with more Lagos flair and cultural patterns and events .
The night air over Marina Point pulsed with generators and Juwon's distant drums, like a heartbeat in the shadows.
Kemi, in a swish of Ankara-print maxi dress with crochet lace trim, stepped off the creaky pier, the _gẹ̀gẹ̀_ pendant cool against her skin.
The lagoon lipped at the seawalls, a patient predator.
A figure detached from the darkness-slime-green Adire trousers, a crisp white shirt with embroidered _adinkra_ symbols.
He handed her a small envelope, voice low.
"You're late.
Elara's people are watching." Kemi opened it.
A location: _Old Oja Road, midnight. Come alone._ No signature.
"Who are you?" she asked, but he vanished into alleyways.
Naomi appeared beside her, eyes scanning. "Tariq tracked the message.
It's a risk, but..." Kemi nodded.
"We go. You stay back, cover me."
They took a ridedrop, the driver's curious gaze flicking to the rearview.
Old Oja Road was a strip of shuttered warehouses, a lone streetlamp casting graffiti-sharp shadows.
Kemi stepped out, Naomi melting into darkness.
A flutter of fabric-a woman in cobalt _iṣọ́_ wrapper, her hair a map of intricate braids.
"Kemi Adebayo.
The _Iwọ̀n_ stirs.
You're playing with fire."
Kemi faced her.
"I want Lagos to choose."
The woman smiled, wrinkles deepening.
"Choices have chains.
Elara's Consortium isn't just investors-they're gatekeepers.
But you... you have threads."
She led Kemi to a hidden courtyard, walls painted with murals of _Eko_ drums, _Ọ̀yọ̀_ warriors, women in swirling _Aṣó Oke_. A hooded figure stood by a loom. "Remove the hood," Kemi said.
The figure hesitated, then pulled it back.
_Dr. Amadi, EkoBot's co-creator, eyes guarded._ "You've been hiding," Kemi said. "Protecting," he corrected.
"The _Iwọ̀n_'s power-it's not just energy. It's memory.
Lagos' heartbeat.
The Consortium wants to sync it, control the pulse." Kemi's mind spun.
"How?" Dr. Amadi gestured to the loom. "_Ọ̀nà_-weave. Ancient patterns, coded into the _Iwọ̀n_'s frequencies.
They want to overwrite the city's rhythm, make it sing for them."
The woman wrapped Kemi's wrist with raw silk. "You have the _gẹ̀gẹ̀_. It's a key.
But to unlock, you need the people's threads."
Kemi felt the weight. "How?" "Tomorrow, the Consortium unveils their plan at Lagos Island Plaza.
Wear this." She handed Kemi a folded _Adire_ cloth, electric blue with white _Ulli_ patterns.
"Weave your own thread.
Make the city hear you.
" Naomi reappeared, sharp-eyed. "We need to move. Now."
As they slipped back into the night, Kemi's phone buzzed-a text: _The patterns are already weaving.
Be ready._ Back in Makoko, Juwon waited, drumming a staccato beat.
"I got the word out. People are ready."
Kemi spread the _Adire_ cloth, designs rippling like water.
"We make our own stage.
Get the _Aṣó Oke_ banners ready.
No more shadows."
"Lagos fashion's about to get rebellious.
Think _Ankara_ corsets, _Aṣó Oke_ capes... the streets will be a runway".¹ ² The night pulsed, the _Iwọ̀n_ humming in sync, as if the lagoon itself was tuning in.