I've had this idea for a story rattling around in my head for a while, and now that I've found a bit of spare time, I've decided to put it down in bits and bytes. I intend to freewheel with this for as long as three conditions are met:

1. I'm still interested in carrying on;

2. You're still interested in me carrying on;

3. The Admin is still interested in me carrying on (very important, as it negates 1 and 2).

But this isn't a spectator sport, if at any stage of the story, you feel it's going awry, feel free to jump in with your own suggestions as to how it should go. Heck - if I like your suggestion, I'll incorporate it into the story!

Oh, before I start, a word about the title. The spelling of 'Khronikles' is really that - 'Khronikles' - not 'Chronicles', as some of the more literate of you might think.

OK, without further ado, let's get going!



(It is night. Or evening. Or even day – it is hard to tell, because all is darkness. A few creaks here, a rustle there, an indeterminate noise that could be anything – but all we can hear is the sound of silence.

Then what's this? the faint sound of jangling keys coming from where? Outside a room, outside this room of darkness. The jangling stops, and the sound of a key being inserted into a lock follows. The key rattles around in the lock for a while, and then there is a brief silence, followed by indistinct muttering. After another brief silence, the key rattles again, louder, longer, angrier and more insistent than before.

There is just the briefest of silences before we are startled by an angry shout, followed by a much more audible volley of cursing. The key plunges back in the lock again, and this time the rattling takes place to a background sound of a door violently shaking on its hinges. The rattling and shaking builds up to a crescendo and suddenly the door flies open and slams against a wall. An angry dishevelled young man storms in and narrowly manages to avoid hitting the door ricocheting off the wall. He flicks on the light, stomps his way to the middle of the room and stands there, heaving and sweating. Then he starts shouting again.)

Angry Man: Bloody lock! I've been telling this stupid landlord to change the thing for several months now. Either he wants me to be locked out so that he can replace me with a tenant that will bow to his exploitative whims, or he wants me to be locked in until I bow to his exploitative whims! Well, I'll show him – the next time he comes round asking for his rent, I will tell him to wait in here while I go and buy some refreshment for him for him. Then I will lock the door from outside and make a show of not being able to open it. That will teach him!

(The man starts cackling with high-pitched laughter, but suddenly stops and glances this way and that as though searching out for hidden spies. Then he starts up again.)

I don't know why the world is so full of all these big men trying to make my life difficult. Look at Mr. Sanusi for example. Every time when I'm having a short rest in between periods of working my behind off trying to keep his miserable company afloat, he always chooses that particular time to appear and start preaching his useless sermons. Sermons like (mimics Mr. Sanusi's voice) "I Worked Ninety Six Hours Every Week To Make This Company What It Is Today" or "I Cannot Afford To Keep Deadwood In This Company" or "An Employee Sleeping During Work Hours Portrays The Company In A Bad Light". (Chuckles to himself, and then gets angry once more.)

The fool doesn't even know that I'm doing him a favour – a man with my talents and abilities could easily get work elsewhere. Just like that! (Snaps fingers.) I don't even know why I'm still with him. In fact, I must start looking for a new job tomorrow. Yes, when I get my new job, I won't even tell him. I will just stroll into the office at any old hour, and if he asks me a stupid question like "Why are you coming in at 12 noon?" I will tell him "Because I feel like it". (Smiles to himself.) Yes, I'll go over to his desk, push him out of his chair, sit in it and put my legs on his table.

I'm sure the power-drunk fool will want to start some bluster about "gross misconduct" and "disciplinary procedure", but I won't even give him the chance. I'll just get up, poke my finger in his face and tell him "Sanusi, I'm tired of having to put up with your mediocrity, your idiocy and your pomposity. I QUIT!" And I'll stroll out, leaving him gaping in disbelief. Oh yeah!

But why am I even wasting my time on him? After all, I'm NOT at work now. Just because he thinks he owns my body does not mean that he must own my mind. Talking about my body, wow – I'm hungry o! Thank God my darling Julie has left some food for me in the fridge. Ah – Julie and her fantastic, delicious vegetable stew.

