Livestreamers were even louder:
@SceneQueen: I'm crying. Crying in 4K. Who let this be so good??
@CineCritique: This is Oscar tier. I'm not joking. I need a full movie adaptation.
@WarriorFanatic: It wasn't just a tribute. It was a soul laid bare. That's cinema.
Director Naledi stepped back, his head high, his gift echoing louder than any drumroll. In his eyes, pride danced, quiet and smug. He knew exactly what he had done.
And Somto?
Still silent. Still composed.
But his jaw relaxed slightly, his eyes resting on the screen even after it vanished.
Not a word spoken.
But somehow, everyone felt it:
That gift had hit somewhere deep.
The murmurs of awe had barely settled from the previous gift when the soft click of polished heels echoed across the ceremonial hall.
A tall, statuesque figure with dramatic flair approached, her entrance as dazzling as her creations. It was none other than Dame Yalora, the continent's most sought after fashion designer.
