Original subtitles

Hi, Dere.

Hello, Daddy.

Are you very, very busy?

Oh, no. I'm just getting some writing done.

Yeah, that's-- It's very late.

I know, but it's the only time I have to get stuff done.

It's been really busy at work.

I know.

Dere, I'm sorry about... you know...

I'm gonna make this right, okay?

Don't worry about it, Dad.

I'm not getting it right here, abi? I don't know what to do.

It's fine, Dad. Don't worry about it.

I...

I didn't really want to miss your birthday.

I had my hands tied.

You don't have to explain yourself. I understand.

-You're married now. -No.

You're my daughter.

Nothing's gonna ever change that, you know.

Do you remember that night when Mum read my short story in your room?

When she looked up from her tablet and she said...

This is beautiful.

Thank you.

Oh, Dere.

You have a gift here.

Do you remember?

Yeah, I remember. I remember.

You must write.

I've been trying to keep my promise, but I'm struggling.

I'm just...

Each sentence is as if I'm extracting water from a rock.

I know.

But, Dere, you've been under a lot of pressure in the office, at home.

And there are changes happening all around you.

It's understandable.

What if Mum was wrong?

What if I can't do this? What if you are wrong, Dad?

If there's anything I'm sure about, it's your mother's instincts.

They were never, ever wrong.

You'll pull through this. Come on, don't give up. Chin up.

I miss you, Dad.

I miss you too, girl.

That night in your room with just the three of us,

that was the most magical night of my life.

Really?

-Yeah. -Why?

You told me you'd love me no matter what,

and Mum made me promise to continue doing something that brought tears to her eyes.

Yeah.

It's like...

I don't know.

Oh, Dere.

Like I'm losing you, Dad, and nothing's ever going to be the same again.

Don't say that, Dere. That's not true.

Look. I'll make it up to you when I get back.

I promise.

-Where are you going? -Europe.

-Didn't I tell you? -No, you didn't.

Oh. I'm so sorry, lovely.

For how long?

Mmm, three weeks.

I promise. When I get back, I'm going to make this up to you. I promise.

-Okay? -Okay.

I miss her, Dad.

I miss her too, Dere.

Not a single day goes by that I don't think about her.

Otunba, it's time to go. You're going to miss your flight.

You know, it's really great to have all of you here at the same time.

-Yeah? -Oh, Daddy.

-Have a safe flight, Dad. -Oh, sure I will.

I will. Yeah? I will.

Safe journey, Dad.

Mmm. Yeah, thank you. Thank you so much.

Ah, our own Cinderella.

You didn't say goodbye to your father.

-I was just-- -Whatever it is, whatever the issue,

-say goodbye to your father. -Come on, girl. It's all good here.

-Bye, Daddy.

Okay, Otunba, let's go now.

No, it's okay. What's the rush? I still have enough time.

Okay, you thought I forgot, didn't you?

Huh? So where are your shopping lists?

Yeah!

I've e-mailed mine, Dad.

It's nothing much. Just a couple of things.

A Coco Crush gold ring and bracelet and a Louis Vuitton SC bag.

I've e-mailed all the details, Dad, everything.

How about you? Have you e-mailed yours yet?

Oh, no, Daddy, I'm about to e-mail mine, but I want those dope Louboutin shoes,

the 160mm Daffodile Strass, Dad.

They're really cool.

But, Ndira, they're like stilts.

But, Amira, that's what I want.

Whatever.

No, but if that's what she wants, that's really fine.

And, Daddy, I want some Cartier jewelry as well.

Maybe an expensive gold wristwatch.

Guess what? Just throw that into your list, okay?

Thanks, Daddy!

Hey, Dere, how about you?

I don't know.

A belated birthday present perhaps.

Perhaps something more expensive than flowers and chocolates, abi?

-The flowers are beautiful, Dad. -Yes.

-And the chocolate too. -I know. I know.

But what exactly do you want?

-Hmm. -Come on, Dere.

You don't want Dad to miss his flight, do you?

Jewelry, shoes, bags?

-A fountain pen. -A pen.

I can use it to fulfill my promise to Mum.

A fountain pen?

A pen?

Oh, okay.

So, darling, what do I get for you, my love?

