The Nigerian civil servant is a predictable kind. She has such set traits that it is a marvel that she
has escaped regular caricature in sketches.
She loves holidays. Every Fridays is a Jumat Holiday. She loves extended holidays. The days before
and after public holidays are appropriated. The streets would be so deserted even the atheist might
start to wonder if the rapture has occurred and she is the left-behind.

She always asks to use your pen. She shuffles in her cabinet and manages never to find your file. She
delights in multiple referrals that end at an empty desk and an advice to return the next day.

You wonder why she is always in a foul mood. You are the hardest part of her job. She was in the mood for conversation until you showed up. (Doctors are
generally polite though, asking basic, embarrassing questions with equanimity and recommending an HIV test with euphemisms that soothe the nerves―nurses
have no goodwill to dispense.)
Snacking and making conversations in native language are regular pastimes. Considering how over-staffed these offices are rumoured to be, everyone would likely
find a kinsman.

She hates to be challenged. ‘You want to teach me my job’ is not a cliché but her reaction to any form of confrontation or allusion to her incompetence. She may
be witty when incensed.

Once at the post office, to your plea to be attended to fast, you were told: ‘as you can see, I am not sitting’. Really, she was standing, chatting. A man hesitating
to write his address on a mail was told ‘write it abeg, I will not come to visit you.’When mistreated, do not seek the sympathy from her colleague; their solidarity is
legendary..
She values her power nap and does not respond kindly to enquiries when interrupted. The scene at one of the city’s public libraries illustrates Fela’s ‘Trouble
Sleep, Yanga Go Wake Am’.

You asked the receptionist, a middle-aged woman, if she could let you inspect the facility before registering. Your request was met with a scowl that implied, I am
not here to serve you. Well, you insisted. After Jacob was short-changed in his first marital indenture, it became imperative to unveil, to check, probe, test, analyse
the merchandise one last time before purchase.
Sadly, it was one of such situations that solidified the argument against the credibility of religious texts. While Jacob eventually got his Rachael, you got a reject,
because it was against the organisation’s policy. She began to hum. You had been dismissed.

You remained. You were ready to exact your revenge for all the ills you had suffered in public offices. Ignoring the likely consequences, you told her she would
benefit from a stint at a charm school. Mutual defiance soon transited to crass tiff, the kind that if not checked would descend to the level of one asking the other
if the ill humour was a result of catching her spouse with another.
You were locked in stare down until your eyes began to smart. Then you had a brain-wave: you would not register unless she allowed you survey the place. Your
smart idea did not resonate with her immediately. You watched as she tried to figure the import of your threat to the situation. Her face, contorted in confusion,
relaxed upon comprehension. She snorted and asked how that was her business. ‘If you no register them no go pay me salary?’
It is hard to beat a woman in her territory. You conceded. You paid the required fee, muttering as you filled the registration form, ‘evil service, evil servant’.

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The entire system is rotten. Very annoying the way no body ever wants to do d right thing yet always first calls God's name, which u forgot to add- they are more catholic than d pope.