Buzz by Olumide Iyanda
Email: olumide@qed.ng Twitter: @mightyng
“Hello. Is that Mummy Ugo?”
“I am Mrs O. Who am I speaking with please?”
“Thank God, Aunty. It is I, Mummy Grace. I am very happy to speak to you on the phone.”
“Nice to speak with you too. Please drop the Mummy Ugo and Aunty business. We call ourselves by first name in this business.”
“That is exactly why I have been trying to reach you. Please, I need you to advise me about this business. One of my friends from the bakery who came to visit last week suggested I speak to you. She said you once sold bread too before you became a superstar.”
“Yes, I once sold bread around Ayilara in Surulere, Lagos. Interestingly, it was not far from the Sabo area where I heard you hawked your way to instant fame.”
“Thank God for Agege bread o! I now understand the power in the prayer ‘give us this day our daily bread.’”
“What exactly do you want me to help you with?”
“I want to know how you went from the walkway to the runway. People say we have a lot in common.”
“True, we both once hawked bread, but I do not know how far I can stretch the similarities in our stories. The system that threw me up is very different from yours. Our journeys too are different. I was a teenager – wet behind the ears – when I was encouraged to enter a continent-wide modelling competition. I was unsure but my family advised me to go for the screening. Some people still tease me to date about the1.83 metres tall girl with a flowing long skirt that swept the floor as she walked. Fortunately for me, there was a structure in place before I was discovered. A team of mentors was led by a gentleman from South Africa called JM. I knew the agency that would take care of everything about my immediate future before I did my first photoshoot. It was all spelt out before the contest. There was no rush to get me on the runway or in a magazine. My handlers made sure there was no pressure when the first job came. I moved to New York after the contest and the rest is history as told by Vogue, ELLE, Sports Illustrated and other lifestyle magazines.”
“You were lucky o! Unlike you, there was no structure in place when I was discovered. I simply walked into someone else’s photoshoot and a fairy godmother turned my life around. I must be living up to my surname Orisaguna. By the way, it means Orisa (the Spirit) has made my path straight. There was no mentor, modelling agency, or apartment waiting for me when I walked into the street of Lagos on that fateful day with a tray of bread delicately balanced on my head. Everything happened so fast after my first photo went viral on social media. Almost overnight, I have been transformed from a bread-selling mother-of-two to the beautiful bride of corporate Nigeria. I now have more Instagram followers than some of the companies endorsing me even if I don’t understand all that is uploaded in my name. My story has been told all over the world and media houses have formed a queue to interview me. It has been three weeks of endless makeup, photo sessions, modelling and courtesy visits. Someone even came up with the idea of me giving a motivational speech in Yoruba at the Transcorp Hilton Hotel, Abuja. When I talk, everyone listens.”
“I am happy for you.”
“Some people are however not happy for me. They say I am being exploited and overexposed by everybody from my handlers to the companies throwing goodies at me. Corporate social responsibility has been dismissed as ambush marketing. What I consider goodwill is seen by some people as crass opportunism. How does anybody question organisations who owe me nothing but have decided to give me an education, luxury apartment and education fund for my children up to the university level? Is the world that resentful?”
“I have had my good and bad times as a supermodel, but I choose to focus on the positive. The modelling business is shark-infested water, my dear. The only way to survive is to keep swimming.”
“How can I ‘outswim’ the people who have been in this business long before me? How do I make sure that others don’t think that my own is too much? How do I protect my family from becoming the casualty of my rise to fame? Some columnists have even said my husband is just tagging along; they say he looks like he would rather be somewhere else.”
“It comes down to what your family wants and how far-reaching the support of your godmother is. You are not an average model. At 27, married and with two kids, you are coming into the business when some people are thinking of retiring. Those who started as teenagers built their personal lives around their careers. They dated and got married to people within or not too far from the industry. They did not need to upgrade their partners because they met them on the job. Given your unique narrative, your husband must not be made to feel as if he is the one now doing the photobombing. But I believe you two will be fine in an atmosphere of love, trust and understanding. Your family is worth more than all the Brazilian hair on the Nigerian runway. Remember too that those teaching you how to eat eba with fork and knife or who have built a shrine with your image in their offices still treat other Agege bread sellers with scorn. The reason you are different is that everyone is now tapping into your popularity and ‘anointing.’”
“Thanks for your time. Do you have any last advice for me?”
“Don’t lose your hairdressing skill.”
“I have been richly blessed by this telephone conversation. I hope to see you face-to-face soon or else I will photobomb your photoshoot.”
“Your photobombing days are over. You are the new face of Africa.”