How about gold-plated memories, abi?

What?

Otunba, you can buy me something nice on your way back.

-Why not. -Let's go.

-See you when I get back. -Oya.

Bye-bye, Daddy.

-Bye, Daddy. Safe flight. -Bye-bye, kids. See you later.

-So, at FKF Investments--

-Excuse me, Ms. Adami. -Wait outside.

Shut my door!

We're always open to new opportunities for business because...

Hello?

Yes.

I'll be right there.

Okay.

Um, okay, so that would be a white coffee and two sugars, right?

-And-- -Just water will be fine, thank you.

That's simple enough, Dere. You can't mess that up, can you?

Sparkling or still, sir?

Sparkling, please.

Okay. With ice?

-Yes-- -Of course with ice. Don't be stupid.

And hurry up before our guests die of thirst.

Out!

Getting quality staff is tough.

You have to practically beat them in shape.

Uh, I have no problem with you sowing--

Uh, sowing-- What do you call it now?

Your proverbial wild oats, yes.

I have no--

no problem with that at all.

However...

the only thing I have a problem with is that after our last conversation...

Eh? After all our efforts, your mother and I,

in investigating potential candidates,

you-you have blatantly refused to choose a bride.

Dad, trust me.

I have reviewed every single girl you sent to me.

I just haven't found anyone that looks like Mum.

My friend, that is not acceptable.

You hear me?

Each one of those girls, we chose them carefully.

They were all specially vetted by your mother here.

So don't give me that stupid excuse.

Look, Dad, I understand how you and Mum feel.

Okay? I just can't--

I am not one of your clients that you can sweet-talk into doing what you want.

-Chief. Mofe. -Okay?

My darling.

My son.

You are our only child. Yeah?

Mofe, remember now

all the wahala we went through before you even survived, Mofe.

Mofe, three sons and a daughter.

Just like that, Mofe.

Mum, please.

-Don't upset yourself. -Mrs. Ologe, just last month,

her last daughter gave her twins.

Mofe, twins!

And see, Kenneth, your father's friend's son,

just last Tuesday, he gave them another baby boy.

Making three.

-I understand. -Clearly you do not.

Clearly you do not.

And enough is enough.

You have forced my hand.

You have forced my hand, and now I am issuing an ultimatum.

-Dad! -Yes!

And I mean it.

We must celebrate your wedding within six months.

Otherwise, I promise you I will float this company

and-and appoint a total stranger as CEO.

-You can't do that. -Oh, yes, I can! And I will.

-Chief. -You hear me? I will.

If-If my only son cannot even pretend to want to preserve my family name,

I might as well dash this company to total strangers.

Esohe, come, let's go. Let's go.

Mofe.

Mofe, my darling, I beg you.

-Mum! -Your father is serious this time.

Don't let him cut off his nose to spite his face.

You, too, bring somebody now.

Eh?

Your father does his thing outside.

He thinks I don't know.

But he gives me my respect. That's all that's important.

-It doesn't-- -Esohe!

Chief.

Mofe, do as I say. You hear me?

I will talk to your father. He's only concerned.

Take care of yourself, you hear? My son.

And come for lunch on Sunday. You hear me? Hmm?

Bye, darling. I beg you. I beg you.

-Esohe. -Chief.

Mofe, please.

Just there. Thank you.

-Hey. -You've got to be joking.

Confidential paperwork from your sisters, right?

Yeah.

I thought you were going to talk to your dad.

I will when he gets back.

You were supposed to do it on your birthday, Dere.

I know. I will. Don't stress out about it.

Sorry.

I'm sorry, Joke. It's me.

No, I have a big mouth.

No, you have a big heart.

And you always have my back.

I know I really should stand up to my sisters,

but they're tough and smart, and I could learn about life from them.

-You still don't get it. -Get what?

Don't worry. You'll only get angry again.

No, I won't.

Moving on.

You still don't think they like me, right?

Yes.

Then why do they keep inviting me out and asking me to come shopping and stuff?

-Mmm. How sisterly. -It is.

So when you go shopping, who pays the bills?

Who brings out the money-- the cash, the ego, the kudi? Who?

-What? -You see? I thought as much too.

As much as you've got me to watch your back,

your sisters will eat you up alive.

