A Hazel Haven

Chapter 39

The room week was fast approaching, and occupants were busy individually and collectively planing their talent shows. The days were quiet but the nights bustled with activities. Everyone had something they wanted seen, heard or felt. But not the occupants of room 25. For Uche, the loudness was irritating; Huma, on the other hand, found it strangely exciting from behind closed doors.

" I don't see the reason for it." Uche said one evening in a meeting involving her room and Henrietta's. They were seated downstairs in a corner, the hostel alive around them as people practised. The atmosphere easily reminded both Uche and Huma of their initiation night.

"It doesn't matter whether you see it or not. Every room must present something. It's a packaged deal; no exemptions." Henrietta stated. She was leaned back in her chair, legs crossed, looking as dark as night. Between her fingers , a cigarette smouldered."So what else can you both do besides dodging people?"

"Absolutely nothing." Uche shrugged. "No talent."

"There's no such thing." Herrietta said. Her eyes glinted with mischief."Again, we could settle for you on a pole. All you have to do is twerk, and your room wins. We split the money since the idea was all mine."

"Not a chance," Uche said, narrow eyed.

Henrietta blew out smoke. "Whenever you change your mind."

"I've come up with a play we can do." The girl beside Herrietta spoke. "We just need more actors. Since you don't have anything going on yet, you could join us."

"I can't act," Uche said, shifting in her seat.

Henrietta grinned, seeing her discomfort."I'm sure you can manage."

"It's agreed." The girl announced then looked at Huma and whispered something to Henrietta's hearing. " Is there anything you can help us with?." She asked Huma.

All eyes were on her. Mind blank, she stared back. What could she possibly do?

"She's good with make up," Uche offered, Huma blanching beside her. She won't be tolerating the week with them alone.

"Perfect," the girl chirupped, pushing up her glasses. "You'll be our make up artist."

The play was partly musical. Not only would there be acting, Uche mostly was required to sing. She baulked when she saw the script. She had been casted as the main lead- a tyrannical queen who got murdered in the end by her own people during a revolt. Practice days were Saturdays and Sundays. Uche slammed the spiral bound paper on the bed, devising means and excuses to avoid the disaster ahead.

From across the room, Huma writhed in her own misery.  She did casual and professional makeup. But nothing movie worthy. And it was all Uche's fault. She looked at her roommate.

Uche caught her glaring and narrowed her eyes. "Do you have something to say to me?" She sneered.

Cowed, Huma shook her head vehemently, her braids flailing.

"I didn't think so," Uche fell back on her bed, covered her face with her hands and groaned. Huma,  huddled on the floor, bowed her head. There was no way either of them could avoid the bloody room week.

Every practice day, Henrietta hounded them. A contrived stage was formed in the middle of the buildings where Scenes were repeated until perfection.

"What the fuck was that?" Henrietta scowled, getting up from her director's chair below the stage, cutting off Uche's performance  for the hundredth time. " How many times do I have to tell you? You're angry. One of your subjects just disrespected you in public. You're the queen. No one dares you, so you stand with that authority. We've been stuck in scene two for the past one week!"