#SURVIVORSepisodeA
(c) S.O. Joseph
(c) JOS Literatures
All rights reserved

EPILOGUE

"… NASA further explained, that these creatures feed on the traces of emitted carbon that had escaped to the far space and warns that it could mean a great threat to earth and its occupants in the nearest future.…Racia Smith, reporting from Washington D.C"

The voice suddenly paused for some seconds and continued as a song.


EPISODE ONE

Mrs. Walker had to screw up her eyes against the glare; the glittering golden kitchen knife in her hand had been mirror-angled to the dazzling light of the pale orange morning sun that had mischievously found its way into the mild light-up room, and it was ten seconds later before she could see clearly.

She then swifted a quick glance at the wall clock and yelled in her mind, sweet Jesus! Quarter past eight already!


With a single stroke of the knife, she crack-opened the egg in her hand and emptied its content into the Borosil glass mixing bowl resting on the glass cabinet in front of her and began to stir.

The kitchen had a perimeter twice the size of two standard rooms, and was furnished by Snaidero - a leading kitchen manufacturer in Europe.

Mrs. Walker was still mixing spices to the mixed-up glair and yolk in the bowl when a beeping sound came hooting from the toasting machine beside her – indicating that the bread inside it 'd been fully toasted. She remembered she'd need to scrape off the brownish part of the loafs; Amanda disliked brown breads. The smoke bellowing from the oil in the frying pan would become profuse and poke the snoozing smoke detector if nothing is added to it ASAP. Mrs. Walker whirled around the kitchen like a professional cook, trying to stay in control of things, else things would get messy.


She'd to change Amanda's usual breakfast, else the little one would be late for school - I mean, more than she was already.

Scrambled eggs, stir-fried Zucchini and sausage had been Amanda’s favorite for breakfast, but not today. If only hear husband - Mr. Walker was around, he'd have been useful in convincing Amanda to accepting her accidental breakfast. But then, he'd left the house since five in the morning for a business trip, making Mrs. Walker a married single once again. And even though she was used to it - having him away, she couldn't get used to his cold heart. She kept blaming herself for ending up with such a cruel man... Merit Walker; a renowned business tyrant, who took business above every other thing in life.

"Amanda!”

It was Mrs. Walker calling out from the kitchen. She was now ready to pet and scold her only child to a compromise.

“Breakfast is ready, honey!”she shouted.“Come on down here, we ain’t got time!”

Still, there was no answer.

"Sweetheart, you'd better come of your own accord. Mommie is in a hurry and has no time for your hide and seek this morning!” Mrs. Walker shouted again and started for the upper floor of the mansion.

Two things used to keep Amanda from Mommies call: one was cartoon network and the other, when she wanted to be playful. But Mrs. Walker wasn’t in the mood for neither. All she wanted at the moment was - not to waste more time in the house.


She'd definitely get harsh voices at the office and a long sheet of questionnaire from Mrs. Broklin – Amanda’s class teacher.

The words of Mrs. Broklin started groaning in her ears like the sound of a snarling dog; she was advising Mrs. Walker to take a nanny for Amanda and enroll her for a school bus. Mrs. Walker's face tightened a little to the thought. She would tell Mrs. Broklin to start keeping her opinion to herself this time, if she brings up the topic again.

As far as Mrs. Walker was concerned, Amanda was her world; her only responsibility and was ready to trade anything for her baby’s attention, even her job.

Mrs. Walker stamped over to the sitting room to show her daughter how sober she was. As she got closer, she could hear low-pitched yell, coming from the television set.

Yeah, right, Mrs. Walker smirked at her own thoughts. she's onto cartoons as predicted.

"Hey baby! Didn't you hear…”Mrs. Walker had barely
completed the statement when her eyes stumbled onto her seven year old daughter, sitting curled up in a foetal position in front of the TV, watching a violent scene; where a white man was beating up a black woman in a domestic violence.

