When i first stepped in, the confidence and composure which i had had all along seem to have deserted me. Maybe it was the face of the white woman among the judges who seemed to be accesssing the cost of my clothes, or it was the cold stare of our camp commandant i couldn't tell. All i knew was that i had suddenly felt empty. The way a young girl feels when her skirt unexpected falls in the middle of a busy road. Dressed in my hausa/fulani attire, i could see myself dancing like a hen trying to move with tied legs. I heard as the crowd were shouting 'boo! boo!' Damn i can't believe that i haven't practiced this dance before. It seem easy watching people do the dance on TV but it just occurred to me that i have been too busy learning how to catwalk, reading about past pageantry questions and answers, getting my clothes ready, getting a makeup artist, fixing my hair and nails and i had left this out... Learning how to dance the dance of the culture I'm representing. With my legs closed together, it seem more like i was hopping or jumping than dancing. I couldn't go further to the judge. I walked to where the other pageants had stood to introduce myself. 'Please introduce yourself?' the judge spoke calmly. I could feel my heart beating fast. #Blank. What is my name. 'I'm...I'm Lena Johnson, I'm representing platoon 7 and... 'little beams of sweat were running down my face. i totally forgot all i wanted to say. Temperature rising. That was how i ended my sentence. The other contestants came forward with pride and confidence and did their things. I'm sure some of them were happy i was tensed. Taking about beauty. I think i was one of the 3 most beautiful contestants. But i lacked confidence and experience. That was my weakness.
The winners were announced and i went back to my hostel with my compensation price. I wasn't among the winners
