From A Producer To A Global Superstar-Chapter 417: Another meeting

It was as if the whole internet just turned it attention towards Nigeria and the specific problem that Dayo was taking on and the rest was history.

It became so rampant that even ordinary citizen pickup their phone and started making videos concerning the issues.

****

Meanwhile the peole who thought they had suppressed the matter were in for a shock.

The call came in before anyone in the room had the chance to pretend things were under control.

It didn’t go through the usual channels first. It came straight from the office that didn’t call unless something had already crossed a line.

The assistant stepped in without knocking, her posture tighter than usual, her voice controlled but carrying urgency that didn’t need to be explained.

"Madam is on the line."

The two men in the room looked up immediately. No questions. No delay.

"Put it through."

The speaker came alive a second later.

There was no greeting.

"What exactly is happening?"

The voice was calm, but not relaxed. The kind of calm that came with authority that didn’t need to raise itself to be felt.

One of them leaned forward slightly, hands resting on the desk.

"The situation escalated overnight," he said. "The video spread beyond initial projections."

"I can see that," she replied. "I am asking why it looks like this. Why is it no longer contained?"

There was a brief pause, not from confusion, but from the need to answer carefully without sounding like they had already lost control.

"We moved early," the second man said. "We limited amplification locally. Influencers were contacted. Posts were taken down. Visibility was reduced across platforms."

The line stayed quiet for a second.

"And yet it is still everywhere."

This time neither of them rushed to speak.

"We controlled what we could," the first man said. "Local spread has slowed."

"But?"

The question didn’t need to be completed.

"But it didn’t hold," he admitted. "The content moved outside our reach. Foreign accounts picked it up. It’s no longer contained within local channels."

Silence again, but this time heavier.

"So you’re telling me you shut down the voices you can reach," she said slowly, "and it still grew."

"Yes."

"And now it is being pushed from outside."

"Yes."

The line went quiet long enough for both of them to understand that whatever came next was not going to be a discussion.

When she spoke again, her tone had shifted.

"Then listen carefully."

Both men straightened slightly without realizing it.

"This is no longer a situation you manage quietly," she said. "This has been seen."

No one needed clarification on what that meant.

"The president is aware," she continued. "And he has reviewed the situation."

Neither of them interrupted.

"He asked one question."

A small pause.

"Can it still be contained?"

Neither of them spoke immediately.

They both knew the answer.

"No," the first man said.

The word settled fully in the room before the line came alive again.

"Then you move to the next phase."

They waited.

"This project," she said, each word measured, "will be executed clean."

Both men frowned slightly, not out of confusion, but because they understood exactly what she meant and what it removed.

She didn’t leave it open to interpretation.

"No siphoning," she said. "No inflated budgets. No internal cuts. No delays for positioning. No manipulation at any stage."

The room went completely still.

"This is not optional," she added.

Neither of them spoke.

"This is a high-visibility situation," she continued. "There are too many eyes on it already. Opposition will look for weaknesses. Media will look for inconsistencies. The public is already engaged."

She let that sit for a second.

"If anything goes wrong inside this project, it will not stay internal. It will come back out. And when it does, it will not be controlled after all you all know who you’re dealing with is no small player from your interaction right?"

The first man exhaled slowly.

"We understand."

"I don’t think you do yet," she replied.

Her tone didn’t rise, but it hardened slightly.

"Let me make it clearer. This is not a project you use. This is a project you deliver."

That landed differently.

"Elections are close," she continued. "Everything is being watched. Every decision is being tracked. This is not the moment for shortcuts."

Neither of them tried to argue.

They didn’t disagree.

They couldn’t.

"Understood," the second man said.

There was a brief pause on the line, as if she was measuring whether to add anything else.

Then she did.

"You will also establish direct contact with him."

That shifted something.

The first man looked up.

"Direct?"

"Yes," she said. "No layers. No delays. No positioning."

Another pause.

"We need to understand exactly what he intends to do," she added. "And how far he is willing to go and be careful he already outsmarted you twice now you know he is sly so do it strictly by the book else there’s no saving you when it comes back to bite you."

