Chapter 3: Zoom Fails, Wedding Scandals, and the Great Wi-Fi Blackout
If you thought Simba's life couldn't get any more tangled, you haven't met his new nemesis: the internet.
After his spectacular church fainting fiasco and the borrowed Benz stunt, Simba had sworn to upgrade his fake life with something even more "professional." He decided it was time to join the world of Zoom calls, webinars, and virtual meetings—the holy grail of digital success.
Simba had no idea what Zoom really was. He only knew it involved "video," "screen sharing," and "muting yourself," whatever that meant. But that didn't stop him from claiming he was hosting international business meetings daily.
The trouble started when he received a "Zoom invite" from a so-called "business partner" he had met on WhatsApp. This partner, who went by the mysterious name "Mr. Cashflow," promised Simba a deal worth millions—if only Simba could attend a video call and present himself well.
Simba panicked.
He googled "how to look rich on Zoom" and learned three key things:
1. Find a nice background.
2. Don't forget to wear pants.
3. Mute your mic when you're not talking.
He only mastered number two. The rest was a disaster.
On the big day, Simba dressed in his fanciest shirt, ironed for the first time in years, and sat in front of a cracked mirror to practice his smile. The "background" was his mother's kitchen wall, decorated with a faded calendar from 2017 and a hanging plastic bag full of onions.
As he clicked the Zoom link, his laptop started making noises like it was about to explode. Simba's internet connection, borrowed from the neighbor's cracked Wi-Fi, was slower than a tortoise in quicksand.
The meeting began.
Simba's video feed froze repeatedly. Sometimes he disappeared completely, only to reappear with half his face cut off. When he finally spoke, his voice echoed like he was talking inside a cave.
Mr. Cashflow stared suspiciously. "Are you there, Simba?"
Simba nodded vigorously, hoping the camera would catch it.
Then came the moment of truth. Mr. Cashflow asked Simba to share his screen and present his business plan.
Simba, sweating bullets, clicked randomly on his desktop. Instead of his carefully prepared presentation, his entire photo folder popped up, showing selfies, embarrassing dance videos, and a folder named "Funny Memes to Send Lisa."
"Oh no," Simba thought.
Mr. Cashflow's face turned from intrigued to confused. "Is this part of the plan?"
Simba, quick on his feet, said, "Yes, it's a new marketing strategy. Viral content."
The call ended abruptly.
Simba's dreams of becoming an international tycoon via Zoom died faster than his laptop battery.
Determined not to be defeated, Simba moved on to his next big fake life project: faking a wedding.
Now, why would a 23-year-old, single, broke guy fake a wedding? Because that's what legends do.
He told everyone he was getting married to a beautiful woman named Natasha, who was "studying medicine in Italy." He posted photoshopped images of himself next to a woman with a pixelated face and claimed these were engagement pictures taken in Cape Town.
The village went wild.
Aunties started making matchmaking plans. The local butcher offered a special wedding goat discount. Even the chief's wife promised to bake a giant cake.
Simba needed to keep the illusion alive, so he rented a blazer again—this time with a matching tie and a pair of shoes that pinched his feet so badly he walked like a baby giraffe.
He staged a fake wedding photo shoot with his friend Tendai, who reluctantly played the role of the priest, dressed in a bathrobe with a garden hoe as a staff.
They set up the scene at the village borehole, decorated with plastic flowers stolen from the local shop and colorful ribbons borrowed from the tailor's shop.
Simba stood awkwardly next to Tendai, holding a bunch of wilted roses. A passerby snapped photos on a shaky phone, and Simba posted the pictures on all social media platforms with the caption: "Forever starts today."
The likes came pouring in.
But real trouble started when Lisa, the girl who had once liked Simba's fake Harvard posts but now was suspicious, decided to confront him.
"Simba, where is Natasha?" she asked via WhatsApp.
Simba replied with his best poker face emoji. "She's in Italy. Medical internship. Busy saving lives."
Lisa was not convinced. She sent a video of a woman who looked exactly like the one in the photos. "That's your friend Tendai, isn't it?"
Simba panicked and texted back, "That's Natasha's twin. Very secretive family."
The conversation ended abruptly when Lisa blocked him.
Meanwhile, the village was buzzing about the upcoming wedding. Invitations were supposedly sent, but no one had seen an actual date or venue.
One morning, the chief's wife showed up at Simba's house holding a wedding dress she had sewn for Natasha. Simba had no choice but to hide it under a pile of maize sacks.
Then disaster struck: the village experienced the Great Wi-Fi Blackout.
No one could send messages, watch videos, or pretend to work online. The blackout lasted three days, and Simba's "international deals" were on hold.
He was unreachable.
Panicked fans tried to call and text him, but all they got was silence.
The blackout had an unexpected side effect: it gave Simba time to reflect on his fake life. Sitting under the mango tree, watching goats wander and children play, he realized he might be in too deep.
Then his phone finally buzzed.
A message from a stranger: "Simba, we want to interview you on national radio about your inspiring story."
Simba's heart skipped a beat.
National radio?
Was this the big break?
Or the beginning of the end?
He didn't know. But one thing was sure: his fake life was about to go public.
And Simba, the master of lies, had to prepare the biggest performance of his life.
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Chapter 4 is loading… Prepare for live radio disasters, confused goats, and a wedding no one will forget.