Come on, Dere. Let's get this over and done with.

And it's time to talk to your father when he gets back.

Aunty Faith.

Yes, dear.

-Oh, I was looking for you.

Ah, you found me now.

Oh, and you brought fresh flowers for your mother.

Oh, she loves those.

Aw, come on. Give me a big, big hug.

How are you, dear?

I'm okay, Aunty Faith. How about you?

Ah! Everything is pretty much the same at this stage in life.

At least for me anyway. Some other people say that,

when they get to be this age, it feels as if they're rushing to their graves.

I don't know what they're talking about.

How are your children?

When was the last time you saw any of them?

It's been a long time.

And I miss them, but they have their own lives to lead now.

Still, it must be hard.

Ah, yes. Humans were not designed to be alone.

We could be in a crowd and still feel alone.

Yes.

All these people in all these graves.

Imagine if they could talk to each other.

Rich and poor, black and white, and they all end up here.

Uh, how is the writing going?

-Oh, it's going. -Oh.

-It's a little hard, eh? -Terrible.

Well, I'm not a writer myself, but I think that it must be quite hard to be creative

-if you have a lot on your mind. -Mmm.

That's why you like to come here.

To talk to your mother and get it all off your chest.

Ah, I should go now.

Oh. So soon?

I thought you wanted to talk to your mother.

I will, but I like talking to you, and you and Mum have so much in common.

We've become quite good friends.

Um, anything yet on the boyfriend front?

Went to a few parties with my stepsisters,

but all the guys there seem to think--

-They all want one thing. -Mmm.

So nothing yet on the boyfriend front?

No.

Can I ask you a question?

Mmm, you've been wanting to ask since the last time we spoke.

Did you love him? Your husband, I mean.

Even when you know that he cheated on you.

I never stopped loving him.

What is love anyway?

I don't know.

I think it's what my mum and dad have. Had.

Ah. And what was that? What did it look like?

-They liked each other. -Uh-huh.

They laughed, they talked, they cared what each other thought.

-They respected each other. -Aha.

I envy what they had.

I want what they had.

It seems it's time you start making friends, Dere.

What you just described sounds a lot like friendship to me.

-But there has to be more.

In my limited experience, I find that friendship is the seed of love.

What your parents had is rooted in friendship

and a deep respect one for the other.

You sound like you've been talking to Mum.

I told you that we're good friends now.

My back is aching me.

I think that I have to stretch my legs a little bit.

See you soon, Dere.

Let me go and tend my husband.

He tends to get quite jealous if I stay away too long.

See you soon, Aunty Faith. Thanks for talking to me.

-Dere. -Yes, Aunty Faith?

Your mum is so very proud of you.

I miss you, Mum.

I thought you were spending the night.

But I'm of no use here.

How do you mean?

You obviously have a lot of things on your mind.

I'm sorry.

Are you still thinking about your conversation with your parents?

Well, um...

amongst other things.

The truth is...

I have no excuse.

Like, getting married is not going to get in the way of my freedom.

Really?

How lucky it is to be a man then.

Chichi.

Don't go.

Okay.

Fine.

But I won't be here for long though.

I have to be in church, um... later.

What?

No, nothing. I'm--

Mofe. What?

Like, I still don't know how you get to switch

between different worlds.

Religious, business, pleasure.

I separate them.

I compartmentalize.

Women do it all the time. It's what keeps us from going crazy.

Okay, um...

Are you serious about not getting married?

Oh, not again.

Mofe.

Can you just leave that topic?

-I can't. -Mofe.

You're overthinking things too much.

Spin a coin. Pick one.

Everyone is happy. Life moves on.

I don't know. What else do you want?

More.

Chichi, I want more.

You see this?

All of this.

It's not just enough.

But, Mofe, you're doing more already.

Inner city regeneration...

micro-business start-up loans for young people.

What more do you want?

I don't know.

I don't know.

But... you're still serious about...

not raising kids, not settling down.

Mofe, okay, um...

I remember what that did to my mum, so...

no, thank you.

So you'd rather be alone.

Come on.

But I'm not alone.

Okay, so, about your parents.

I have a plan.

You do?

-Don't I always?

Of course, you always do. Yes.