“Mommie, look!" Amanda pointed to the TV screen. “He's hurting her. It’s not fair", Amanda grunted and poked out her pink little lower lip.

“Yes baby, it’s not moral", Mrs. Walker said, as she switched off the TV and took Amanda’s school
bag.“C'mon lets go, you’re late for school already. Breakfast is down stairs.”

Half way down the stairs, Amanda suddenly stopped; she whirled around to face Mrs. Walker and asked,“Is Dad not moral to you, Mommie?”

Mrs. Walker, who had stopped also, squatted to equal her face with Amanda's and said, “Aye, how about you leave all your questions till evening, hon?"
She placed her right hand on Amanda’s left shoulder and continued, "then you can
interview me all you wanna. But only in the evening, sweetheart."

Mrs. Walker had used the wisdom to avoid another possible question, such as: "Mommie, why am I eating toast bread for breakfast?
"

“You promise, Mommie?” Amanda asked in a most adoring voice.

“ Cross my heart, Pompkin", Mrs.
Walker said, amidst smiles and with her right hand placed across the pink tie running down her white collard shirt, that was embraced by an ash Italian blazers.

A contented smile surged out of Amanda’s face, not because of her mother’s demonstration, but because of 'Pompkin' – her pet-name; a name which meant nothing but somehow conveyed an impression of beauty.

Amanda was only four the last time the black and white couple careless went physical in her presence. Somehow, the ugly scene still rankled in her memory. Mrs. Walker was sure right about that. Amanda had been taking note of their frequent exchange of harsh voices ever since.

One of Amanda’s teachers had summoned Mrs. Walker a couple of times over Amanda’s inquisitiveness on domestic violence. It’d been
embarrassing and awkward for Mrs. Walker all the way.

The last straw was Walker’s grubby affair with a white woman in Las Vegas - the reason for his timeless
business trips to the beachy city, as stated by Mrs. Walker’s spy.

Amanda ate her breakfast slowly and not looking up from the plate as she ate. Her eyes would glow less brighter whenever she'd to do something just to please her mother.

When Mrs. Walker walked out of her room, looking all ready to go, her daughter was looking otherwise.

“Baby, don’t do this to me... please hurry up and let’s go,” Mrs. Walker said, as she took Amanda’s lunch-box and headed for the main entrance door. Amanda trudged behind behind her.

"Mommie, I don’t wanna go to school today,”Amanda said with an appealing stare from her little grey eyes, then she suddenly halted and folded her hands.

A deep sense of despair took over Mrs. Walker. She became stunned by Amanda’s utterance.

Though she dreaded denying her daughter anything, especially when she had that looks, she
wouldn’t condole any attempt of her skipping school.

"A better try next time, Pompkin," Mrs. Walker almost murmured aloud.

“Oh baby! We don’t have to go through this again. I told you beautiful girls don’t skip school. Don’t you wanna be a Lawyer anymore?"

“I wanna, Mommie."

"Then unfold your hands and let’s go.”

As they walked on, Mrs. Walker began to think of societal influence as the major factor behind Amanda’s sudden negative attitude towards her
education, but she wouldn’t allow the play-out.

One thing she feared most was her daughter becoming a factory fodder as the uneducated blacks in her society - a society dominated by educated whites.

Mrs. Walker thought it was high time she gave her daughter a better upbringing. Hence, the need to dissolve the union that had kept her in Philadelphia.

Last night, she'd quietly discussed divorce with Mr. Walker and even threatened to serve him the papers as soon as he returns from his trip. But he was however reticent about the issue; so self-centred as he used to be.

When they got to the garage, The car was no where to be found; Walker
had switched it for his.

“Where's your car Mommie?” Amanda asked.

“We’re going on this Ferrari, since your Dad took it”

“But Mommie, Dad don’t let you drive his car”

“Maybe not today… see? He left the key behind,” Mrs. Walker said, pointing to the key in the power steering through the window,“Meaning he Wants us to take a ride in it!"

