Sita
“A nice speech you got there.” He said behind me.
I was having the normal chitty-chatty thing with the ladies outside. They all seemed to be so obsessed with the fact that I got to move out of Abidjan and sit around the burnfire with them for what mattered most to the poor and not those in my class.
I spurned to meet him, the ladies were still there to pester me with their words, but I had to ignore them even without excusing them.
“Special Orthopedist.” My lips curled into a warm smile, a smile that had a connection with the depth of my heart, and with all those hormones that reacted when a woman saw the kind of man she would like to spend most of her nights with.
“Stilettos is what I should have called you, but I haven’t forgotten you asked me to call you Sita, the
