MOJI’S CROWN

INT. MOJI’S BEDROOM – DAY

Soft afternoon light filters through patterned curtains. The room is modest but warm — family photos, schoolbooks, a framed childhood portrait of MOJI with thick natural hair.

MOJI (13) stands before a slightly worn mirror. She gently picks out her full, kinky hair, shaping it carefully. She stares proudly at her reflection.

She tilts her head. 

A soft smile forms. 

MOJI

(softly, to herself)

I love my hair.

She turns side to side, admiring the volume, the texture. She runs her fingers through it with care.

From the hallway…

MUM

Moji! Are you ready?

Moji freezes slightly 

Her mother appears in the doorway, smartly dressed, holding her car keys and handbag.

MUM

Let’s go. We have an appointment at the salon. It’s time to relax your hair to make it neat before school resumes.

Close up to Moji’s face, her smile fades. Her hand slowly drops from her hair.

A beat 

MOJI

(to quietly)

But… I don’t want to.

CUT TO: 

EXT. BEAUTY SALON – DAY

A modest neighbourhood salon. A slightly faded sign reads: Beauty Salon.

The distant hum of generators. Women chatting inside.

Moji and Mum approach. Moji walks slower than her mother.

INT. BEAUTY SALON – DAY

Bright fluorescent lights. The smell of chemicals. The buzz of dryers.

Women sit under hooded dryers. Magazines flip. Laughter rises and falls.

The stylist mixes relaxer in a plastic bowl. The creamy substance folds thickly under the brush.

SOUND EFFECTS:

The chatter dulls. The mixing sound becomes amplified.

Moji grips the armrests nervously.

Extreme close-up 

The white cream contrasts against her dark curls.

The brush inches closer.

Moji’s breathing quickens.

The salon noise fades into a low hum.

The brush is seconds away from touching her roots.

Moji’s eyes widened.

MOJI

(shouting)

NO!

The salon goes silent.

Every head turns.

The stylist freezes mid-air.

Moji stands abruptly, the chair rolling back slightly

Her voice trembles — but she pushes through.

MOJI

I don’t want to relax my hair.

I like it the way it is.

A beat 

Her mother looks stunned, embarrassed at first by the attention.

MUM

Moji —

MOJI

(steadier now)

It’s my hair.

The words hang.

The stylist lowers the brush slowly.

Other women in the salon exchange glances — some curious, some thoughtful.

Mum studies her daughter for the first time, really studies her. Saw the fear. The conviction

Her expression softens.

She steps closer. Lowers herself to Moji’s level.

MUM

(gently)

You should have told me how you felt

Moji swallows.

MOJI

I was scared you wouldn’t listen.

A pause.

Mum exhales, reflective.

MUM

You don’t have to do something you don’t believe in. Not for me. Not for anyone.

Moji’s eyes well slightly — relief, validation.

Mum removes the salon cape from around her daughter’s neck.

MUM (CONT’D)

Let’s go home.

Moji nods. 

They hug. 

They walk toward the exit together.

FADE OUT.

TEXT ON SCREEN:

“Your voice matters.”

GROUP 15 

Aloba Ifedolapo Esther                     240902292

Habeeb Khadijat Oyindamola       240902271

Okereafor Joy Munachimso            240902311

Akowe Laura Ojochenemi                240902234

Akinola Ayomikun Gloria                  240902180

Amaefunah Dante-Uriel                   240902253 

Ayintete Elijah Ayoola                         240902350

Odumosu David Oluwatobiloba     240902331

Azeez Faidat Eniola                             240902215

Taiwo Victor Ayomide                         24O902196