Last updated on October 13th, 2025 at 01:43 pm
“Angie!” Zabby storms into my room, and I sigh.
“What?” I ask irritably, dropping my phone. She plops on my bed, oblivious to my mood.
“There’s a photography training here in Abuja and it looks legit,” she holds her phone up to my face, almost into my eyes. I push the phone back and take it from her.
“Hmm, doesn’t look bad,” I say after reading the flier.
“It’s not bad. It seems like a training where you can learn everything, especially as a beginner.”
“Yeah, I know,” I answer enthusiastically.
“You don’t seem interested. Your baking classes haven’t been going as good as we anticipated. Dip your feet into many options, babe.”
“Well, not if the options all cost so much more than I can afford.” Bringing up the financial part makes Zabby quiet for the first time since she barged into my room. I choose her moment of reflection to add, “After the photography classes, what’s next? I save up for a camera? See, I don’t think photography is even my thing.” And there’s no lie to it. Maybe I thought I liked it then, but I don’t think it’s still my thing. The baking classes have been pretty decent, but by Zabby’s standards, since we haven’t started eating homemade pastries, then the classes haven’t been good. I actually find the process therapeutic; the dough kneading can feel like I’m smoothing out my stress points. What I dislike is having to wash the plates and tools after baking.
“Well, is baking your thing?” Zabby finally answers, having found a hole in my argument.
“Zabby, I’ll make doughnuts for you this weekend. Are we good?”
“Yaay!” She says, jumping and throwing out her arms. I smile. She’s so predictable.
“Oya, bye-bye.”
“No o, we’ll still go for this training.” She sits on the bed again.
“I don’t have the money o.”
“I will go for the training, but you’ll come with me. According to the flier, there’s a free session for everyone, then a 3-day intense session for those who paid. So, you can come with me on the first day.”
“Oh, sure sure,” I answer in relief.
“Let me pay. I need some photography skills for my work.”
“Considering that you’re a YouTuber, I agree with you,” I answer and she eyes me in response.
—
We are dressed for the training and awaiting our Uber driver. It’s a public holiday today and a Friday which means a long weekend. This explains my upbeat mood. The training is for the whole weekend, starting from today but I’ll only be going with Zabby today.
The Uber driver arrives and soon we’re at the venue. The place is so packed, it takes me a while to remember that it’s a training and not a beach party. As usual, Zabby has her phone out, capturing the scene which she will later edit for her YouTube videos.
“Zabby, there are so many people here,” I say, moving closer to her partly because there’s barely enough space to walk freely and also because this much crowd can make me feel out of place.
“I know.” She answers, unfazed by the crowd. I do a mental calculation of how many people are here versus the number of people who are here for the training. Considering that the training is 25,000 naira, I’m surprised at the turnout. I’m excited, Zabby insisted I wear something fancier.
As we approach the training hall, there is a banner showing the training coaches who, I guess, are experts in their fields. Zabby turns her camera to show the coaches and I gasp as I see Joe’s picture. Joe might be here! Joe, the same one from my school. Thankfully, Zabby is too engrossed in capturing good clips to see that my legs have now turned to heavy blocks and are rooted. She also doesn’t know him enough to recognise him on the banner. I can’t remember if I ever showed her his picture. Even in the banner, he looks good. My reaction to seeing his picture is almost embarrassing, even for me.
I follow Zabby as she approaches the entrance. This place is intimidating enough, I don’t want to be have to be alone. I hasten my steps and catch up with her. Inside the hall is another world. The decorators outdid themselves with a cozy, dimly-lit space. I maintain that I’ve outgrown my desire for photography, but maybe paying wouldn’t have been bad. I’m completely sold. Everything looks top-notch, further lending to the credibility of the event.
The E-flier has been blown up to the size of roll-up banners which have been placed strategically in the hall. I peruse the one closest to me and confirm that the flier bore no details of the training coaches. I wonder if I would have come had I been aware that he was going to be here. Zabby and I look around for a decent spot to sit, and my nervousness skyrockets. It’s a circular seating arrangement. I have no idea where the coaches will sit. As soon as Zabby and I find a decent spot, not too close to the centre and not too far, the coaches start coming in.