Amanda instinctively knew that something was wrong with the day, but didn’t know how best to express
it, being a kid that she was.

Mrs. Walker entered the car and opened the passenger door from inside. Amanda reluctantly hopped in and belted up with a straight face.

“This car moves very fast - just the kind of ride we need now, Pompkin." Mrs. Walker said, smiling.

As she reversed swiftly out of the garage, and into the street, little did she know they were on a swift ride to
doom....


I need likes, comments and shares to unlock next episode.

Continue the story, once you start uploading and people love it, you don't have to worry about the likes

Lemme invite some people
Evajael, Kimberlywest, centino, jagugu8li, fazemood, Eyinimofeoluwa, creeza(been long tho, where have you been?) pinkfeet

Smooth start, I like that.

queenitee:
Lemme invite some people
Evajael, Kimberlywest, centino, jagugu8li, fazemood, Eyinimofeoluwa, creeza(been long tho, where have you been?) pinkfeet

Thanks queenitee for the invite. You read alot, I like that

queenitee:
Continue the story, once you start uploading and people love it, you don't have to worry about the likes

okay

Fazemood:
Smooth start, I like that.

thanks, man.

I will be modifying from time to time to make it smoother. My editor is not around. I will be doing a lot by myself, till he returns.

queenitee:
Lemme invite some people
Evajael, Kimberlywest, centino, jagugu8li, fazemood, Eyinimofeoluwa, creeza(been long tho, where have you been?) pinkfeet

Thanks for the invite dear.

queenitee:
Lemme invite some people
Evajael, Kimberlywest, centino, jagugu8li, fazemood, Eyinimofeoluwa, creeza(been long tho, where have you been?) pinkfeet

thanks for mention . book front seat for me


hmmmmm. hope there will be pop-corn shaaaa .

Queenitee; Please don't forget to add my name on ur roll call list. Nice story, with a succulent start. Don't mind jare, keep the good work up.

Nice one OP

Icebreeze:
Queenitee; Please don't forget to add my name on ur roll call list.
Nice story, with a succulent start. Don't mind jare, keep the good work up.

Kosi problem, Oya welcome




Icebreeze, icebreeze, icebreeze, icebreeze. It aff entered brain.

Pinkfeet:


thanks for mention . book front seat for me


hmmmmm. hope there will be pop-corn shaaaa .

Plenty popcorn, Sha have your seat first

KimberlyWest:


Thanks for the invite dear.

Kisses

queenitee:
Plenty popcorn, Sha have your seat first

okay

Fazemood:

Thanks queenitee for the invite. You read alot, I like that

#winks. You must read in Nigeria to brighten your mood, before this country turns you to something else

queenitee:
Kosi problem, Oya welcome



Icebreeze, icebreeze, icebreeze, icebreeze. It aff entered brain.

Smiles.

Skubido
Izaray
Purity23

Oya Come ooooo

Ann2012:
Skubido Izaray Purity23
Oya Come ooooo

i don land

nice 1

queenitee:


#winks. You must read in Nigeria to brighten your mood, before this country turns you to something else

Yeah, You are correct dear, reading is a sure way to avoid mental slavery in this country

episode two loading....

let me pitch my tent here...

queenitee and ann2012, thanks for inviting your fweends.

others should please invite their fwends too coz eh - all these comments dey toast my brain. it makes me feel good. you may not understand.

now let's make this thread an interesting one.... I shall be asking questions regarding the story and you guys will be doing the answering.... just wanna be sure you guys are catching on, coz the book has some hidden meanings. I have refused to spoonfeed my readers. you have to think to unveil some hidden facts else, u won't get the best of the book.