(Our angry young man licks his lips, and his stomach rumbles in agreement. Then he goes over to a fridge by a corner, opens it and peers inside. Then he gives a shout of anger.)

What Where is the food that was here when I left this morning? The fufu I was going to eat, and Julie's vegetable stew. All gone! (Screams.) Gone!! (Paces up and down, then scratches his head.) Only one person could have done this, I'm going to make sure he sees the redness of my eyes today. (He fidgets in his pocket and brings out a mobile phone and dials a number.) Hello? Is this Tamuno?

Tamuno (to the sounds of noisy traffic): Niyi! Ah, how're you doing?

Niyi: Don't "how're you doing" me there, you hear? I don't even know how you have the mouth to talk after what you've done.

Tamuno: Done? What have I done? I don't know what you're talking about.

Niyi: Eh? Even after you've done the deed, you are still pretending! Kai! Talk of adding insult to injury.

Tamuno (patiently): Adeniyi, if you could just begin by telling me what I am supposed to have done, then we can get this matter resolved – if not for my sake, then for the sake of your mobile phone airtime.

Niyi: Look – don't try and distract me by talking about my mobile phone airtime! That's a classic tactic of someone with a guilty conscience.

Tamuno (with his patience wearing thin): Look, I'm getting fed up of your drama! In case you don't know, you've called me in while I'm trying to catch a bus to get home, and this is NOT the best time to be dealing with your paranoia. So either you tell me what has got you upset, or I hang up.

Niyi: Oh yes, I'll wait till you get home – then you can explain how my food inside the fridge has suddenly disappeared.

(There is a long silence at the other end. Then Tamuno speaks.)

Tamuno: I cannot believe my ears. (laughs bitterly.) You – Adeniyi Soetan, the Terror of my Cooking Pot, the Plunderer of my Food Store – you are actually accusing ME of taking YOUR food. (laughs again.) Or is this some crafty strategy you are using to justify taking even more food from me when I get back? You know, all you have to do is ask – it's that simple.

Niyi: Hold on – are you actually DENYING taking the food in the fridge?

Tamuno: Deny? DENY?? Of course I deny it! In fact, to say that I deny taking your food from the fridge is like saying that an okada rider only violates the odd minor traffic rule. The fact that I'm squatting in your flat doesn't mean that I'm guilty of every single thing that goes wrong! (Niyi starts to talk, but Tamuno interrupts him.) Look, I've already missed two buses because of this conversation, and I don't want to hang about here till it's dark. Let's talk about your disappearing food when I return, all right? Bye! (Hangs up.)

Niyi: (thinks to himself): See my trouble? When this guy was practically homeless, I agreed to take him in out of the kindness of my heart. And this is how he repays me? By eating my own food? It is well. I think it is time I reminded him that doing someone a favour doesn't mean you're a pushover. (Paces around for a while, and then flops down on a tattered armchair.)

Voice: You're being hard on your friend, you know.

(Niyi springs out of his chair in shock and fright. He lands on the floor, but quickly scrambles to his feet, turning this way and that.)

Niyi: Who - what - where - wh. . . who are you? Who is that?

Voice: I'm not surprised you can't see me. Look this way, that's right, just behind the cupboard, Aha. Now you can see me.

(Indeed, Niyi can see the speaker. But this is one of those rare cases where seeing is NOT believing. . .)

Initially I was reluctant to read the story, but after reading it I can say I find the main character very amusing. Now we want to know how the conflict between Tamuno and Niyi will end, how Angry Man is going to deal with his landlord, and the person who is speaking to Angry Man through the speaker. Please continue the story

when is the second part coming up , make sure is as good as the first

nice piece.MORE! MORE! MORE!

This guy is a paranoid schizo, abi? Is this suppossed to be a tragedy or comedy? anyway abeg continue and let's see how it ends. ( hope he does not kill anyone, oh). For all we know maybe Julie sef has fashied him.

