All Rights Reserved
©2015
crislyn, bibie01, olanipekuntomi, seunviju, sebak, onosj, larrysun, danwrites, domawoleye, Thronekid, D9ty7, Tiffanyj, helenbee, teebashy, prettydiva89, fatalveli, harjibolar10, fembleez1, stuff46, Divepen, cybershow, Tattesco, Ali1king, kingphilip, onemansquad, tecno4life, bluestarry, jefferyjamez, slap1, chinweblinkz, supermartin, ishilove, pweetidamsel, jeanfortune, jaymomma, vibra, almacherich, marynneka,
trusted, Shadowbean Abimbawealth, emarkson,
Hiroshize, jhimmy, UnknownT, laykorn, kenwins,
iceberylin, Ollyfad, AnnbabyHot, debonairprinx,
rondo235, MzNelly, toykathy, Champele, PBeni, princesa,
Thermythorpe, Redmosquito, FoxyRebirth, natasha,
Neduzze5, yemi2plus, YellowMosquito, DNA1, bimbiola,
faithgokz, sizzlezNBT, Enigurl, Trendytessy, Omololamide, smithe113, misterjosh, MzChistar, J0sh007, carolinew, tbabstobadt, Feyifahm, Mizsammy, Royver, Ifyx, MsSpaqs, ochetinz, Tundeajani, bukkynababe, walintize, kinsjesus, conniblakes, iamdsam, Clemzy16, Cutepie1, DazzlinPearl, JIGGERNAPPY, Fellycutie, adeswagsdmj, Arnoldo, Gifteey100, shalomtemmy, johnnobles, chinedumo, temiK9, Oppy16, amitalian, Herbheorlar, barbiesexy, emmanwandud, Teenuolah, BlesinE, Perfercter4real, mzkomsy, rhapzidy, Therock5555, lekkybam, Skykid1208, Blize7, legendprac, Seankay, BarnabasCo, chesm, Smhart1, tosingcfr, king94, yormite, teetee92, Kensco,
geogino, simplifier, Affable0709, Chuksyd1, Incredibleme, Daniel2802, oloriireomo, kunlesehan, Tafamonday, Nekkie27, slimfredo, ibuome, dryakson, iyk1, m003, BabieGhagha, hyungwang, mador, Aimedrey, peterphd, 360prince, shaks97, Braidz, tinahrex, RazziP, Fehmy25s, Kingphilip, Eblee, Ritababe, dagift333, moyarhtohbadt, Meel unique27, MrsGoodness, Lionize, MhizTemmie, AlienStar, Theorbiter, Ionprince, princesssusan, Susrite, Glowstone, bigwig97, Missmossy, ruffhandu, may3, Tomkhalifa52, okeyfineboy, kechywillz, folake25, tescoleps, teamplayey, ethereal, unlimitedbosco, PrinceGozie, Yudeeaikay, pelontus, justicesky24, Flakkydagirl, Psalmwise, mariamferanmi, qloreal, onosj, Rahma26, Kayleb37, Mutaino7, kwencypresh, lawrenzo007, Tobilastik, yettielicious, eunisam, Athanatos, usmanspihn, hassan85, princesa, kiddyking, fam24, moshood1993, handmaid, missterious, kingphilip, kenwins, SexySapphire, Princesschi, Niwdog, Suspect33, Visionaire, Bunsky, laykorn, emitheo, alabig, marioking

Present sir

Ecclesiastes 10:10, Wisdom is profitable to direct...

When Karl Marx opined that "religion is the opium of the masses", was he being factual?

Introducing: The Man and The Prophet!

ritababe:
Present sir

That was a fast one! You're welcome.

#1

The man danced back and forth like one possessed. Yes, they said he was possessed, of the Spirit of the Most High God. They said he claimed so; some said they believed him. He was clad in a deep blue gown, dusty at the bottom seam and black at the pocket openings. These pocket openings appeared like two slits, two dirt-blackened, horizontal slits, flanking his navel from his lowest rib level to his waistline level. He wore no shoes on his large toed feet, flat and spread out like a bird's. The toenails were a different story. Dark, stubby and sparingly sprinkled, no bird would have loved to be associated with such. For a reason no one could guess, both of his big toes totally lacked nails. About three other toes were affected by same problem; some observant ones pitied him, he never pitied himself, at least never appeared to do so.

He was of middle height. He was fair, or would have been had dirt not appeared to darken his complexion. His face gave off a hint of handsomeness, though this was ably subdued by his overgrown beard, rolled into undetachable coils at some points, unable to help displaying to the world the inattention they had been subjected to. He had a bald which made the bushy hair on his head shapen like a clay African hearth, like the crescent.

