We're all broken, all beautifully Imperfect.
They say these would be the best days of our lives but does that mean it could be the worst too?
For a typical Nigerian teenager, secondary school days, especially the senior years are supposed to be the...
I was smiling so much, too much that I was starting to become afraid that my lips were going to tear.
But that fear still did not deter me from smiling.
Oh My God.
I just couldn't believe this night.
We had walked down the red carpet entrance, feeling like royalty with the thousands of cameras that were directed at us all.
God. Too many flashes.
Loud laughter, excited talks, girls hands wrapped around their dates, couples mingling together, students talking at the top of their voices, lot of pictures and flashes, gowns of all shapes and sizes and styles on girls looking all chic and hot, boys in various tuxedos and suits and even Agbada on Alex.
It was Prom.
This is what Prom is supposed to look like.
My mouth actually dropped open when we stepped into the hall.
Oh wow.
I actually whirled around because I couldn't believe it.
The hall, the decorations. Whoever decorated it had done one hell of an amazing job. The theme was in a sort of blue and purple color with chairs arranged in twos, fours and six. The center was left bare to serve as a dance floor with some of sort of starry light visuals on the floor.
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