:-x

Good piece. And you paused at the very right point. Perhaps the hunger threw Niyi into some kind of hallucination. I would love to know what happened thereafter.

All,

Thanks for the feedback - you've just ensured that the second part will be on the board sometime this weekend.



Prof Ade,

Noooo, Niyi isn't 'schizo' - He's just very, very angry, that's all. The only thing holding him together is the love he has for his darling Julie.

hurry up Ka, please. Interesting.

OK all, thanks for patiently waiting. Here's the next part of the story. Enjoy!



(Out of the shadows of the cupboard, a lean wiry man emerges. He is clothed from head to toe in black – black cap, black shirt, black gloves, black jeans and black boots. He has a very relaxed expression on his face, as though it could break out into a smile at any moment.)

The Figure: Hello, Niyi. It's good to meet you in person. My name is. . .  well, let's just say that my name is Kamara Durukonko.

Niyi (still shocked): How did you get in, and how long have you been here for?

Durukonko: I completely understand your. . .  surprise at seeing me in here. But trust me, I mean you no harm. I had to see you here, but I only had to shake the door lightly and it opened up. You really should get your landlord to replace that lock, you know.

Niyi: So what are you doing here? I take it that it was you that ate the food in the fridge, then. I should call the police!

Durukonko (with a wry smile): Yes, it was me that ate the very delicious meal – I do apologise for my bad manners, and I promise that you will be fully compensated. But come on, you know you don't want to call the police. For one thing, I'd be long gone before they got here. For another, you'd be lucky to get away with just being charged for wasting their time. I think it would be better for you to hear me out first before rushing off to do anything rash.

Niyi: Just say what you want to say and stop beating about the bird in the bush.

Durukonko (still smiling): You mean "beating about the bush". Anyway, I was coming to that. How would you like to make a cool hundred thousand naira?

(There is a war in Niyi's mind as the forces of Greed for Durukonko's money fight a bitter battle with the forces of Anger over Durukonko's intrusion. Durukonko perceives this and moves to press his advantage.

Durukonko: At least I can see that you aren't just going to dismiss my proposal out of hand. Let me fill you in on the details.
I represent an. . .   er. . .   organisation which has been carrying out research into the human physiology. This organisation is particularly interested in ways in which the human physiology can be extended, so it's been doing some research into this, and it's looking for willing and suitable volunteers to test the results of its research.

In particular, the organisation has developed a device which gives a human user psychokinetic abilities. In other words, by focusing his thoughts, he is able to cause objects to move in certain ways. So far, limited laboratory trials have shown the device to be successful, but it now wants further tests to be carried out using suitable subjects. We've been looking around, and we feel that you'd be an ideal candidate.

(Niyi gives Durukonko a long hard suspicious stare.)

Niyi: Oh thank you very much Mr-Kamala-Dudukoko-or-whatever-you-call-yourself for this wonderful news. It is not everyday I have the honour of someone breaking into my flat to propose that I be a guinea-pig for whatever dubious experiments they want to perform. I suppose I should now grovel at your feet offering my everlasting gratitude, right?

(Durukonko bursts into good-natured laughter.)

Durukonko: You know, you can be quite funny in a sarcastic kind of way. But I'll deal with your suspicions. First of all, yes – you will be helping the organisation to test this device, but as I've said you'll be paid for it. There's nothing strange or unusual about that – any organisation that is involved in scientific research does need to test its products at some stage. And no, I'm not expecting that you should be grateful, but you can be sure that by agreeing to take part in this research, you are helping to achieve a laudable goal.

Niyi: (still suspiciously): I'm not convinced yet. Why me? Why have you gone to the trouble to break into MY flat? I'm sure there are many jobless people who you could have picked who wouldn't have asked you any questions if you offered them what you're offering me.

Durukonko: I did say that we were looking for SUITABLE candidates, so we couldn't just pick anyone. First of all, we need people who are educated enough to follow the instructions that we will give you as part of the testing program. In addition, we need people who fit a particular profile, and your profile proved to be ideal.

