The Club of Influential Women… alive but dead for 20 years 

The club of influential women all dead for 20 years. The stories Fiona’s Africans. In the world of business, there are networks, closed circles, private clubs where meet the most beautiful women powerful, those who lead companies, which sit in boards of directors, which take decisions that change lives. Receive an invitation to join one of these clubs, it is the culmination of a career, it is the consecration, the sign that you have succeeded.

 Fatou thought he had won his chance life when she received this invitation. The Pearl Circle, a legendary club made up of the most influential of the country. Those that everyone talks about, the one we dream of becoming. She didn’t know although these women had a secret. A secret that explained their insolent success, their immoral wealth, their absolute power, a secret who would trap her for eternity.

Fatou was 32 years old, director salesperson in a multinational, graduated from the best schools, ambitious, determined, ready for anything to succeed. She had climbed the rungs quickly, too quickly, some said. In 5 years, she had gone from simple saleswoman to director with a salary of six figures, a company car, a apartment in the chic neighborhood, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted more.

She wanted to be at the top, to join the elite, the ones invited to the gala, the one whose photos appear in magazines economic, the one that really counts. One Monday morning, she found a envelope on his cream paper desk sealed with a gold wax seal. Sound name was written by hand in letters elegant.

 Inside she opened a invitation card. The circle of pearls is pleased to invite you to join Nan. Welcome cocktail this Friday at 8 p.m. Evening attire required. Response before Wednesday. Faatou felt his heart leaping. The circle of pearls. She had heard about it. All the everyone was talking about it. It was the club the more prestigious, the more closed.

 We said that all great women business people in the country were doing it party. Mrs. Adjoisa, CEO of a banking group. Mrs Mariama, Minister of the Economy. Mrs Cady, owner of the largest chain hotel and at least twenty others, all living legends. Join this club meant having access to their networks, to their contacts, to their opportunities.

It was the jackpot. Fatou replied immediately. I accept with joy and honor. On Friday evening, she prepared carefully. Black evening dress, high heel, discreet but expensive jewelry, perfect makeup. The address given on the invitation was that of a hotel particularly in a residential area UP. She arrived at 8 p.m. sharp.

 A valet took his car. A major man greeted him at the door. Miss Fatou? Yes, welcome to Circle of Pearls. This way, if you pleases. He led her through a elegantly decorated hallway, then into a large living room, luxurious, armchairs velvet, crystal chandeliers, master paintings on the wall. About ten women were already there, all elegant, all in their fifties or sixty.

 They were chatting sipping champagne. Fatou recognized immediately certain faces. Madam Adjois, Madame Mariama, Madame Cadi in flesh and blood, all smiling, all radiant, a woman approaches, the sixties. Gray hair cut short, piercing gaze , she wore an immaculate white suit. Fatou, I presume. I am Mrs. Amina, the president of the circle.

 Enchanted madam. Welcome among us. We have been following your career since some time. You are impressive. Thank you ma’am. It’s a honor to be here. Madam Amina smiles. The honor will be mutual. Come, I I will introduce you to the other members. Fatou spent the evening chatting with its extraordinary women.

 They were warm and welcoming. She asked him questions about his journey, his ambitions, his projects. “You want to create your own company?” asked Madame Adjois. “Yes, it’s my dream, but I don’t have the capital yet. Capital comes to those who know how to deserve it. You will see, once in the circle, everything become

s possible.” At 11 p.m., Madame Amina knocked her glass with a spoon. Silence fell. “Ladies, the time has come. Fatou, follow me please.” Fatou followed madame Amina. Accompanied by all the others members. They went down a staircase towards the basement. At the bottom, a large circular piece. The walls were covered with portraits, portraits of women, all different but all with the same look.

 Determined, powerful. In the center of the room, a round black marble table with 24 chairs around. Sit down, said madam Amina pointing to a chair. Fatou sat down. The other members took their places around the table. Madam Amina remained standing. Fatou, before officially become a member of the circle beads, you must know our history and our secret .