Okay, so, I'll have some options on your table tomorrow morning.

-Options? -Yeah.

This is a new job, boss,

and we have just six months.

So we better get to work.

It's called "Toxic Waste," in case you are wondering.

And it's a story about the fallout of one of your many conquests.

Dere.

Why are you so fresh?

Just behave yourself, okay?

So your parents are really serious this time, huh?

Oh, they are serious.

What are you going to do?

Well, Chichi's working on a plan.

So you have to do the plunge?

Boy, you have to do the deed.

You, my friend, would walk the 100 meters to the altar.

Look, I just have to find someone that I can at least pretend

to have something in common with.

That's the least of your problems.

There are lots of intelligent women out there.

I mean, beautiful ones too.

Your dilemma, my friend, will be which one to choose.

We just have to draw straws.

My man, I don't think you're giving this

the requisite amount of seriousness it deserves.

Look at you. I don't blame you. It's not your fault.

Don't worry. You'll swiftly follow. I promise you.

Impossible! Listen, I am marriage-proof.

-Oh. -Yes.

And so was I. Remember that.

Well, fine. But listen, this is not a big deal.

Come on. You can find a trophy wife on your arm,

and then, of course, have your mistress or mistresses on the other side.

And life goes on.

You know,

I always thought marriage was something special.

You know, and if by chance or by some miracle

I eventually get married, I thought it was going to be with someone special.

Mofe, please, abeg, just tell me you're joking right now.

No, I am serious.

Come on. Which one is someone special now, Mofe?

Don't be naive.

Tell me any woman who would marry you in Nigeria

without having to check your account balance.

Any woman? Look, my mother wasn't like that.

What? Are you trying to tell me my mum was a gold digger?

I didn't say anything of the sort.

Oh, okay. Because I tell you, my friend, my mum, she came from old money.

That was back then.

Things have changed.

Mofe, things have changed.

This whole love thing was just--

was just something imported by these oyinbo men now.

Come on!

Bro, love is a transaction.

A mere transaction.

And all the preliminaries are just mere negotiations.

So that's what it has come to now.

Everything in life now is about a transaction, hmm?

Life has come to that bottom line.

We eat, we drink, we make more money and then we die.

Hey, come on. Where are you going?

Mofe, all this just sentimental drivel's-- are making me sick.

-Come on. -Hey, relax. Come on.

Stay.

Life would be boring without a little philosophy.

Trouble is, you seem to be taking it too seriously.

Okay. This...

It's just this business with my parents.

It's making me think--

Mofe, you're overthinking this thing, and that's the problem.

That's the problem. Pick a babe.

Outline your expectations and-and your mutual benefits.

Sign the damn dotted lines.

Come on.

This love thing is just an illusion created by these so-called white men.

Please, stop swimming in that pool-o.

Dere.

Aren't you going to get dressed?

I told you I wasn't going with you. I have other plans.

But I've set something up for you already.

Another one of your matchmaking schemes? I don't like them, Amira.

Dere, why are you not dressed?

That's exactly what I said.

I told you I have other plans. I'm not going with you.

And that's exactly what she said.

Oh, Amira, shut up.

And what exactly is your problem?

And you exactly are my problem.

I don't want you to go embarrassing me out there.

Ladies!

Do you know how beautiful you look today?

-You look good, girl.

You look tasty.

Selfie!

One more, one more.

Oh, come on, Dere.

Let's go, Dere.

With the way you're going, girl,

I'm not sure you'll find anybody to marry you.

Oh, no. I don't think Dere wants to get married, or do you?

I would like to get married. I just want to marry the right guy.

Amira, we have a believer.

A believer in what exactly?

Oh, come on, Amira. Not "what," "who."

Our Dere still believes in Mr. Right.

-Seriously?

But, Dere, you've been back a while now. How come you're still thinking like that?

Search me-o. Dere, listen. This is how it works.

We find the mister, we make him right, he becomes...

Mr. Right!

Amira, let's go.

Um, Dere.

Have you ever thought of going back to the UK?

I mean, it might be a lot easier for you there than here.

-Mm-mmm. -Just saying.

Dere's not one of those who run away. She's a fighter, abi.

You're one of those who keep fighting even after your teeth get knocked out.

