Nothing further than reading this work should be done without my permission. I seldom love publishing my serious work on public platforms but because of Nairaland.com kindness to her users, I promise to keep us entertained. I always like to say thanks to my readers without whom I wouldn't have reached this point in time. All criticisms are welcomed but should strictly follow Nairaland.com guidelines.
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(In marital issues, an illiterate woman has a peace of mind than the educated one. I forgot who said this: "He who says he sees is the one who is blind".


Her fingers wandered on the Zinox key board, typing a letter to Shaka, the Regional Managing Director, her miniskirt up, her thighs bare, charming like an apple.

She did not type much but kept her hands;
behind, her elbows showing like wings. Some times it did happen to her if she was reading a novel,
her mind would wander in to abyss.

Last night, in the African Night Club, sitting at the corner in the blue light, she ate her chicken meat, and drank bitter spirit,
till she felt tipsy.
But a regular customer, called Momodu, was a scaly-wag. Sputtering, and stuttering, he seemed to make her night a rotten cabbage, saying she was too old to be minded;
in her room, she spent three hours in front of a mirror.

The tip of her tongue tasted salt. She gazed at the wall and typed the name of the company, where she worked, The West African Steel Rolling Company,
her fingers wandering slowly like crabs.

Her thighs clean, shining like glass. Where she went old could be her face, but she looked great behind the wall of ECOWAS’ building in Conakry. If she was a married woman, Momodu wouldn’t have had that gut to talk to her,
but in her younger age, she did not respect men;
like most African successful girls,
thinking she was educated, if not, she would have met a good husband in the U.S during her Masters in Economics, or here in Potonovo
during her French course.

Smelling old files, she felt warm at the edges of her tongue, concentrated on the screen without a quite focuss on the lines. It looked as if it was her first draft. But no. This was final,
her request for her transfer to Accra.

She typed:
Yours Faithfully,
Mowinga Johnson,
The C.E.O

iceberylin:

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@urhobboman,keep reading it. The tory is written in poetic sense.

Nairalanders should be made to meet certain conditions before creating any thread. The rate at which meaningless threads are created is alarming.

@IfyNairaland, if you're not intelligent or educated to understand this, pls shoot up!

A highly educated woman who doesn't settle down eventually is not a way for one to conclude that education is disappointing to African women. Some people and their way of reasoning,smh.

@Miss Mossy, congrat! It seems like you understood it. This is not something like 'Doro.' This is well edited and targeted to intelligent and educated audience.

marenx:
@IfyNairaland, if you're not intelligent or educated to understand this, pls shoot up!

Sir Marenx, please how do I SHOOT up? I'm hearing that for the first time.

ifynairaland:
Sir Marenx, please how do I SHOOT up? I'm hearing that for the first time.

he meant shhhharrrap!!

@IfyNairaland, From my side it doesn't mean an insult or abuse. But sorry if you take it as such. Please acknowledge my apology. I mean I need a constructive criticism.