Fatou raised his head, intrigued. The circle was founded 40 years ago by 12 women extraordinary, pioneers, swinging. They wanted to succeed in a world dominated by men, but she ran into walls, glass ceilings, closed doors. Madame Amina paused then continued. So they made a pact with an entity, an entity that offers the success, wealth, power.

 In exchange of absolute loyalty, Fatou frowned. An entity? Yes, you will soon meet her. But first, know this, thanks to this pact, the members of the circle always succeed. Their businesses prosper, their investments report, their enemies fail, it’s guaranteed. And what is the price? Madam Amina smiles.

 There are two conditions. First, you must attend our monthly meetings here without exception. Second, you don’t can never leave the circle. A Once a member, you are a member forever. Forever, even after death. Fatou felt a shiver. What are you mean? You will find out. But first tell me, do you accept to join the circle, to honor the pact? Fatou hesitated, something there troubled, but ambition was stronger. I accept. Perfect.

Madame Amina clapped her hands. Twice. The lights went out completely. Fatou no longer saw anything. Then a light appeared in the center of the table. A cold bluish light. And in this light, something is materialized. Fatou et widened his eyes. In the center of the table floated a transparent sphere filled with smoke black that swirled.

  And in this smoke, a face appeared. A woman’s face but not really human. The features were too perfect, too symmetrical. The eyes had no pupils, just a white one laux. “A new recruit,” says one voice that came from everywhere at once. Soft, hypnotic. “Come closer, Fatou !” Fatou wanted to step back, but her body did not obey him.

 She rose, approached the sphere. Don’t have fear. I am the protector, the one who has been watching over the circle for 40 years, the one who gives success to my daughters. What are you exactly? I am this that you want me to be. A goddess, a spirit, a force, whatever. What account, this is what I can offer you.

What ? Everything you want. Wealth, power, influence, success. Your businesses will prosper, your enemies will fall, you will be respected, admired. fear makes everything feel the attraction, the temptation and in exchange for your loyalty, you you will attend the meetings, you will serve the circle and when you die, your spirit join me, you will continue to serve from the other side.

 My mind? Yes, look around you. Fatou looked at the other members seated around the table. She was smiling, but now that she was watching them really, she noticed something strange. They were there physically, but there was some translucent thing, as if they were not quite solid. “These women are dead,” said the protective.

 Some 20 years ago, others 10 years ago, others 5 years ago, but they continue to serve the circle. In exchange, I allow them to demonstrate once a month for our meetings. Fatou felt the terror climb. You mean all these women are ghosts, linked minds? Yes. Madam Amina is died in 2004. Madame Adjo in 2012, Madame Mariama in 2015.

 Fatou looked at Madame Amina who was smiling calmly. “Is that true?” asked Fatou in a trembling voice. “Yes”, replied Mrs. Amina. I died there 21 years ago, heart attack, but thanks in the pact, I continue to exist, to participate, to influence. But how does the world not know? Because we are being replaced.

 When a member dies, her business moves to an heiress chosen by the circle. This heiress is taking our name, our identity. Nobody notice the difference. Fatou shake her head. This is madness. This is the price power, said the protector. And now you have to choose. Join us or refuse. But know that if you refuse, you will leave this room without any memory of what happened passed here.

 You will return to your life ordinary without ever having this chance again. Fatou looked around her. These women she admired so much, these living legends. They were dead and yet she continued to influence the world. Was it worth it sell your soul for success? She thought about his dreams, his business, his fortune, his name in magazines, everything she had ever wanted.

“I accept”, she whispered. “Perfect !” The protector extended something from the sphere, a sort of tentacle of smoke that wrapped around the wrist of Fatou. She felt a cold burn like ice cream. When the smoke removed, there was a mark on his black pearl shaped wrist. You are now bound forever. The lights came back on, the sphere disappeared. Madame Amina applauds.

Welcome officially my dear. You you are now one of us. The other members applauded too. Faatou looked at them. She seemed to new solid. Normal. You are really all dead? she asked. Yes, replied Mrs. Cady, smiling. But as you can see, death is just a detail. The weeks that followed were extraordinary for Fatou.

 Everything the protector had promised came true. Sound general manager offered him a promotion. Regional Director with a salary multiplied by 3. An investor that she didn’t even know the conta. He wanted to finance his project business 2 million. Without guarantee, just because he heard about of her.