Niyi: But how did you get all this information about me? Have you been spying on me or what?

Durukonko: Don't you remember? A while ago, you filled in an online survey asking for various details of yourself and promising you the opportunity to win a sizeable amount of money.

(Niyi thinks for a while, then exclaims.)

Niyi: But that was a long time ago! And when nothing happened, I just assumed it was another 419 scam.

Durukonko (smiling): Well, you can see that contrary to the proverb, not all that glitters is NOT gold.

Niyi: I still don't understand – why didn't you just ring me and let me know you would be coming?

Durukonko (laughing again): Questions, questions, questions! Well, you DID provide a number, but I tried that and I didn't get through. Luckily for me, you provided your address in the survey. (Brings out a sheet of paper and shows Niyi.) That was the number.

Niyi (thinks awhile, and then remembers.) Oh, that was my old line – I think it was taken out of service because I hadn't used it in a while. (He flops back down on the chair, with his head in his hands.)

Durukonko: Look, I know this is a bit of a surprise, and I realise you need some time to think about it. So take your time. Here's my number – if you reach a decision, let me know. I'll take your number while I'm at it – just write it down on that sheet.

(Niyi writes down his number and hands it over to Durukonko.)

Durukonko (beaming): Excellent! Well I'll be on my way now. Do get in touch – you won't regret it. Cheerio! (And with a swift movement, he is out of the door before Niyi can say another word.)

This could turn out to be the best fiction I have read so far on Nairaland.
If you are aware of Woody Allen, then both of you would be good partners in progress in the genre of stream of consciousness drama.

Your confident manner is also a plus.
Your choice of words and the manner of speech are also good.

Your power of description is very good and makes your character analysis successful.

Why not make it straight prose instead of drama?

Gramatically, it might be perfect, but I feel it's not very Nigerian, and I haven't been hooked by the story.

Hi Orikinla,

Thanks for the compliment.

Why don't I make it prose? I guess drama has always appealed to me because of its directness - I find prose a bit too wordy, with all the descriptions, etc.

Ka,
Allright.

Follow your flow.
And let your genius continue to glow.

hmm, , do continue Ka, we're waiting.

Seun:

Gramatically, it might be perfect, but I feel it's not very Nigerian, and I haven't been hooked by the story.

@Seun,
We can't tell yet, but Durukonko sounds like a con man, and has almost succeeded in hoodwinking Niyi. Now that is undeniably Nigerian, coupled with the online survey he allegedly filled. With the advent of "yahoo" in Nigeria, we can relate with that too.

Hi Uzy,

Thanks. I don't have all the details of the story in my head at once - I flirt around with different alternatives before coming up with the next instalment, so even *I* can't say for sure what you'll be reading next. But you should see something in less than a week's time - stay tuned!

Ka,
very nice, sounds like one of those pacesetter novels i used to read in sec sch.
keep it up

OK, here's the third instalment. Enjoy.



(For a hour after Durukonko has left, Niyi paces up and down the flat in an agitated manner with his head in his hands, thinking over what he has just been told.)

Niyi (furiously conversing with himself in an undertone): Should I really go for this? How do I know it isn't a con? After all, this is how con men operate – they promise you gold, and then they ask you to part with some cash. But he hasn't asked me to part with cash yet – in fact he has OFFERED me money. So perhaps it is not a con. But wait – he is just OFFERING me money, he hasn't actually GIVEN me anything yet. And this so called 'test' self. . . maybe there is even no test. Maybe it is a trick to get me to carry drugs, or to take part in a robbery or even an assassination. But wait again o – why would he approach ME if he was looking for an assassin? Are there not enough of those types under the bridge? No – he must have approached me because he could easily perceive that I was a person of distinction. After all, he himself appears to be a cultured and mannered person. That may be it. . .

