Post by Ink & Soul ✒️✨ (@inkandsoul)

Part 3: The Hat and the Heat
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The dining table at Buba’s country home was laden with a magnificent feast, but the atmosphere inside the room was thick enough to choke on. The dinner had begun with icy, practiced politeness. Hauwa and Bukola tried desperately to steer the conversation toward gentler days—reminiscing about university pranks and early marriages—but the elephant in the room was too massive to ignore.
​Yemi sat rigidly in his chair, stubbornly wearing his custom-embroidered traditional cap. It was rendered in the unmistakable, vibrant purple of the IPP.
​To Buba, it wasn’t just a hat; it was a deliberate act of defiance. A middle finger raised against his hospitality. "Yemi," Buba said, his voice dropping an octave. "You are in my house. Out of respect, remove the party colors."
​Yemi tilted his chin up, his eyes narrowing. "A true leader never hides his colors, Buba. Not even for dinner."
​The spark caught the dry wood. The wives tried to intervene, shouting for them to stop, but the dam had burst. Years of unspoken resentment, professional jealousy, and political vitriol poured out in a torrent of rage. Both men slammed their hands on the table, standing up and shouting at the top of their lungs. Buba accused Yemi of selling out their youth for corporate backing; Yemi shouted back that Buba had lost his mind to blind ambition. The room became a chaotic crescendo of noise and fury.
To be continued

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