subtle remarks about the breathtaking performance, their tones varying between genuine admiration and carefully masked envy.
Waiters glided through the crowd with trays of hors d'oeuvres, their movements as precise as the dancers who had just exited the stage.
Chandeliers overhead bathed the grand hall in a golden glow, reflecting off sparkling jewelry and custom made suits, each guest a walking testament to wealth and power.
Finally, the event shifted to what most had come for, the mingling, the strategic networking, the forming of connections that could open doors to higher circles of influence.
At the center of it all, the evening's focal figures, Chibuzor and Olaedo, began their rounds.
Walking hand in hand, they navigated the room with practiced elegance, greeting guests and ensuring everyone felt seen and valued.