Time is always of the essence. I hurriedly dressed for work, prior to that, I put water for tea on the fire, calls upon calls, the ones I could use to baptize myself and others. I rushed to the kitchen, turned the hot water, mixed Milo and milk and closed my eyes to rush the tea, damn cold water, my hurry made me skip to lit the gas.
That day as I rushed to work hungry and angry with myself for being less cautious, my stomach cried it’s way to the office, at the office I was sent to a far away local government.
I reached and executed my orders, went to a hut that was pointed as the best restaurant around for a sumptuous meal, the rice was beautiful, I ordered pepper to swallow for my taste bud failed me, or the chef was terrible, I swallowed the rice like eba, the sands of time infested the rice and beans I ate.
On my way back to Jos, my stomach protested to bring out the food, “no o, you must stay down” my stomach failed to respect my protest, I moved from one side of the seat to the other, pressed with no sign of a decent rest room, I endured, a little tears escaped, it wasn’t me crying o, it was an over accumulated tears, I mean we shed weight all the time why not tears.
Till date my office rest room doesn’t respect me. I now heat water and keep in a flask, buy my lunch from Jos to anywhere, it’s not like I don’t trust your local government or state, but the last time I stopped at Kaduna to eat, Abuja suffered.
By Randa Bencyril