: "The Seaweed Scheme & Sponsorship Scandals"
Zoe had exactly 47 minutes of peace.
She'd finally managed to escape to a coffee shop with Wi-Fi that didn't think buffering was a lifestyle. She had her headphones in, an oat latte in hand, and was halfway through editing a video titled "Affordable Tech Gadgets That Won't Explode Your Life"—a subtle nod to her past trauma.
Then her phone buzzed.
Aunt Pauline:
> "Darling! Good news! I've joined something magical. Ethically mystical. Practically oceanic."
Zoe frowned.
Zoe:
> "...You joined a cult?"
Pauline:
> "Close. It's called SEAWEED RICHES INTERNATIONAL. I'm officially a platinum ambassador! We're turning algae into affluence!"
Zoe immediately started Googling "Is my aunt in a pyramid scheme or just extra?"
---
The Great Green Goop
When Zoe returned home, she found the living room had transformed into a makeshift spa. There were sachets of green powder on every surface, and Sir Squawksalot had seaweed stuck to his beak like a beard.
Pauline was on a video call with a woman named "Coach Lulu," who spoke in motivational riddles and wore four chokers.
"You just have to BELIEVE in the SEA," Coach Lulu said. "Sell the dream. Sell the detox. Sell the destiny."
Pauline turned and whispered, "She's a genius. She once sold kelp soap to a bishop."
Zoe stared. "Auntie. This is a scam."
"It's not a scam," Pauline said proudly. "It's a multi-level opportunity for intergenerational marine wealth."
"That's exactly what a scam sounds like," Zoe muttered.
---
Zoe's First Real Sponsorship (That Goes Wrong Immediately)
Ironically, just as Pauline was diving into algae capitalism, Zoe got an email from a tech brand she'd admired for years.
They wanted her to promote their new smart earbuds. They even offered actual money—not exposure, not soap, not promises of "glow." Just clean, grown-up, actual cash.
Zoe screamed into a couch cushion.
Then she read the fine print.
The brand? PlugBuzz.
The same brand whose earbuds exploded in her ear last year during a gym session, nearly making her go viral as "Girl Who Got Electrocuted Mid-Squat."
She had publicly dragged them in an Instagram story that was later screenshotted and posted to Reddit under:
> "Kenyan Creators Who Fear Nothing: Vol 3."
Now they wanted to pay her. Handsomely.
Zoe paced the kitchen. Pauline was stirring seaweed paste in a bucket.
"I need advice," Zoe said.
Pauline looked up. "Always take the bag, darling. You can always sage your conscience later."
---
Pauline's Herbal Hustle Expands (Unfortunately)
By week's end, Pauline had set up a seaweed tasting booth in the building's parking lot. There was a handwritten sign: "Come Get Wet With Wealth!"
Mr. Kibet reported her to the Residents' Association. Again.
But it was too late. Pauline had already convinced three neighbors to sign up under her, including the overly friendly baker from downstairs and that one aunty who always had onions in her purse.
They were now calling themselves the "Kale Queens."
Zoe came home to find them chanting over a blender.
---
Crisis at PlugBuzz
Just as Zoe was about to record her totally fake glowing review of the earbuds ("So comfortable! So safe! Definitely won't explode in your ear canal!"), she got a notification.
A trending video had surfaced. Some poor guy in Mombasa had posted a 12-second clip titled "THEY BLEW UP IN THE MATATU."
PlugBuzz was trending. For all the wrong reasons.
Zoe slowly lowered the earbuds.
Sir Squawksalot squawked, "LIABILITY!"
---
Rock Bottom—or Something Like It
Zoe sat on the floor, surrounded by camera gear, half-written scripts, unpaid bills, and the smell of seaweed smoothies in the air.
"I just want to make decent content," she sighed. "I don't want to sell algae or lie for capitalism or get canceled because my aunt thinks chia seeds cure heartbreak."
Pauline entered dramatically, wearing a cape made of silver curtains and a crown fashioned from reusable coffee pods.
She placed a hand on Zoe's shoulder. "You don't have to choose, darling."
"What?"
"You can make good content and still sell the fantasy. Just make sure your fantasy comes with a refund policy."