When ambition met reality
Behind the high-gloss exterior of pageants lies a world many don’t see. For Chidimma Adetshina, the journey into the Miss South Africa 2024 competition was framed with hope—but also with raw challenges. In a recent social media post, she shared an honest moment that resonated across the country: she didn’t have enough clothes to compete and found herself leaning on someone she met inside the arena.
Borrowing more than just an outfit
Adetshina revealed that during the “Crown Chasers” segment of the pageant, she struggled with basic resources. She wrote that she was “in shambles” and couldn’t even manage her own makeup. She thanked fellow finalist Onalenna for stepping in—lending clothes and offering solidarity, even while the two were technically in competition. Those words added an unexpected dose of humility and humanity to a competition that often seems unshakeably polished.
The echoes on social media
Since the revelation, the reaction online has been varied. Some users applauded her transparency and applauded the importance of the support she mentioned. Others were more critical, accusing her of oversharing or stirring drama. One commenter captured the split response: “Keep pushing and open doors for others as well,” while another bluntly remarked, “You still haven’t moved on.” Material like this matters because it peels back the glossy curtain and shows the human side of pageantry in South Africa.
A little history behind the crown
Pageants in South Africa have long been both platforms of aspiration and mirrors of societal tension. For many young women, entering Miss SA means navigating not only fashion and poise but also socio-economic gaps and cultural expectations. In Adetshina’s case, she came into the competition amid broader discussion about identity, national belonging, and representation, as she herself has mixed heritage and ties to Nigeria. Those questions formed a backdrop to her experience—even as she focused on a very immediate and tangible struggle: what to wear and how to show up.
A fresh angle: vulnerability as strength
Rather than a tale of glamour, this is a story of resilience and authenticity. Adetshina’s admission that she didn’t have enough clothes is a reminder that even in well-lit spotlights, people carry unseen burdens. It reframes the narrative of a beauty competition: success is not just about the crown but overcoming obstacles along the way. Her gratitude to Onalenna opens up a broader view of sisterhood in competitive spaces—a theme that resonates far beyond pageants, especially in South Africa, where solidarity often lives in unexpected places.
When contesting for Miss SA I was in shambles.
I didn't have enough clothes to wear for the crown chasers show neither could I do my own makeup.But Onalenna held my hand through it all.
Most outfits I wore for the show were given to me by her even though she was also… pic.twitter.com/dc8Qu5oDWP— Chidimma Adetshina (@chichi_vanessaa) November 2, 2025
What this says about culture and expectation
In Mzansi, showcasing the ideal version of oneself is commonplace—from Instagram feeds to public events. Adetshina’s moment of vulnerability disrupts that expectation and invites us to reflect on what’s normal behind the selfies and red carpets. It also invites broader discussion: how many young women entering high-pressure spaces do so without full support? How many borrow clothes, confidence, or networks just to stand on stage? Her story beams a spotlight on those hidden stories and invites empathy.
Looking ahead
Adetshina’s participation in the Miss SA pageant may have been short-lived, but the ripple effects of her openness are lasting. For anyone entering a competition, auditioning for something big, or simply navigating a life change, the lesson is clear: being open about uncertainty can be powerful. In her words, the journey continues—clothes or not, what remains is the courage to show up and the strength to thank those who helped along the way.
Source: Briefly News
Featured Image: BellaNaija