You go, fighter girl!

-Amira, let's go. -Bye, girl.

-Have fun. -Oh, please. We definitely will have fun.

I'm really not in the mood for unwanted attention tonight.

Ah, they must try.

My stepsisters are trying to matchmake me, and their choices are atrocious.

Filthy rich, old men with big potbellies.

The kind that just make you feel as if they're trying to do you a favor.

Mmm. My mum has been trying to marry me off, like, forever.

-Really? -Yeah.

-What happened? -I said no.

Because I will have to live with the mistake.

But marriage isn't a mistake. You just have to find the right person.

That's the problem. Where do you go about finding the right person?

Sometimes I feel like all the good guys are married.

-I don't know.

-What? -Nothing.

Look, Dere. I don't want you to bite my head off.

Are you planning on matchmaking me?

-No. -Then what is it?

Well, it's just something I've noticed.

Okay, I've noticed you've been paying certain attention

to a particular somebody.

I'm not interested in anyone in the office.

I wasn't talking about the office.

-Then what? -See why I didn't want to say anything?

Look, Dere, I know the mags, and you do a good job hiding it.

But it's clear. It's obvious.

You have feelings for Mofe Clark.

Feelings? You're not serious.

I don't have feelings for him.

Don't try to play with my intelligence. You know I'm a very smart girl.

Okay, I'm intrigued by him.

Mmm.

Okay, but there's nothing there.

It's not a thing.

I haven't even met the guy, and we don't mix in the same circles,

so there's little chance that I'll ever meet him.

And besides, we have absolutely nothing in common.

Look, it's stupid, and I don't want to talk about it.

Oh, my God, Dere.

You're in love.

You have feelings for him.

Ew.

-Yeah, yeah.

-From here. -Exactly, and that will just--

-Excuse me. Who are you? What do you want? -Hey. Usman, relax.

Hey!

PK, this is Usman, my best friend.

Usman, PK.

I don't understand.

PK is the head of all of our regeneration programs in the region,

and on the seafront, particularly in all of the shanty communities.

Regeneration programs?

Education...

mentorship...

development of entrepreneurial skills, new technology. You can name them.

Usman, we are facilitating dreams.

You know, your friend here thinks that I'm your supplier.

-Uh...

Maybe recreationally, Mofe.

I-- We've done almost everything except drugs, so I thought--

Do I look like a user to you?

Okay, hold on.

So, tell me. What have you learned?

Mofe, what do you want from me?

I want you, Usman, not to judge a book by its cover.

Come on.

Fine. Sorry.

It's cool, man.

I know where you're coming from.

You know, to tell you the truth, I've lived a pretty tough life.

All these marks on my body from knife cuts, stab wounds, even mosquito bites--

You know, PK has a degree in business administration.

He just never got a job.

So he started an initiative of rehabilitating abandoned children

from lagoon fronts and under bridges.

You know, expanding their view on who they can be and what they can achieve.

We found out that he was looking for money to buy books.

Usman. Books!

When Chichi told me, I had to run there to see for myself.

You know, I couldn't believe it when you came down.

This guy, he came down to the slums. I mean, they both did.

Sat where we sat, ate where we ate.

But he didn't drink the water though.

Ahh!

But they, you know-- they supported us.

They came, they saw, they liked what we were doing.

You know, they didn't see us like victims or people who wanted handouts.

You know, like beggars.

They-- They saw potential.

And we've given micro-business loans for some of their small projects.

And trust me, Usman, each and every one of them

has exponentially brought returns beyond our imagination.

Anyways, I came to bring you up to speed on what's going on.

-I brought pictures too. -Perfect.

All right, guys, hold up.

This company has social-responsibility initiative,

and we have not capitalized on it.

No, Usman, this is not a BGI initiative.

-No? -Mm-mmm.

This is a Mofe Clark initiative.

Mofe, this is your money?

Oh, yes. And we want more.

-We want to do more. -Yes, sir.

Usman, you know, apart from the satisfaction

you would derive from social-responsibility initiative--

Social responsibility, that I'm interested in, but--

-You can even make some more money. -Yeah.

How?

Well, some of these kids are mathematics and computer science geniuses. Right, PK?

Yes, as a matter of fact, they've been winning awards.