. . I didn't judge any character....I left them for the readers to judge.


questions for episode One
1. What is NASA?
2. What is the voice in the epilogue?
3. What is an epilogue?
4. What creatures was the voice in the epilogue referring to?
5. What could have happened to Mrs. Walkers breaks?
6. What do you think is Mrs. Walker's fate?
7. The golden knife signifies what?

pls make you guys answer make I post episode two

EPISODE TWO

It' would be a fifteen minutes drive to Amanda’s school, if the T-junction after Clinton . J tunnel wasn't there at all - the traffic there could be so frustrating during rush hours.

Mrs. Walker was running at 80Km/h - her maximum speed when having her kid on board. But unlike her car,
this one ran faster.

How come I never drove this 'Sailfish' all this while? She thought to herself, smiled and adjusted her sitting position.
She'd no worries about her breaks until she began to call on them unanswered, as she approached the T-junction. They cold heatedly betrayed her; it was like they were never there. Her heart began to skip; she couldn’t think straight anymore, but the car kept moving straight.

Fortune smiled on her, when at the Junction there was a free flow of traffic. And even though she'd disobeyed the traffic lights, she could still
escape collision with the vehicles moving adjacent her direction.

But the luck vanished as they approached a C-curve. It’d be totally impossible for her to escape skidding off her lane at that speed. And if she does, the truck stampeding closely behind her like an angry Buffalo would definitely give her a 'Zainedine Zidane heading'.

In her bewilderment, she prayed to God to save her daughter, as she anticipated her impending ruination. She gazed at Amanda and saw that she was already agitated. It was like she could see the loom ahead of them. Mrs. Walker asked her to take to the back seat and belt up and she obeyed at once.

The three-lane road became a narrow footpath as they got to the bent. The only alternative in Mrs. Waller's head right now was to swerve into the woodland forest on her left, and that was what she did.

Ferrari could be so unstoppable when in
motion. Amanda's eye wild with terror as she kept on screaming behind her mother.

Mrs. Walker held tight to the wheel, dodging collision with trees and shrubs. But soon, a collision became her conclusion when she sighted the edge of the cliff. And it took a tree some cracks in the belly to put the car to a stop.

The impulse of the collision sent the birds on the tree branches away. At this, there was a brooding silence at the scene, but for the whirring of the car engine. A keen listener would hear the sound of liquid plopping onto the ground.

Amanda crept out of the crushed car through an opening that just measured her size in the wrecked back door, shaking with fear. She staggered back and forth many times until she regained her stability. Then she walked to the driver's side and found her mother leaning motionlessly, with her forehead against the steering wheel.

“Mom!" Amanda muttered.
Mrs. Walker remained mute.

“Mommie!!!” Amanda cried out in fright.

Mrs. Walker heavily raised her head from the busted airbag and rested it on the headrest. Chattered glasses ran off her shoulder-length hair when she moved her broken neck in an attempt to face Amanda.

As she lifted her heavy eyelid to see her daughter, she reminisced her last conversation with Mr. Walker,… a divorce,
huh? How about something much more, NK?

She knew he was up to something whenever he called her by her native name, but didn't take it seriously.

Through ice-cold eyes, Mrs. Walker could see her daughter looking all good, but wished she could confirm it by touching her.

“Are… are you ok, Pompkin?” Mrs. Walker spluttered with a crooked smile.

“Yes, Mommie”, Amanda answered in between sniffs and griefs

Tears sprang onto Mrs. Walker’s eyes as the dreaded moment came shrieking at her. It was the most agonizing moment in her life – that moment when death became a sweet savour.

After one more attempt to touch her little angel, she gave up. Her hand had become a log of wood. She
could feel them any longer, but could feel a stream of blood navigating her internal cavities. There was no point saying she was in pain.

“Mommie, are you okay? You’re bleeding!” Amanda cried out loud, as she now had a full observation of
her mother's bloody face.

Even thought Mrs. Walker had much to say to Amanda, she could only mutter a few before her voice faded completely.