 Its competitors were failing mysteriously. A contract that she coveted fell into his hands because its main competitor was caught in a scandal. In 3 months, Fatou launched her own company, a consulting agency marketing. Customers flocked like by magic. In 6 months she was 20 employees, offices in a building prestigious, contracts with the most major companies in the country.

 She was invited to VIP events. The magazines interview him. We were talking of her like the new star rising business. It was exhilarating, addictive and every month she attended at circle meetings. They had always takes place on the last Friday of month at 8 p.m. in the hotel basement particular. Fatus was used to presence of the protector, the strange atmosphere, to the fact that the other members were ghosts.

During meetings, she would discuss do, shared opportunities, supported each other. “I have a contract government that is coming”, said Mrs. Mariama. I can redirect it towards someone in the circle who is interested? Me, replied Fatou. My company can handle this. Perfect, I take care of it.

 And 3 days later, Fatou actually received the call. The contract was hers. It was like have an infallible network, access direct to power. But sometimes, Fatou noticed strange things. By example, Madame Adjois sometimes spoke recent events. The news banking reform will impact our investments. But Madame Adjois had died in 2012, 13 years earlier.

How could she know what was happening? happening now? One evening, Fatou posed the question: “Madame Adjois, how do you know what is happening in the world current? You are finally, you know, Madame Adjois smiles because I I’m not really dead, my flesh. My body is, but my mind watches through my heirs, through the circle.

 I see everything about our business. Your heirs? Yes, when I died, a young woman took my place. She runs my bank now under my name. She carries my identity and I guide her. I whisper to his ear. She believes these are her own thoughts, but that’s me. Fatou felt uneasy. So when you die, someone will take your place also, will bear your name. Exactly.

This is how the circle remains eternal. We will never really die. We continue through our successors. Fatou thought back to the mark on her wrist. She sometimes tried to hide, but she was still there, visible. Once, his assistant asked her, “Madam, is it what is this tattoo? A memory”, had replied Fatou vaguely.

 But deep down, she knew it was the mark of the pact, the jump that bound her. The months passed. Fatou was becoming more and more richer, more and more influential. His business was booming. It opened offices in three other large cities, hired people. Magazines ranked her among the most successful business women powerful people in the country.

 She was invited to conferences international, but sometimes at night, she had nightmares. She saw in the sphere, trapped, trapped in black smoke. She woke up in a sweat, told himself that it was was worth it, that success justified everything. One year after his entry in the circle, something changed. It was a Tuesday morning.

 Fatou received a call from Mrs. Amina. Fatou, you have to come to the hotel particular immediately. Now, I have an important meeting in a hour. Cancel it, it’s urgent. The tone left no room for discussion. Fatou canceled his meeting, took his car, arrived at the hotel especially 30 minutes later. Madam Amina was waiting for him in the living room.

 “What does it pass?” Fatou asked. Mrs Cady died last night. Accident car. Fatou felt her heart tighten. Oh no, I’m sorry. Don’t don’t be. It was planned. Foreseen ? Yes. The protector needed her on the other side for a important mission. Fatou didn’t understand not. What do you mean? The protector controls our destinies.

She decides when we let us die, when our usefulness is no longer great as a spirit than as alive. Are you telling me that she killed Mrs. Cady? No, she simply allowed the accident arrives. She could have prevented it, but she didn’t do it because it was the moment. Fatou stepped back. It’s it’s horrible. It’s the pact.

 Fatou, you knew when signing. I didn’t know that she could kill us when she wants. Madam Amina sighed. She doesn’t not done on a whim, just when necessary. Mrs Cady was seventy years old. His health was declining. As a spirit she will be more useful, more powerful. And me, she can decide to kill me tomorrow. Technically, yes, but she won’t do it. You are young.

 You have still much to accomplish in the physical world. Your time will come, but not for a long time. Fatou felt nauseous. She had signed for success, not to give control of his life. and its death to an entity. I want to leave, she whispered. Leave, leave the circle. Madame Amina stared at her. You can’t. Of course I can.

