“No matter how much you hide your pain, Your eyes will never falter to tell the stories your lips could never unravel”.
It rained all through the night yesterday. Olamide was coming back home from work after a long 14-hour shift in the scalding sun, hands clenched to his briefcases and recently-purchased storebought goods. The air was crisp. Laughter, banter exchanges and the peppering smells of suya wafted in the air, creating a chaotic yet electric atmosphere that mirrored most of evening-time in Lagos. Hawkers closing down their stalls on each and every corner of the street; little kids in nothing but underwear and tattered clothes, chasing each other down the street with sticks or toys in one hand, the incessant blaring of danfo bus drivers shouting the names of arrival bus stops with passengers squashed like sardines on a bumpy ride home.
The weather had mercy on his soft-brown skin today. Waking up at 6 am, he sat down in the dark living room teasing his cup of Rwandan coffee with the tip of his tongue while watching the sun waking up from its own slumber. Morning tea was usually hot, as Grace (the new maid) never got the temperature just right like Blessing did. He pardoned her error, amongst others, and forced himself to drink the flowery, fruity herbal mixture with a robust and sweet aftertaste as it cascaded down his throat.
Yesterday’s storms have ended, and tomorrow is a new awakening. Or so he tells himself.
The table in front of him is covered in heaps of balance sheets, financial statements, and pressing work emails. He shifts some of the documents away to make space for his phone, watching the papers dance on the way to the floor while some fall on the seat next to him. He picks up the phone and it’s Chineye (his assistant). With a cheeky grin and a quick eye-roll, he answers and puts her on loudspeaker; the world around him is silent and holds no other listeners.
After a few mumbles about business meetings and his immediate need in the office, he grunts, cuts the phone, and quickly scrambles through the mesh of paper to find the relevant documents for today’s tasks. On average, a bear could migrate to Canada from Antarctica faster than he could find 3 out of 10 documents he was looking for in a table that held the weight of more than 120. He wasn’t always this messy though, well, not…