(Niyi's thoughts oscillate wildly in this manner, and he is so caught up in them that he doesn't hear a creak as the door opens, and a slim, neatly dressed young man enters. Tamuno – for it is he – stops, startled to see his friend pacing around and muttering to himself. At first, he wonders if he should call out his name, but he thinks the better of it. Instead he decides to lightly tap Niyi on his shoulder to gently bring him out of the depths of his thoughts. Unfortunately this has a completely opposite effect from what he intended. . .)

Niyi: AAAARGGH!!! (He jumps up, turns round and sees it is Tamuno.) Haba! What is your problem? Do you want to kill me?

Tamuno: Sorry o! I didn't want to startle you by calling out your name. What's the problem? You look like you have to make a difficult decision.

Niyi (sighing): Yes o. I had a very strange visit this evening. . .  a man called Karimu Dukudonko came round with a strange proposal. (Niyi proceeds to recount the evening's earlier experience to Tamuno.)

Tamuno: Hmm. . .  something about the whole story doesn't sound right. Are you sure this really happened, and you aren't confusing your dreams with reality? (Takes a look at the expression on Niyi's face and hurriedly continues.) All right, it really DID happen – but it still sounds funny to me.

For one thing, the device OBVIOUSLY couldn't have been developed in this country – we simply don't have the technological know how. And the way this Dukoloko guy was dressed sounds very un-Nigerian to me. So why don't they look for someone in their OWN country to test it on? Why come all the way here?

Also, how come he didn't bring the device with him to demonstrate? If he really wanted you to take part in its testing, he should have brought it down to show it to you.

Niyi: So are you saying that I should turn down the offer? And pass up the opportunity of making one hundred thousand naira?

Tamuno: No-o, I didn't say that. I'm just saying that there are all these unanswered questions.

Niyi: And that means I should do what?

Tamuno: Well, I don't know. . .  it's your decision to make,  but if it were me, with all these questions unanswered, I wouldn't proceed.

Niyi: But I can still call him and put these questions to him, not so?

Tamuno: I still don't know. . .  I'm sure he will give you a 'sweet' answer that will satisfy you – but when it comes to testing new things that have not been tried on anyone else. . .  me – I don't take risks with my health. What if it causes you to fall ill? Or worse still, you end up developing strange behaviour like that Mr. Alioha who lives just down the road?

Niyi (quickly): Abeg, shut up there! God will not let me end up like Mr. Alioha.

Tamuno: But God expects you not to take unnecessary risks like submitting your body to strange tests just for the sake of a few coins.

Niyi (all of a sudden very suspicious): Hold on! How do I know that YOU YOURSELF are not targeting that 100k, and that once I have rung this Dokonkudu man to decline his offer, you will not suddenly sneak in like Judas and volunteer yourself?

Tamuno (sighs): You have come again with your paranoia. How can I ring him when I don't even know his number?

Niyi: You? I know that you are devious enough to get it from me if you want.

Tamuno (wearily): OK, do what you want. I know you don't respect anything I say because circumstances have reduced me to the status of squatter in your flat. I don't even know why I bothered wasting my energy to give you my opinion. I'm sure you would pay more attention to Julie or those friends of yours that are always discussing those strange money-making schemes.

Niyi: Ah-ah, why are you angry all of a sudden? OK, I was only joking. If I say that you are smart enough to take money from me from under my nose, you should see it as a compliment, now. (In a hearty voice) After all, someone who is smarter than me must be very smart indeed!

Tamuno (smiling): You're not serious. This your arrogance is too much! Anyway, I've given my advice,  as I said, do what you want. Me, I'm hungry and I want to get some food to eat. (Heads towards his room, then suddenly stops.) Hold on – talking about food, this Dogonyaro man, was he the one that was guilty of the crime that you were blaming on me?

Niyi: What crime?

Tamuno (exclaiming): What crime? WHAT CRIME? Are you just pretending, or have you really forgotten about how you were calling for the heavens to descend because according to you, I had eaten the food that Julie prepared for you?

Niyi: Oh yes, I'd forgotten. Yes, the man did eat the food.

