Today I wore this soft, nice, long-sleeved shirt – all my clothes were soft – the shirt, the trousers, the shoes and then I went out. As I stepped out, the first thing I thought was “such nice weather today, what a beautiful day”. I thought I’d be going straight to the schools but when I remembered that I have to first go print out my resume, I was a bit taken aback and prepared my mind for a longish trek. “Still beautiful weather though” I submitted as I marched uphill with determination and fuzzy feeling prospects.
Didn’t exactly expect the cyber café to be this far but it’s okay though, as long as I get to print this on time. It was about 12pm; the schools close at 4 but I thought a job application is the kind of thing you do in the morning, Monday morning to be precise. Not rushing in on a Tuesday afternoon like an unserious applicant who thinks such will be overlooked because he is a 200L college student in this very novel and ambitious enterprise* of applying to be a teacher while still in university. Also, he’ll be willing to take half, or even quarter pay; if worse comes to worst, he’ll do it for free. So I was in a small hurry, feeling a little irresponsible but oh well, just read what I was offering in the past two sentences. “Their no will be no” I shrugged; I may be applying at an unideal time of day, but that’s a rare offer it you ask me.
I walk up a tight staircase and through a narrow corridor to find myself standing in front of this dusty printer. The atmosphere reminds me of one of those Wild West comic scenes when the actor shows up at the far edge of a desert landscape. His face is partly concealed behind a cowboy hat, puffs of wind swirl in front of the façade. His fingers poised, twitching beside the crook of his pistol…
Anyway, I take a step into the shop, careful, for I could make a loud echo in the vacant air, and call out
A lady’s head peeks from behind the desk. I’m not surprised, it is not unusual for shopkeepers to lie down and rest on a mat. Sort of thing I was expecting from the welcome of that printer. (I think such large volume printers should be painted black, not white). The printer kind of sets the mood for the shop – like it works but not quite. It’s the economy, slow times for a cyber café. There’s a lot of goings on about her telling me she can print in color and then printing in black and white, black dots sprayed on the page. When I frown at it, she feigns surprise and says “But color printing is costly!”. Costly. For a moment I’m stunned, then I reason no one prints in color here, your employer will understand. I pay and go out in search of another cyber café.
Since the place was closed, I turned around to go to Canaan Glory. “Let me at least submit this one resume that I have then go and print other ones” I thought.As I walked back up and down the hill, I thought of a bottle of cold water brought out of the fridge and laid on a table for some time, I visualized the fervent droplets of water that form on the outside, how they break off and trickle down, how the whole body of the bottle is saturated with dampness. “Well that bottle must feel like me right now” I thought as my brain told me of the drippingsweat that had formed on my body, my back, arms and chest.
Thanks for reading! If you liked it, do say so in the comments. If I get enough requests, I’ll post a part 2 next week.
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Talk to you soon everyone!
*here in Nigeria, it is unusual for one to apply for a teaching job before graduating from university.