The idea was to break onto the big screen.
From when she was little, she'd always imagined herself strutting across screens in Box Office hits -- her name known to people she would never meet. She'd even decided on a more fitting name than the one her parents christened her.
When she landed in Lagos and began to hang out with the Nollywood wannabes crowd, the first thing she did was discard the name. She became Trace, not Tracy, mind you. Trace Hawthorne.
Thirteen months, countless auditions, many a boffing by producers and innumerable promises later, the most she'd gotten were waka-pass roles. Everyone knew that no one reached stardom being cast as an extra. Everyone also knew that once you became known as an extra, the chances of landing a major role all but disappeared.
Those were the thoughts bedevilling her as she stepped into road. She did not see the Jag. She heard a screeching of tyres before she was knocked off her feet.
She came to in a hospital, a week later. Her right leg was wrapped in a cast and suspended from the ceiling.
On TV, a reporter was talking of the sex scandal rocking Nollywood. Many notable persons were caught on tape demanding sex for roles. SERAP was already suing them for sexual harassment.
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