There was a look of silent appeal from Mrs. Walker to her daughter before her vision blackened completely and her heart stopped rebeating.

Amanda thought Mommie was just resting with her unblinking red eyes widely opened. She looked around for some help but found no one - nothing except a little wooden house that had its rusted roofs peeping in between tree branches from about one kilometer away.

Amanda had seen a wooden house before on TV, so she started for it. As she got a little closer to the isolated structure, she began to hear some sort of grunting - like the sound of a pig grazing nearby in dirt.

With curiosity, Amanda parted the giant grasses in front of her to see through.

A creature was busy eating the pinkish-white mucor inside the skull of a lifeless woman with its elongated mouth part. The flesh in her chest was so ripped off that it was only with her outfit that one could tell she was a woman.

The grasses around the scene weren't so much brushed off, indicating that the creature gave no much chance or no chance at all to the woman to fight for her life.

Amanda’s eyes poked out in horror – she couldn’t withstand the scene, talk more of comprehending the real structure of the creature. But she was sure the creature was of same body size as Morphine; her dog. And it looked like it was only a baby of its kind.

Amanda caught the real jitters when she discovered that the creature had an eye located at the back of its oblong head, and had been looking at her ever since with it.

Nothing would hold her back from screaming right now, no one was there to give it a shot, and so she let out that loud scream at the top of her lungs.

"aaaaaaaahhhhh!!!!!!!!!"

Nice piece, keep the smart work up.


I pity the poor girl in the wood Amanda.

queenitee:
Lemme invite some people
Evajael, Kimberlywest, centino, jagugu8li, fazemood, Eyinimofeoluwa, creeza(been long tho, where have you been?) pinkfeet

Present my queen.

WOW! Next Episode pls

Fazemood:
WOW! Next Episode pls

soon, bro. thanks pls invite people

EPISODE THREE

The creature, all at once turned around to face Amanda, then turned back to what it was eating: it’s either the ‘meal’ was too delicious to be abandoned or Amanda seemed to posses no threat at all.

Before the spelling of E R I C, Amanda found her legs and took off, screaming until she ran into three gunmen some metres away in the savannah part of the woods.

The two dead full-grown
gorillas in front of the men had so much taken their attention, that they couldn’t notice Amanda’s presence at first as they murmured among themselves.

"...looks like it just f**ing happened"

"yea...the bodies are still looking fresh"

“Whatever had killed these apes and cracked their skulls opened like a tropical coconut, without giving
them a hoot to fight back must be very strong and big and still much around.”

“Hey kid!" the youngest of the men called out, when he noticed they had a company. "What’re you doing out here all by yourself? Who're you with?" he asked as he noticed the whiplashes on Amanda’s arms and legs.

Amanda pointed to the direction, where she’d come from with trembling fingers, and with waggling eyes.

“it’s okay kid, come here,” the youngest man said.

He lowered his gun and squatted to receive Amanda, who was moving slowly towards him, and still looking back.

“What did you see?”

Amanda was about to say something; the men gave her their eyes - they knew she'd seen something and could tell she was a school girl with that bag hanging on her back.

“Mor...mor, monkey”Amanda spluttered, as soon as she could open her mouth to speak.

“Monkey!” the youngest man rephrased

“No, d… dog”Amanda stammered

“Dog!” the older man yelled at Amanda and retracted his gaze from her and dashed it out to the trees around.

“Mommie!” Amanda mumbled, turned around and pointed another direction.

“What da f**k’s this kid saying?” the older man butted in a yell, and started moving closer to Amanda.

“Take it easy, Sam! She’s only a kid . Can't you see she’s traumatized, huh?”the youngest man yelled back at the older man, as Amanda was now fully in his arms.

Just then, a grunting sound started coming from the nearby wood.

Amanda whirled away from the man, whose arms she'd found solace and took to her heels, leaving the three men behind.

