Jul 14, 2026 · 19 min · 9 segments
This episode is dedicated to Busayo Eniola-Giwa **Producer**: Moroxi Alli To listen to exclusive story-times and spicy audios, join my Patreon community for as low as $2 a month…
I read the message once, then again, then for a third time.
Not because I didn't understand the contents of the message, but because I wanted to make sure I was reading it correctly before I decided how to feel about it.
"The board wants to meet tonight.
We're concerned about some of the recent business decisions, and we're losing confidence in your leadership.
11:30 PM at 18 Lugard Avenue.
No lawyers.
Wear the right outfit, preferably a dress.
Don't be fucking late.
FBN." I set my phone down on the bathroom counter.
FBN, Femi Bello Nelson, chairman of the board that I had built.
The man who had shaken my hand two years ago in this same city and told me I was exactly what this company needed.
The man who had since watched me triple our revenue, expand into new markets, and bring in partnerships that he couldn't have imagined when he gave me that handshake.
"Wear the right outfit, preferably a dress." [scoffs] I picked my phone back up, looked at the time, 10:04 PM.
I had exactly 86 minutes.
I didn't text back.
I didn't call.
I set the phone down, finished my skincare routine, every single step in order.
I didn't rush myself, and then I walked to my wardrobe.
Thankfully, my EA had picked up my dry cleaning earlier that day.
Good fucking timing.
So I had some options.
Granted, I didn't think I would have to find something to wear tonight, but what choice did I have? If FBN tells you to pull up to a meeting, you pull up.
I read the message once, then again, then for a third time.
Not because I didn't understand the contents of the message, but because I wanted to make sure I was reading it correctly before I decided how to feel about it.
"The board wants to meet tonight.
We're concerned about some of the recent business decisions, and we're losing confidence in your leadership.
11:30 PM at 18 Lugard Avenue.
No lawyers.
Wear the right outfit, preferably a dress.
Don't be fucking late.
FBN." I set my phone down on the bathroom counter.
FBN, Femi Bello Nelson, chairman of the board that I had built.
The man who had shaken my hand two years ago in this same city and told me I was exactly what this company needed.
The man who had since watched me triple our revenue, expand into new markets, and bring in partnerships that he couldn't have imagined when he gave me that handshake.
"Wear the right outfit, preferably a dress." [scoffs] I picked my phone back up, looked at the time, 10:04 PM.
I had exactly 86 minutes.
I didn't text back.
I didn't call.
I set the phone down, finished my skincare routine, every single step in order.
I didn't rush myself, and then I walked to my wardrobe.
Thankfully, my EA had picked up my dry cleaning earlier that day.
Good fucking timing.
So I had some options.
Granted, I didn't think I would have to find something to wear tonight, but what choice did I have? If FBN tells you to pull up to a meeting, you pull up.
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