(Tamuno turns his head towards Niyi and cups his hand around his ear as though listening intently for something. After a few moments in this pose, he turns away shaking his head.)

Tamuno (in mock puzzlement): Hm. . .  I'm sure that after all those accusations had been proven false I should have heard the word 'Sorry' there, but no - I didn't hear anything. Let me try again. (He moves to resume his pose, but Niyi waves him off.)

Niyi: OK, OK, ah-ah! SOOOOORRRRRY!!!!! Can you hear it now, in crystal clear FM? SOOOOORRRRRY!!!!!

Tamuno (still in mock puzzlement): No, I still can't hear anything. (He moves his ear right up to Niyi's mouth, but Niyi pushes him off.)

Niyi (laughing): I think the lack of food in your stomach is affecting your hearing. Go and eat. I will consider your advice, but I still want to talk to Julie and the Cool Cash Collective before making my mind up.

Tamuno: Yes, do that. Let me know what happens, and good luck, whatever you decide!

hi ka

i realy like ur story it is vert intresting, my question is where u get such story from well i wish u best of luck. but the problem now is that u did not show ur email address, well i dont know the reason why u did that but i must say that, with the story u gave it like fun to every body and u know that people will like to talk to u. so plx u better do something about that and let us know ur email address and also have ur contant plx or either u send me ur email address. plx if u want to do that plx send it to ngosexy4real2nv@yahoo.com. i wish u good luck and i pray that God should continue to blessu and give u knowlegde, AMEN.

Good work Ka, and good luck to Niyi too. I eagerly await his decision too.

what a piece.that was an interesting one.pls tell me more

Chiluv2nv,

Thanks for the compliment. Now let's answer some of those questions of yours:

- Where did I get the story from? My head, of course.

- Why haven't I made my email address available? Well, I haven't thought it necessary, because anyone can post their responses to the story on the board. But if anyone feels they need to comment privately, I can be reached at kalakhroni at yahoo dot com.



Anyone else who's still reading,

Thanks for sticking around. I think there'll be a change of scene in the next instalment. After all, there's only so much of Niyi's flat we can take in this story - it's not 'Waiting for Godot', after all!

Cheers,

Ka

@KA,
keep up the super cool work and pls i wont mind a full copy after you have finished.
keep it real man

OK, here's part four. However, because I'm busy on other projects, there may be a longer delay before you see part five. But if there's enough interest, there WILL be a part five.

Remember also that you can influence the direction of the story. If you have any questions about what I've written, or you want to see more of a particular character, please say.

In the meantime - enjoy!



(It is the next day, and we hear the sound of staccato typing in an office. Looking closer, we see a bored young girl tapping away at an ancient typewriter in a desultory manner. Her demeanour is perfectly reflected in the threadbare appearance of the office which is sparsely furnished with two bare wooden tables and chairs, a rickety bookshelf and a well worn linoleum floor covering. To complete the scene, a ceiling fan creaks nonchalantly round and round above the girl.

Presently, the door to the office opens ever so slightly and Niyi's head pokes through cautiously. He gestures to the girl and raises his eyebrows as though asking a question. The girl responds by shrugging and shaking her head. On seeing this, Niyi visibly relaxes, saunters through the room to the unoccupied chair and collapses into it.)

The Girl (without looking up from her typing): You are late.

Niyi (heartily): Ngozi, ah-ah come on now! You know how traffic is in this place. . . and I'm not that late, anyway!

Ngozi: You are late by more than thirty minutes.

Niyi (slightly irritated): OK, so I'm late by thirty minutes, Mrs. Headmistress! But today is a special case.

Ngozi (turning to face him): You are late by more than thirty minutes for the third time this week!

(Niyi works his mouth into readiness for a biting retort, but changes his mind and forces a smile out of it instead.)

Niyi: OK, I am guilty as charged! (Raises his hands as if in surrender.) What is my sentence? Will a fine of three meat pies, two doughnuts and a drink be enough?

(Ngozi gives him a long stare before responding with a scornful burst of laughter.)