“ Hey kid, come back!” The youngest man shouted.“What the hell is in the woods?” he asked, peering into his colleagues eyes.

The oldest of them answered with dazzling eyes, "Maybe a boar!”

He took up his gun, which had been laid propped against a nearby tree and cocked it.

“Come to Daddy, Boar!” the older man said with a brooding smile, as he cocked his H & R Handy rifle
and aimed at the seeming direction, where the horrible sound was coming from.

“This boar fu**ing stinks more than these fu**ing apes." the older man wrinkled his nose and spat on the ground.

" I don’t know that smell,
son,” the oldest man said, “I truly don’t know what’s coming our way!”


Twenty years later....



stay tuned for episode four!

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catch ya!

EPISODE FOUR
...Twenty years later
(Lagos, Nigeria)

Jemeh arrived for an interview at the headquarters of Merit Plc in Lagos Island at about five- past eight
in the morning. He gave the skyscraper a blank stare before walking into the yard. The middle-aged guard, mounting the front side entrance of the building gave him directions to the reception, and after a
security clearance, he joined the elevator to the tenth floor without showing it was his first time on a lift.

On getting to the reception room, he uttered no word as he walked past some applicants until he got an empty seat at the extreme right corner of the square room, and after a little hesitation, he sat down.

The receptionist kept apologizing every now and then for the delay in commencement, reassuring the applicants that the interview would hold and would be according to
their punctuality.

"This will mean a long wait!" Jemeh groaned, as he mentally counted the number of applicants he'd met
in the room. And in spite of arriving twenty minutes earlier, he was in the twenty-fifth position. He passed the document bag resting on his thigh to the three- seaters stainless-steel armchair next to the one he was sitting in, and adjusted to a more comfortable position.

The reception room of the company was superb - quiet unlike the reception of other companies he'd visited. The silver colour of the walls of the room were beautified with flamboyant framed pictures, award plagues and flowers. An LED TV hung in between the pictures of the state governor and the
country’s president.
Another frame showed the image
of the company’s CEO, who looked neither young nor black.
There was a poster showing the different products by the company. Jemeh looked around him and nodded in silent approval.

Some minutes later, he was lost in thoughts, oblivious of the muttering going on around him. It was
becoming increasingly difficult for him, especially when he was alone to keep his mind off his predicaments.

As he sat there, his mind flew deep into his past - a past full of failures that still rankled.
He remembered clearly all the fruitless interviews he'd had in the past; interviews from local and international companies, and the one he'd at the American Embassy, when he won a lottery. It was then he realized that personal data inconsistency could rob a winner of the fortune.

He remembered also the prophet his friend had advised him to approach for spiritual cleansing. The
man had attributed his bad lucks to the enemies from his father’s house.

“But why are they against me, Sir?” Jemeh had asked the prophet
.

“Because you are a star, my son,”the prophet told Jemeh. “Life is full of darkness and wickedness...hmmm!" he said and whirled his thick long dread to the back dramatically and rang the big bronze bell in his hand.

“Can’t anything be done about it, Sir?”

“There is nothing impossible before Jah, Hmmm! I’ll have to cleanse you in a river – the river that will carry
away all the enchantment of the wicked ones in your life.”

At first, Jemeh’s nonchalant attitude towards spirituality couldn't be reconciled with the prophet’s ways, but for his strong desire to overcome his problem he complied. After applying for some jobs that still didn’t turn out well, he concluded that the exercise was in vain.
But then, there was this prophecy the prophet had earlier pointed to Jemeh, saying, Jemeh's purpose of existence
depended on his death.

Jemeh was quick to wave the paradox, since the prophet had refused to explain the meaning.

It was at this time when Jemeh was at the nadir of his hopes, that he heard of the mass recruitment of
workers going on in Merit Plc.
At first, he was skeptical about the job as his optimism had been washed
away by the number of fruitless jobs he'd applied for in the past.