Some of them are actually eligible for scholarships in mathematics, science.

Tell me, Usman, name one indispensable sector undergirding business...

international trade, finance, the media, government.

-Actually, you name it. -Technology.

That's right. And now we have access to young and willing geniuses

that are eager to service our sector.

Usman.

We need 30 million naira.

And in seven days, so we can take full advantage

of the potential that just opened up.

Thirty million naira! Mofe, in seven days?

-Yeah. -Trust me, Usman.

The rewards are promising.

-Daddy! -Darlings.

-How are you? -Hi. Good.

-How was your trip? -Very well, thank you.

I got as much as I could get.

Where's your mum? There she is.

Hello, darling. Hi.

-They're going to love everything. -Yeah?

Take a break, Dere.

I can't. I have to get all these reports upstairs.

I'll wait. I'm taking you out to lunch.

-Why? -Hey.

Is it a crime for someone to take a friend out to lunch?

Only when they have an ulterior motive.

All right, you got me. Um, there's someone I would like you to meet.

Ugh. Joke, I'm not in the mood for any of this matchmaking.

First of all, it's unnatural not to have a boyfriend.

-No, it's not. -It is.

And secondly, I met someone, and I want you to check him out for me.

Oh.

-I thought-- -I know what you thought.

-So, will you come? -Yeah, just come get me when you're ready.

Okay.

There are no mistakes?

None whatsoever, sir.

And they were quite sure?

They double- and triple-checked, sir.

So what do you advise?

We should notify the police and the EFCC at once, Otunba.

-Sir-- -Now, now.

I will sleep on it, and I will arrive at my decisions in the morning.

Meanwhile, limit Bala's access to all the company accounts immediately.

Yes, sir. I'm very sorry, sir.

And Bala started out with this company many, many, many years ago.

I think he resented my taking this job.

Bala was not qualified, Gabriel. That's no excuse.

Exactly. And to do this, knowing what the company is going through.

I'm sorry, sir.

Thank you very much, Gabriel. Thank you.

I'll see you in the morning, okay?

-All right, sir. -No, Rebecca...

I'd like to present some decisions to the board in the morning.

Okay.

I'll need you to help me out with the drafting and all that, I think.

-Okay, sir. -Okay.

Hello, Ms. Kosoko.

Ah, hi, Mrs. Atta. You're the only one that calls me that here, you know.

-Sorry, habits. -It's okay. Is he in?

-Oh, yes, he is. You can see him. -Thank you.

-See you later. -Bye, Mrs. Atta.

-Hey, Dere. -Hi, Dad.

Come on in, Dere.

You're like a ray of sunlight in my otherwise miserable day.

-Aw. Thank you, Daddy. -Come on.

-How are you doing? What's going on? -Well, um,

nothing I can tell you about just yet,

but I will fill you in.

-Okay. It sounds serious. -It is.

But we're working on it, okay?

-So, how are you? -I'm good.

Dere, listen...

Dere.

I'm worried about you.

Why?

Well, for one, you don't have a social life.

Dad, I have a social life.

Come on, you know what I'm talking about.

Yeah, I know.

Do you have, um...

Dad, I don't have a boyfriend, if that's what you mean.

Why not? You're beautiful, you're intelligent, you're a young girl.

Dad, I'm fine. Honestly.

I don't need a boyfriend.

When I do, you'll be the first to know, okay?

Fine. Have you eaten?

Joke invited me to lunch to vet one of her latest catches.

-Who's Joke again? -Joke works with me in the basement.

-Oh, that Joke. -Mm-hmm.

Well, at least she has catches.

Really, Daddy?

Yeah, okay, so what's up?

-I wanted to talk to you about something. -What's on your mind?

Do you remember when I told you that I wanted to work with the youth?

Okay, well, I found a group that I want to work with.

Their emphasis is on regeneration, youth development and education.

And they might be the right fit.

And what's the name of this group?

It's not so much an organization per se.

What do you mean?

Okay. Don't freak out or anything.

How do you expect for me not to freak out when you tell me not to freak out?

They work in a shantytown by the seafront,

but they teach young people marketable skills.

And they do such a fantastic job, Daddy.

-Shantytown, seafront-- -It's safe, Dad.

