Dear Sophie.

Lately, been seeing your Visa On Arrival skits by BOVI .

I think you aren’t praised enough for that performance.

You exhibit growth.

You are a vibe.

People know this.

But some of these people may not know enough.

You were born into Nigerian–Lebanese roots.

Exotic. Beautiful. Different.

They don’t know how you danced your way into limelight.

Literally.

I remember Banky W’s “Lagos Party.”

That was you.

One of the girls making Lagos look like life.

I also remember Wizkid’s Holla at Your Boy.

We thought you would end up as Wizkid’s wife.

But you didn’t stop there.

You flipped it.

Acting.

TV shows.

Movies.

Becoming a face people trust with storylines.

Your hustle is visible.

From Halita to Skinny Girl in Transit.

From Assistant Madams to cinema screens.

Netflix is calling.

Showmax too.

Accolades?

They follow.

Not the loud, trophy-type.

But the consistent “she’s always working” type.

Directors call.

Brands sign.

Fans applaud.

Your crisis?

We know.

A marriage that didn’t work.

A story of love and lessons.

But you came out strong.

Independent. Focused.

A mother.

A hustler.

A survivor.

Your beauty?

Unquestionable.

Skin like poetry.

Eyes like conversation.

Style like an art exhibit.

I like the current thick body.

Your essence?

You don’t shout.

You don’t chase clout the hard way.

You build.

You grow.

You evolve.

And that’s your relevance.

In an industry that forgets fast.

You remain.

You stay.

You matter.

Dear Sophie,

This is your instaletter.

A reminder.

That you are more than just a screen queen.

You are a story still unfolding.

Your Thick Version Spotter

Ediale

#ForTheCulture

PS: You fine.