 I resigns. I return the mark. I’m out of it go. Fatou, listen to me carefully. The pact is eternal. You can’t break it. If you try to leave, the protector will take everything back from you. Your business will collapse, your health will decline and you will die quickly in suffering. Fatou felt tears welling up.

 So, I am a prisoner. You are a member. For always like all of us, Fatou came home at home collapsed. She had made a terrible mistake. The weeks that followed, she tried to convince herself that it was going well, that the success was worth it price, that everything would be fine as long as she remained loyal.

 But the fear was always there, the fear of dying, of being killed by the protector when she would decide that Fatou was more useful, dead than alive. The following month, when from the circle meeting, Mrs. Cady was there, sitting in her usual place, smiling, translucent. “Good evening ladies,” she said happily, nice to see you again.

 The others welcomed him warmly, as if it was normal. Fatou la stared. “Madame Cady, you don’t don’t regret it? Regret what?” “To be dead.” Mrs. Cady laughs. “Dead?” “I I’m not dead, my dear. I just changed shape. And now I am more powerful than ever. What do you mean?” As a spirit I can influence directly to the living, whisper to their ears, manipulate their thoughts, cause events.

 It’s good more effective than when I was alive. Fatou shivered. These women did not see not even death like a fa, just like a transition. She understood that she had walked into something much darker than she had imagined. 2 years passed. Fatou continued to attend meetings, to develop your business, to succeed.

But she was unhappy, empty. She had everything she wanted, except freedom. One day she met a marabou, a man renowned for his knowledge of spirits and pacts. She explained her situation to him without mention the name of the circle, just the principle. I am linked to an entity by a pact.

 I want to break this pact. The marabou looked at her for a long time. Show me the brand. She showed him her wrist, the black pearl. He hissed through his teeth. It’s a powerful, very old pact. Break it up will not be easy. But it’s possible maybe. We must weaken the entity, deprive it of its source of power.

 What source? The spirits linked, those who serve it from the other side. If you free these spirits, the entity will lose its power and the pact will break. How do we release spirits by offering them what they really want? peace, rest, Faour thinks. So I have to convince the dead members of the circle of what? To leave, to renounce their bond, to refuse to serve.

 If they all do it at the same time time, the entity will be weakened and you you can escape. Fatou returned home her, her mind in turmoil. It was risky, very risky, but it was only chance. She started talking to members died discreetly, one by one to Mam Adjois first. During a meeting, she took him aside. Madam, can I ask you a question personal? Of course you don’t never regret being the way you are, for not having been able to die, rest in peace? Madame Adjois frowned eyebrows.

 Why would I want rest here? I am useful, influential, alive in my own way. But you are not not really alive. You are trapped. Trap ? No, I’m free. Freer than you. Fatou understood that this wouldn’t work with Madame Adjoa. She tried with others. Mrs Mariama, Mrs. Aïcha, Mrs. Bintu. All refused. They loved their conditions.

 They didn’t want leave, except for one. Mrs. Salimata, a woman died only 6 months ago, still young, 42 years old at the time of his dead. You’re right. whispered Madame Salimata in a private conversation. I regret. I would really like to be dead. Finding my children. They’re still crying and I can’t comfort them.

 So help me, refuse to serve. Break your bond. Is it possible? Yes, but you have to do it all together, otherwise protector will punish us. Mrs Salimata hesitated. I’ll think about it. But Fatou didn’t give him time to think too long because the The next day, the protector summoned her. Fatou arrived at the mansion, went down to the basement.

 The protector awaited him in his sphere alone. Fatou, you’ve been very busy lately time. I don’t understand. You sow it doubt. You seek to break the pact, you consult marabou. Fatou felt the panic. How did she know? I know everything, a Fatou. I am linked to you. I see your thoughts without your emotions. You can’t hide anything from me.

 So, you are me. If you know everything, you are me now. Protectiveness. Kill you. No, you are much more useful alive for the moment. What do you want? Give you a choice. Stop your ridiculous attempts. Accept your destiny. Keep serving faithfully. Or, or what? Or well I’ll take someone you like. Your mother, your brother, your boyfriend.

