A Short Story: PAINITE

by Grace Omolola

The orange sunrays hit Layo’s face as she sat on her bed. It was another morning of trying to arrange her CV. Layo stared at the blue walls littered with pink, yellow and green sticky notes. Last morning marked a year of her searching tirelessly for a job. She dragged her heavy feet to the bathroom and stared at the mirror resting against the cream walls. The bathroom was dull, the perfect visualization of her life. For sixty seconds, she glanced into space. Sigh!  

  

“Breathe in, breathe out,” Layo muttered. She opened the tap and water gushed out, hitting the white basin. Sucking in her belly, Layo splashed water on her face. The under eye bags told the story of her nights- dull, drab and hopeless with depression as her company. 

  

Tears streamed down her cheeks. Why was she always overlooked? Wasn’t she pretty enough? When she was in University of Ibadan, her classmates used to treat her like a ghost. She sat in the same classroom with 100 students but barely 10 knew her name. They only invited her to join groups when they needed her brain.  

  

She was smart but even that did not attract friends. The last time she went for a party, Layo watched as her classmates danced in groups and her cousin, Trina, got three cards from aristocrats for a lunch date. Her crush had bumped into her , spilling the bluish-green cocktail on her pink shirtshirt.  

“Oh My! I am so sorry…” He had not remembered her name even though they had been seat partners for a year. Her voice croaked, “Layo” and she ran to the bus terminal. That was the last time she attended a party. 

  

Sitting on the floor, she sighed for the umpteenth time. It was so naïve of her to think she would get a do-over after Uni. Her stomach quivered as she remembered the last interview she went for. The interviewer’s mouth turned downwards into a grimace as he stared at her dress. She never got the call. 

  

Layo puffed into the air, her hands running through her hair. What could she do differently? Like a robot, she walked to her wardrobe. Trina had stayed with her for a week.  

  

“I got you some dresses you’d love,” Trina had crooned before leaving for her mansion in Abuja with her fiancé. Layo had not paid any attention to the dresses because she could never pull off Trina’s style. It was too revealing and not…Layo.  

  

Layo hissed, “What has being Layo helped her to accomplish for years?” Maybe she should start copying Trina – her mini skirts, fitted tank tops and sexy leggings. But she had tried that before nau. She felt so alienated from her body. 

  

Layo paced around her room. What was the worst that could happen? She was already living it- not feeling beautiful, overlooked and underestimated. Taking in the deepest breath she could, her hands gripped the handle of her wardrobe tightly, her knuckles turning red. She closed her eyes for a second to prepare herself for what Trina might have brought her way. 

  

“Wow!” she covered her mouth as the array of dresses smiled at her. Her hands caressed a note, “Be you, baby girl. Get that interview and turn heads. You do not have to be anyone else. We will help you find YOU. Love, Painite’s Styles”  

  

Layo’s body racked into sobs as she rummaged through her wardrobe. Trina had outdone herself. She rung her phone, “Trina…” 

  

“Hey sis, wear that gold trouser-suit for your interview tomorrow, and the maroon gown for our date night today,”  Trina said. 

  

Layo nodded and tried on the dresses, with Girl in the mirror by Bebe Rexha  playing at the background. For the first time in ten years, as she looked in the mirror, she smiled at the woman staring back at her.  

  

The next day, Layo wore the gold trouser-suit, packed her hair into a bun and sprayed some Escape perfume. Inhaling, she played “Brown skin girl” and smiled again, “I pray we get this job, Layo.”  

  

“Congratulations, you got the job, Miss Owonifaari. We loved that asides your intelligence, the way you carried yourself was phenomenal,” the first panelist, Mr Okoh said. 

  

“You give Queen energy and that is what we need in this company. Brilliant minds that can express themselves and represent the company well in the public space,” Mr Akpan clarified. 

  

The third panelist, Miss Ariyo smiled, “I would love you to introduce your stylist to me.” 

  

Layo’s cheeks hurt from smiling. She could not believe this. For the first time, she was actually seen. Last night as well, she had Painite’s Styles recommend some accessories that she wore with her maroon gown. In just an hour, she had known her kibbe body type, her skin tone and an entire makeover. She could never forget the stares as she walked into the restaurant.  

  

“You look so stunning,” she heard the word “stunning” twelve times last night. She would savour the moment and make it hers. That was her new reality and it must last forever. She would make sure of it.