DaSilva

One

I studied my reflection in the mirror. Scrutinized would be a more appropriate word though.

'Hello, Good day my name is Itunu Da Silva. '

No no too Old School.

'My name is Itunu. Itunu Da Silva. '

Introducing myself the way James Bond did really had a nice ring to it, don't you think.

' I'm Itunu Da Silva nice to make your acquaintance.'

I decided on the last one, better to keep it short and concise.

With one last look at the mirror I told my reflection to wish me luck I felt like I'd need lots of it. I sped out of the house shouting a goodbye to whoever was within hearing range.

I had a job interview to go for today and if I couldn't impress them with my work experience I'd sure as hell impress them with my punctuality. I went through the bend that led to the main road from our house.

The entire neighborhood was quiet. Too quiet. I checked the time 6:05 a.m. Lazy Nigerian Youths I said to myself they should be up and about by now sorting out their daily businesses, haven't they ever heard of that proverb my dad chants every morning when he wakes us up: something about the early bird and the worm. I've been hearing it my whole life but for some reason it refused to stick.

'Bike.'

'Okada.'

The bike man stopped in front of me.

'Adelaide District.'

I said looking away absentmindedly expecting him to demand an outrageous price I waited.

One second

Two seconds

Three seconds...

My eyebrows scrunched up in confusion and I looked towards the bike man wanting to know the cause for the pause, only to find his eyes roaming about my body.

My brain screamed "pervert alert" .

I clutched my bag tighter and search through my brain for anything I could remember in my bag that could be used as a weapon.

Powder box... no too circle-ish

My wallet... won't cause enough damage

My nail cutter... too small

My phone... I wouldn't dare it's my best friend

Oh I almost forgot my hair straightener. Thankfully I forgot it in my bag after my visit to the hair salon the other day. Oh well that would have to do for now.

That and my hidden superpower: my lungs.

I would scream his eardrum beyond repair if he made any untoward move towards me. Pun definitely intended.

Slowly I inched my right hand into my bag and held onto my hair straightener like a sword feeling like Ju Mung and ready to Brandish my weapon and charge into wa–.

'Your money na 100 naira.'

' what? '

'I say 100 naira.'

I had gotten a bit carried away with my war plans that I didn't hear him the first time. The price didn't seem outrageous so putting away my war agenda for the meantime I got on the bike.

It took me a lot to get this interview. The company is a well-known company in Abuja and a few people had to call in some favours to get me a shot at this, otherwise I didn't stand a chance.

The environment changed slowly as we ate up the distance from substandard to high class.

Finally we stopped.

I paid the bike man, eyeing him with evil eyes as if to say "try rubbish" he took the hint and went away peacefully, or so I thought. A few metres away he shouted

'Aunty you fine no be small o, I for like shift your womb.'

The stupid i***t, he's lucky he's not within arm's reach I would have shifted his brain.

'whoosh'

I let the annoyance out along with the breath I didn't know I was holding. I wasn't going to let a bike man ruin my day. Today. This day I've been planning and looking forward to for weeks. Not happening.

Looking up the sight I was met with was overwhelming. Never for the life of me did I imagine that I will work or even try to work in a place like this. Let me see...

What's the word...

Grand.

Yes that's the word.

For a law firm it looked rather stiff. Well what can I say. Lawyers are not particularly what you'd called flexible.

I entered into the building and I was met with the receptionist.

'Good morning, how may I help you' . She greeted me with a bright smile, though I knew as a master in the art myself that the smile was fake.

'Good morning I'm here for the interview' . I replied with an equally fake smile plastered on my face. I wasn't one to be beaten, especially not in my field of expertise.

'Alright if you would please go upstairs the first turn by your right then go... '

The receptionist gave descriptions to wherever in the building the interview was going to hold but I heard a voice. The texture of that voice could not be mistaken for another.

I zoned out the moment I heard that voice, that voice that held so many fond memories. Why did it sound so close now? The last time I was in the same breathing space as the owner of the voice we were at each other's throats so how and why did it sound so close so friendly and full of laughter? How dare he be happy.

Before I turned I knew what was coming but it didn't reduce the weight of its impact.

Kunle Adeyemo.