Ngozi: You? When you are always complaining of not having enough money for transport, you want to buy meat pies? Abeg, please don't make me laugh!

(Niyi looks at her for a while, and then clears his throat.)

Niyi: OK, Ngozi, I need a favour from you.

Ngozi: Of course you need a favour. That's why you are trying to do Mr. Nice-Nice.

Niyi (trying to keep his voice level): I have this very important phone call to make, and unfortunately I have run out of credit on my GSM. I was wondering. . .

Ngozi (mimicking Niyi's voice): ". . .if you could let me have the keys to Mr. Sanusi's office so that I can quickly make a phone call". (returns to her own voice) Abi isn't that what you want?

Niyi (embarrassed): Actually. . . yes, that's what I was going to ask for.

Ngozi (suddenly smiling): No problem. I've opened the door already. You can go straight in if you wish.

Niyi (gratefully): Thanks, Ngozi!

(Niyi gets up, walks to the door of the office, opens it and walks in. Mr. Sanusi, an elderly man with greying hair looks up from reading some papers on his desk, startled by the sudden entry. As for Niyi, it is all he can do to stop himself from visibly recoiling in shock as the last thing he is expecting to see is Mr. Sanusi in his office.)

Mr. Sanusi (with irritation): Niyi, how can you just come barging into my office like this? Have I not told you before to knock on my office before entering?

Niyi (stammering): S-s-sorry sir, I didn't know you were. . . I mean, I had to tell you something urgent, and in my haste I forgot to knock.

Mr. Sanusi (still irritated, folding his arms and staring at Niyi): OK, what is it?

Niyi: Errm. . . I just wanted to keep you up-to-date on my progress in preparing the financial statement for Dungse and Sons. I've completed the trial balance of the books, but there were a few figures that didn't balance. I just need some more information from the company – I will be contacting them today, in fact.

Mr. Sanusi (incredulously): What are you talking about? Didn't I tell you last week to stop working on that account, because Chief Dungse had realised that there were some expenses that he had not accounted for? Or were you sleeping as usual when I was talking.

(Niyi shifts from foot to foot uncomfortably.)

Mr. Sanusi: Sometimes, I wonder what the matter is with young people like you these days. Do you know that when I was building this company up, I had to work for ninety-six hours every week – and I still had time to remember the details of ALL the accounts I had to manage!

But anyway, by coincidence, I was thinking of the Dungse account just now, because the chief just rang to let me know that the documentary evidence for these expenses is ready. Usually, I would have sent Sunday here (gestures to a young man standing quietly in a corner of the office) to pick them up. . . but you seem so keen on finishing the account that I will give this assignment to you. (Smiles mirthlessly.) You know where the place is. . .

Niyi (thinking unhappily): Yes – the other side of town, where I will have to cross some of the worst traffic jams in Lagos to get to.

Mr. Sanusi: I expect to have the documents collected and the trial balance completed today. That's all for now. (As Niyi turns to go, Mr. Sanusi interrupts him.) By the way Niyi, if you choose to lie, choose your lies well. You haven't actually done any work on the trial balance – I know, because I was looking at the document while talking to the chief this morning. Anyway, that's no problem, because you will have finished today. Have a pleasant morning, and shut my door on your way out.

(Niyi shuffles out of the office dejectedly. Once in the main office, he turns furiously on Ngozi.)

Niyi: You are a wicked, lying evil witch! You knew that Mr. Sanusi was in the office, and yet you told me he had not arrived!

Ngozi (innocently): I don't what you're talking about. I thought you were playing a game making gestures and faces through the door, so I decided to join your game and respond with my own gestures and faces. So you misread my gestures? Sorry o! (Bursts into laughter.)

Niyi: I don't have the time to deal with you now. I'm going all the way to Otta. But enjoy your laughter now. . . because when I get back, you will see the naked redness of my eyes! (And with that, Niyi storms out of the office.)

very nice, maybe niyi will think more about the business proposal he got

Nice one brother, keep it up!