And I'll be careful, I promise.

-Are you sure? -Absolutely.

And you never know, Daddy, I might meet someone interesting

that I could bring home for your approval.

Dere, you are cheeky. You know that, don't you?

I have no clue what you mean.

All right, guess what. We'll go with this as long as it makes you happy.

But you need to be careful.

I'm always careful, Daddy.

I'm really impressed that you decided to stick it out

when things got tough.

Thank you, Daddy.

Hang on.

Yeah. Hello. Just hold on a minute. Yeah.

What were you saying?

Don't worry about it. I'll see you later, Daddy.

Come here.

-I love you. -Bye, Daddy.

Hey, listen. Why don't we do this next week?

Going through the papers is giving me a lot of headaches.

Honestly, I really don't understand what's going on.

Yes.

I'm still here.

Yeah, I'm fine.

Ahh. Yeah, yeah.

No, no, no. Nothing. Really.

Okay. Okay.

Yeah.

Mummy, good afternoon.

Good afternoon, Ndira.

Good afternoon, Mum.

-Amira, your call sounded very urgent. -It's urgent, Mum.

Ehh, well. I've ordered drinks and food.

Mummy, this is urgent.

Uh... Well--

Thank you. Mm-hmm.

Look, because it's urgent does not mean everybody should know our business.

-I'm sorry, Mummy. -Okay, so what's the problem?

Amira.

Yesterday I had a chat with Mr. Bala about our business.

Everything seemed fine, so we moved to the next phase.

You know, the liquidation of the assets,

the ones we had highlighted as irredeemably depreciated.

Assessed to the tune of almost 950 million naira, Mum.

I'm hearing all these things you guys are talking about.

I don't understand. What is the wahala?

Amira, long and short.

I'm trying. I'm trying.

The chief accountant initiated an internal audit a few weeks ago.

-Is that unusual? -No, it's part of company protocol.

But this time, Mummy, it was done discreetly.

Discreetly?

On the basis of that audit, Mr. Okoli asked Otunba to authorize

external auditors to come in and check our books thoroughly.

-External auditors? -Yes, Mummy.

Did Mr. Bala complete the liquidation of the assets?

Yes.

Okay. Has he been communicating with you?

-No. -Nothing recorded?

No, Mum. You were very specific about that.

What's the problem?

Ah, Mummy, you cannot say that.

They brought in external auditors-- forensic financial investigators. Mummy.

Shh.

They will find evidence of fraud, Mum.

Tell me. Are you the secretary or the accountant?

No, Mum, but you know how these things are.

No. Let me tell you something. Hmm?

When hunters go into the bush to hunt,

people inside the bush,

they will take sticks and start hitting it.

And then the animals will come towards the hunters.

Yeah, but, Mummy, we're not hunting--

The animals, hearing that sound of the stick

will think it's from the enemies,

so they will run towards the hunters.

What have they done? Come into the hands of the hunter.

Hmm? And they're killed.

How does that help us, Mum?

Amira, I think I see where Mummy's going with this.

Who are the hunters and who is the hunted?

Uh-uh. That's not the crucial question at this point.

What is?

How are we going to respond to the beating of the bushes?

Ndira!

-Mummy, I'm your daughter-o. -Me, I don't understand-o. I'm scared.

Shut up.

I'm full. Tawa!

Tawa!

Ah. Tawa! Where is this useless girl now, eh?

Tawa!

Madame, Tawa went to the shop to get some matches.

Matches?

What happened to the ones I bought two weeks ago?

We used them up.

Eh?

You finished the matches I bought last week?

What were you doing with them, cleaning your teeth?

I borrowed some matches. It was an emergency.

Sorry, Mr. Fabrice. I should have told you.

No problem, Dere.

Eh. Okay, well, come and clear this place.

And please, remember to clean the kitchen.

And go and clean all the bathrooms and toilets.

-Yes, ma'am. -This place is very dirty.

Dere, you can't indulge all these staff people like this.

Today it's your matches. Tomorrow it will be all the food in your freezer.

Not Mr. Fabrice, ma.

It's even the loyal ones that stab you in the back.

Anyway, how was work?

-Fine, ma. -Ah. Ee-yah.

That's all you say. "Fine," eh?