 I lilies to the pact in your place. You will be freed, but they will be prisoners forever. Fatou felt tears flowed. You are a monster. I am what you agreed to serve. The choice is yours. Rest or condemns a loved one. Faatou fell to knees, sobbed. She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t sacrifice his family. I’m staying, she whispered.

 I remains. Wise decision. The months passed. Fatou abandoned her escape attempts, continued to serve the circle. His business was thriving always. She was becoming more and more rich, more and more powerful, but she was dead inside. One evening, 5 years after entering the circle, she received a strange call. Miss Fatou? Yes, my name is Aminata, I am a journalist.

I am investigating the circle of pearls. Fatou felt his senses frozen. I don’t know what you’re talking about. If you know, I discovered something. The women in this circle, they are all dead for years but they continue to appear, to lead businesses. How is this possible? Are you delirious? No, I have proof, death certificates, testimonies. I’m going to publish an article.

Reveal the truth. Fatou panika. Don’t do nothing. You don’t know what you put yourself. Exactly, help me. Testify. Together, we can stop. Fatou hesitated. It was his chance, one last chance to liberate by exposing everything. All right. Meet me tomorrow at the cafe noon boulevard. I’ll be there. Fatour hung on with a beating heart.

 It was dangerous, very dangerous, but she couldn’t live like that anymore. The next day, she arrived at the café, sat down, waited. Noon. Amiata was not not there. 12:15 p.m., still not. 12:30 p.m. Fatou began to worry. She called Aminata’s number, no response. She returned home, turned on the news and there she saw.

A young journalist found dead this morning in Minata, 28 years old, cause of death, apparent suicide. Fatou felt the ground slip under her. It was not a suicide, she knew it. The protector had acted quickly, effectively. That evening, Fatou received a message from Madam Amina. You made a mistake, Fatou, but I will be lenient.

This time, never do it again. Fatou understood. She was always watched. She could never escape. The years passed 10 years, 15 years, 20 years. Fatou was now 52 years old. Still as rich, still as rich influential, but empty, exhausted, prisoner. One evening, during a meeting from the circle, the protector spoke to him.

Fatou, you served well for 20 years, but your time is coming. My time? Yes, in 6 months you will die. Car accident quickly, painlessly and you will meet me on the other side. Fatou felt nothing. Neither fear nor sadness, just an acceptance resigned. Okay. You don’t protest? To what? Okay, you won from the start.

 The protective smiles. I always win, Fatou. Still so months later, Fatou died. As expected car accident. Newspapers spoke of tragedy. A great woman businessman left too soon. A young wife, Mariam was chosen to take over his company, to bear his name, to become the new Fatou. And when of the first meeting of the circle after his death, Fatou was there, sitting in her usual place, translucent, smiling.

 “Good evening, ladies”, she said, “pleased with you find.” The others welcomed him as they had welcomed all others before her. And the circle continued : “Eternal, powerful, insatiable! Today, somewhere, a young ambitious woman has just received a cream paper envelope sealed with a golden wax seal. His name written at her hand, she opens it, reads the invitation.

The pearl circle is pleased to invite you. She smiles. This is the chance of his life, success, wealth, power. She doesn’t know even though she has just received a condemnation, that the women she goes meet have been dead for years years, decades for some. That the price of success is much more higher than anything she can imagine, that once it enters, it will not come out never, neither alive nor dead.

 The circle always recruiting, always looking for new souls, new servants. Maybe the next invitation will be for you. Maybe your ambition will blind you as it has blinded Fatou, as she blinds all those who walk through this door. The success comes at a price. Sometimes this price is your soul, your freedom, your eternity.

 Think carefully before to accept an invitation that is too nice to be true because there are circles from which we never escape. In the business world, beware of miraculous opportunities, networks too powerful, from clubs too exclusive. Always ask yourself what is the real price? What do we expect me in return? And am I ready to pay it? The success achieved by shortcuts are never really available you.

 It belongs to those who gave it and they will always come claim their dues. Build your is getting worse yourself slowly, honestly, freely because true wealth, it’s your freedom and that, no pact should never take it from you. Thank you for following this story. If she made your blood run cold, subscribe and like.

 See you soon for news history. Oh.