Sita
“We have a special ride for you, the jeep over there.” A staff of the charity house whispered in my ear while I edged to the buses loading the passengers.
I took off my sunglasses which I wore for fashion’s sake and not the sun itself, and spurned to her. She had the smile of a staff doing special personnel a favor, but that’s not why I came here, I came to be part and parcel of the outreach, not to come get some funny preferential treatment.
“Sorry, I prefer the buses,” I said, “I’ll be okay in there with the rest of us.”
“But you know you might not be comfortable there, and the best bus we shattered was reserved for the white doctors and the specialists who came for the outreach.” The lady said.
I looked around, and without having her point out the best of the buses