The call ended shortly after that.

No closing words.

No soft landing.

Just silence returning to the room.

For a few seconds, neither of them moved.

The first man leaned back slowly, staring at nothing in particular.

"That’s new," he said.

The second man nodded slightly, his expression tighter.

"They’ve moved it out of our control."

"That happened already," the first man replied. "This just confirms it."

He picked up his phone again, scrolling through the feed quickly.

The numbers were still climbing.

Even after everything they had done.

Even after the calls.

Even after the removals.

"It’s not even local anymore," he said.

"No," the second man replied. "It isn’t."

They both knew what that meant.

They had reduced local voices.

They had forced removals.

They had slowed visibility where they had influence.

But none of that mattered now.

Because the conversation had already moved beyond where those controls worked.

The first man dropped his phone back on the table.

"So we move," he said.

The second man nodded.

"Set up the meeting."

Across the building, the report moved quickly.

She stepped into the office without waiting to be announced.

"He’s been briefed," she said.

The president didn’t look up immediately. He was already reading something on the tablet in front of him.

"And?" he asked.

"They attempted suppression," she said. "Local amplification was reduced. Influencers were contacted. Content was taken down."

He nodded slightly.

"And it failed."

"Yes."

That didn’t surprise him.

He set the tablet down and leaned back slightly.

"And the directive?"

"Delivered," she replied. "They understand."

"Do they?"

She hesitated for a second, then answered honestly.

"They don’t like it," she said. "But they understand the risk."

That got a small reaction.

"Good," he said.

There was a brief pause.

Then he asked, "What do you think of him?"

She didn’t answer immediately.

She chose her words carefully.

"He knows what he’s doing," she said. "This wasn’t accidental. The pressure, the timing, the visibility... it was structured."

He nodded once.

"I thought so."

"He’s not trying to play the system," she added. "He’s forcing it."

That made him look up.

"Interesting."

He leaned forward slightly, resting his hands together.

"And he didn’t ask for anything first."

"No."

Another small pause.

"I would like to meet this young man," he said with an amusing smile on his face.

****

Back across the city, in a quieter space, the shift had already been felt before it was confirmed.

Dayo sat with his phone in his hand, not scrolling, not reacting, just watching the pattern settle into something predictable.

Sharon stood a few steps away, finishing the call before turning back to him.

"They’ve reached out," she said.

He didn’t look surprised.

"When?" he asked.

"Just now. Formal request. Direct."

He nodded once.

"That was fast."

She watched him for a second.

"You knew this would happen."

"Yes." Dayo said with a smirk.

She stepped closer, crossing her arms slightly.

"How?"

He leaned back slightly, his gaze steady.

"They ran out of options," he said.

"That quickly?"

"It’s not about speed," he replied. "It’s about pressure."

She didn’t interrupt.

"Local suppression was always going to be their first move," he continued. "It’s standard. Reduce visibility, control narrative, wait for attention to drop."

"And when it didn’t?"

He tilted his head slightly.

"It moved outside their reach," he said. "That changes everything."

She nodded slowly.

"And the elections."

"That’s the real trigger," he said.

He sat forward slightly now.

"If this was six months ago, they would have let it drag," he continued. "Delay, redirect, bury it over time."

He shook his head once.

"But not now."

"Because they can’t afford it," she said.

"Yes."

He met her gaze.

"Every action matters right now," he added. "Every perception. Every reaction. They don’t get to ignore something like this when it’s already public."

She exhaled quietly.

"So this isn’t cooperation."

"No," he said. "It’s survival."

That settled it.

She nodded once.

"They want a meeting," she said again.

"I know."

She hesitated for a second.

"You’re going."

" Yes of course aftwr all I set all of this on motion ."

There was no pause in his answer.

No hesitation.

She watched him for a moment longer, then gave a small nod.

"Okay."

He stood up slowly, slipping his phone into his pocket.

"They’re ready to move," he said.

Not hopeful.

Not surprised.

Just certain.

And this time, they weren’t the ones setting the pace anymore.