“Hello everyone!” the receptionist craved the indulgence of the applicants, breaking into Jemeh’s
thoughts and bringing him back to the present. She was now standing at the center of the room.
“The interview will begin in five minutes,” she stole a glance at her Cartier Ballon Bleu small model wrist watch and continued. “You’re to
go into the conference room over there according to your punctuality,” she said, pointing to a silver-
plated door in the far-end of the floor.
She checked her wrist watch again and said, “Alright, the first person should get ready. Thank you!” She let out a broad grin and walked back to her desk.

Perhaps, this could be part of the interview, who knows? Jemeh thought.

A few minutes later, an applicant walked into the conference room, she was there for about twenty minutes and when she
came out, another applicant entered. It went in that routine until Jemeh wash sure of his turn.

The conference room was quiet spacious with an air of pride; Jemeh's eyes took in everything in the room in a blink. It'd a wide spherical glittering ceramic table, surrounded by twelve luxurious swivel chairs.

The interviewers; Mr. Anderson, Mr. Niyi and Mrs. Efiong sat next to each other in a section of the table.
Jemeh who had walked in, exuding self-confidence sank into one of the swivel chairs opposite the interviewers, as he greeted and was motioned to the seat by the only woman in the room, without her raising her head from the file in her front.

Finally, someone broke the silence.

“Yes, young man, what is your nomenclature?” Niyi inquired, putting aside the file he'd been lost in.
He always address men as‘young man’ even when strands of grey hair that had mischievously escaped the hair-dye unveild the truth.

“Jemeh Dania, sir" Jemeh answered.

"Jemeh Dania, Jemeh Da..." Niyi repeated again and again until he was able to fish out a file having a blend of those names
from the heap of files beside him.

Why just sorting applicants files? Jemeh wondered. Well, that's their cup of kunu, he shrugged his shoulders gently and focused on the interviewers.

“Are you sure you were petitioned for this interview, Young man?” Niyi asked as he was flipping through
the pages of Jemeh's file.

“yes, Sir” Jemeh answered with lifted eyebrows

"Then there must be misapprehension somewhere,” Niyi protested.

Niyi was the Human Resource Manger. He was one of those that believed not in nearness, but perfection and had been responsible for the dismissal of many 'incapable' workers in time – past.

“But sir, I received an SMS, inviting me for this interview,” Jemeh unleashed a faint sigh.

“Exactly! That’s what I’m trying to tell you – the SMS you received from us is a product of an aberration."

Jemeh maintained a professional demeanor. He knew just what Niyi was driving at; the company had clearly stated in the corner of the National dailies page, their requirements for the job. But he'd doggedly forwarded his application - despite not being qualified for it. And by the time the invitation text got to him, he only saw it as good luck.


Mrs. Efiong and Anderson remained reticent as they watched Niyi with their facial expression howling lack of interest.

“Listen, you’re not capacitated for our offers, okay? This interview is basically meant for Bsc. and HND holders, and in the discipline of Marketing and Accounting, but your credentials says otherwise – you're just an Ordinary National Diploma holder and in Agric. Engineering. Can you now see the absurdity of your situation, young man?”

"nase! Lemme have his file, please.” Anderson butted-in to salvage the situation.“He
said he was sent a text just like others, right? And his file is here, so?”
he shrugged

Anderson continued to glance through the pages of Jemeh's file, with his grey eye balls, waggling behind the lens of his glasses. He became attracted by the perfect penmanship and structure of Jemeh’s handwritten letter. Jemeh noticed through his lit-up face.

He also noticed his features: his radiating light skin complexion, his pointed nose, his accent, his hair texture; and his general composure; and drew a conclusion that the man must be a half-cast or at least not born and bred in Nigeria.

“Please go on with the interview." Said Anderson after a little more check on Jemeh's credentials.

Niyi swallowed the lump in his throat and started, “Mr. Jemeh, could you highlight six products from this company?"


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episode five loading....