Lekki is an area in Lagos state, Nigeria, known for its rapid development and a blend of modernity and tradition. It has become a hotspot for celebrities in the music and Nollywood industries, attracting aspiring talents who hope to make connections with established figures.

The place is always alive, buzzing with energy. Neon lights bounce off luxury cars, towering apartments loom over the city like silent gods, and the beat of the night pulses through the streets. For outsiders, it seems like paradise—where dreams come to life and rising stars thrive. But for those on the inside, it is a façade hiding something far more sinister.

Zion is one of them—a rising star on TikTok, who left his hometown, Ibadan, to Lagos in pursuit of a better life. His carefully crafted videos, full of life and luxury, paint a picture of success, of having made it in a world most could only admire from afar. Designer clothes, foreign cars, dinners at high-end restaurants—it all seemed to fall into his lap effortlessly. His followers envy him, thinking he has unlocked some secret. But beneath the flash is a dark truth: Zion’s success is not built on endorsements or deals. Behind the scenes, he is laundering money for politicians and sophisticated yahoo boys, securing his glamorous lifestyle through dirty transactions. The fame, the millions of followers—it is all a mask hiding a boy caught in a web of corruption, selling his hole—at first—then, his soul—bit by bit.

Zion’s story is just one of many in a world where rising stars are preyed upon. Young boys, still green with innocence, become victims to male celebrities and pastors who use their positions of power to oil them. Bodies are traded for clout, for fame, and for opportunities that come at too high a price. Homosexuality, though unspoken, is a gateway into the inner circles of the industry, keeping its participants trapped in cycles of silence, shame, and exploitation.

Cultism, however, is something else entirely. It is brazen, flaunted like a badge of honor among those who wear it. Young men and women are initiated into secret circles, bound by oaths of secrecy and loyalty. Those who are not drawn in by its allure are forced in, like Chibuzo, the only son of his family. A rising star in his own right, he became collateral damage in a rival gang war. His dismembered body, found in the streets, sent shockwaves through the underworld, but it was just another casualty in a war nobody had asked for, fueled by one and only one reason—ego!

The girls are no safer. Lured by promises of fame and luxury, many found themselves smuggling drugs across borders, or worse, falling into addiction to cope with the realities of their new lives. Their once-bright futures now shattered, they roam the streets like lost souls, their bodies broken, their minds fried by the drugs they once trafficked.

Meanwhile, social media paint a different picture. A world of glitz and glamour. Young stars flaunt their wealth and success, posing in front of mansions they do not own, wearing clothes they cannot afford, all for likes, all for shares. Behind the filters, the reality is much darker.

TikTokers and skit-makers lie about their wealth, masking their true involvement in illicit activities. Cybercrime and money laundering thrive beneath the surface, just another part of the shadow economy that keeps this entertainment industry alive.

The facade of fame in this dark underworld has its performers, each with their own act. There is one such figure—a man with deformed testosterone whose camera often focuses on bodies—instead of talents. His subjects, women flaunting curves, with nyansh and breasts exaggerated enough to get one popular phrase: “It’s massive, baby,” out of the mouth of the most modest of beings. But beneath the surface, the phrase hints at a booming pimpwork—the larger world of commodification and exploitation that thrives behind the scenes. In the video, the allure of riches captured through recorded moments is an illusion, masking the grim reality of exchanges made in the shadows, where endowed ladies, whom gullible spectators see as hot chicks are merely pawns in a darker, hidden game.

Back to cultism: unlike the secrecy that shroud homosexuality and cybercrime, cult affiliations are worn proudly. Celebrities boast of their affiliations, taunting rivals and asserting their power. But it is a ticking time bomb. The open flaunting of these cults set the stage for an inevitable clash. A rival war is perhaps brewing beneath the surface, one that would tear through the industry, taking down the very celebrities who had built their empires on its toxic foundation. Only then, when bodies litter the streets, will people see the menace for what it truly is: an epidemic too deep-rooted to ignore.

This dark underworld, kept hidden behind designer sunglasses and perfectly framed photos, threaten to consume everything in its path. Cultism, homosexuality, cybercrime, drug peddling—they are the pillars holding up this crumbling empire. And when it finally falls, it will take many down with it.