Even if your arm falls off, you still say "fine."

Huh?

It was fine, ma. Thank you. Honest.

You know, anytime you want to talk, I'm here for you.

-Mummy! -Daddy!

How are you?

-How are you?

-Have you heard? -No.

-It's on Instagram and Twitter.

What?

Dere, this should interest you. See, you have a massive crush on the guy.

-Uh-huh. -Dere has a crush?

No, I don't.

-You do. Don't lie.

-Now, can I finish telling my news? -Tell!

You better finish telling the news before you burst.

Okay, wait.

Mofe Clark is having a very, very exclusive party

at the end of next month.

-Mm-hmm. -Invitation only. And guess what.

Guess what.

It promises to be the most-talked-about event of the year!

We have to go. We just have to go.

But how do we get the invites?

You're the head of public relations and communications, right?

-Mm-hmm. -So?

So, get their people to talk to your people,

initiate exploratory talks about potential business

and wait till they bring the topic up.

-Ahh. -Mmm.

That's right, Dere. I see where you're going with this.

Well, after all, we're a big corporation, and what do we need?

Just a couple of invitations.

Wow, Dere, good thought.

Dere, aren't you going?

Ah, of course she's going. Dere has a crush-o.

Even the boy's picture, eh?

-His pictures are in her diary-- -I--

I have a very important meeting tomorrow morning.

-Uh, I need to go and prepare for it. -Oh, Dere.

Come on, we're just playing. Sit down.

No, no, it's fine. It's fine.

Yes, Dere, don't go.

I need to know all there is about Mofe Clark.

-Maybe another time.

-Good night, Dad. -Good night, Dere.

-Good night, ma. -Good night.

-So sensitive!

You guys should stop teasing Dere. Uh-uh.

You know how sensitive she is about that.

Oh, my goodness.

-This is news to me.

Dere.

What are you doing?

I'm trying to finish my book of short stories, Ndira.

Are you upset?

Why would I be upset?

Oh, come on, Dere.

It's no secret you have a massive crush on Mofe Clark.

You have his pictures pasted all over your room.

You even wrote about him in your diary.

You read my diary?

Don't you read mine and Amira's?

No, it's private.

-Oh, come off it, Dere.

Listen, hopefully we get invited to the ball,

you get to meet the man of your dreams and you both live happily ever after.

Now my humiliation is complete.

Not only am I a lovestruck, infatuated airhead,

I also believe in fairy tales.

Come on, Dere. Now you're being childish.

Look, Ndira, you've had your fun.

I have 5,000 more words to go before I go to bed,

so, if you don't mind...

Dere, I don't mind, but think about it.

It might be fun.

Who knows?

Mofe Clark might pick you for one of his famous one-night stands.

At least you'd get a night to remember him by.

Yay! Lucky me.

You mock, but stranger things have happened.

All right. I know when I'm not wanted.

It's not that.

It's okay, Dere. It's all probably for good.

But you know what?

The rumor around town is that Mofe Clark is looking for a "trophy wife."

Who knows? Our very own Dere might just fit the bill.

All right. All right, I'm leaving.

Goodness! If looks could kill.

Good night, Ndira.

Oh, good night, sweet Dere. Sweet dreams.

-Dere, hi. -Hi, Joke.

Oh, can you do me a favor and set up a meeting

with the regeneration guy as soon as possible, please?

-Okay, I'll call him when we get inside. -Great, thanks.

Aren't you even curious to know why I'm so excited?

Mofe Clark is looking for a trophy wife.

Wow. News travels fast.

All we have to do is get a couple of invites.

-Not interested. -What?

Joke, I'm not interested.

All right, Dere. Talk to me.

There's nothing to talk about.

Something happened, didn't it?

Your sisters, they did something, didn't they?

I'm only going to say this once, Joke,

-and it's because you're my friend. -Okay.

I don't want anything to do with that guy.

I'm not interested in his party.

I just want to get on with my life.

I'm seriously thinking about taking the offer

of doing a master's scholarship in the UK.

I've had enough. I'm done.

Now can we get off that subject, please? Thank you.

You're my hero, Dere, and now you're going to quit

because you hit a pothole?

Hmm. I guess we all have our breaking point.