It was a bus-stop, but his voice rose above the cacophony of voices. It was higher than those of passengers either boarding or disembarking from the buses. It was higher than the shouts by the bus conductors as they jostled for passengers, it was higher than those of the roadside traders displaying their wares in trays of different sizes, with some others having theirs piled high on wheelbarrows. The latter probably did so in readiness for swift relocation in the event of a swoop down by men of the state's Illegal Trade Task Force.

The man clutched two books in his left armpit; a bible and another book of almost the same size, hidden behind it. He held a bell in his right hand, a bell he rung at intervals.

'I am anointed for a purpose,' the man announced, 'I am Prophet Ebube Sule Ajayi Jonah. I come from a line of prophets and is on a special mission to this nation. Like Prophet Jonah of biblical fame, my mission is special and my message is timely...'

Few persons listened to him, though others couldn't help hearing him. Some of these were impressed by his diction, it was a far cry from his coarse appearance. But very few didn't see him as a scam. His type were on the increase everyday, products of a failed socioeconomic system. They came on the streets, bartering fake prophecies for pay; sometimes, they encountered the very rich and gullible and systematically swindled their way out of the streets into mansions. A short, dark-complexioned woman, her behind rolling like two balls bouncing against themselves, observed him for a moment and hissed before pushing her bulbous frame into a bus. To her, he was clearly a scam artist; what was it with the attempt to associate with all major ethnic groupings in the country.

Prophet Jonah didn't see her, he wasn't concerned about her type; he wasn't concerned about those stingy ones that tied their lean change in one edge of their wrappers. He wasn't concerned about those ones that barely had enough to feed themselves, not to talk of meeting the needs of others. He was concerned about the crowd. He was concerned about that one person in the midst of the multitude who would make the next list of millionaires, he knew such emerged everyday - sometimes by dint of industry, other times as a result of luck. He was concerned about such.

'...When one rejects God's word, one invites disappointment...'

To Be Kontinyud...

Ohibenemma:
That was a fast one! You're welcome.

tnks,
yurme, psalmwise

Ohibenemma:
All Rights Reserved
©2015
crislyn, bibie01, olanipekuntomi, seunviju, sebak, onosj, larrysun, danwrites, domawoleye, Thronekid, D9ty7, Tiffanyj, helenbee, teebashy, prettydiva89, fatalveli, harjibolar10, fembleez1, stuff46, Divepen, cybershow, Tattesco, Ali1king, kingphilip, onemansquad, tecno4life, bluestarry, jefferyjamez, slap1, chinweblinkz, supermartin, ishilove, pweetidamsel, jeanfortune, jaymomma, vibra, almacherich, marynneka,
trusted, Shadowbean Abimbawealth, emarkson,
Hiroshize, jhimmy, UnknownT, laykorn, kenwins,
iceberylin, Ollyfad, AnnbabyHot, debonairprinx,
rondo235, MzNelly, toykathy, Champele, PBeni, princesa,
Thermythorpe, Redmosquito, FoxyRebirth, natasha,
Neduzze5, yemi2plus, YellowMosquito, DNA1, bimbiola,
faithgokz, sizzlezNBT, Enigurl, Trendytessy, Omololamide, smithe113, misterjosh, MzChistar, J0sh007, carolinew, tbabstobadt, Feyifahm, Mizsammy, Royver, Ifyx, MsSpaqs, ochetinz, Tundeajani, bukkynababe, walintize, kinsjesus, conniblakes, iamdsam, Clemzy16, Cutepie1, DazzlinPearl, JIGGERNAPPY, Fellycutie, adeswagsdmj, Arnoldo, Gifteey100, shalomtemmy, johnnobles, chinedumo, temiK9, Oppy16, amitalian, Herbheorlar, barbiesexy, emmanwandud, Teenuolah, BlesinE, Perfercter4real, mzkomsy, rhapzidy, Therock5555, lekkybam, Skykid1208, Blize7, legendprac, Seankay, BarnabasCo, chesm, Smhart1, tosingcfr, king94, yormite, teetee92, Kensco,
geogino, simplifier, Affable0709, Chuksyd1, Incredibleme, Daniel2802, oloriireomo, kunlesehan, Tafamonday, Nekkie27, slimfredo, ibuome, dryakson, iyk1, m003, BabieGhagha, hyungwang, mador, Aimedrey, peterphd, 360prince, shaks97, Braidz, tinahrex, RazziP, Fehmy25s, Kingphilip, Eblee, Ritababe, dagift333, moyarhtohbadt, Meel unique27, MrsGoodness, Lionize, MhizTemmie, AlienStar, Theorbiter, Ionprince, princesssusan, Susrite, Glowstone, bigwig97, Missmossy, ruffhandu, may3, Tomkhalifa52, okeyfineboy, kechywillz, folake25, tescoleps, teamplayey, ethereal, unlimitedbosco, PrinceGozie, Yudeeaikay, pelontus, justicesky24, Flakkydagirl, Psalmwise, mariamferanmi, qloreal, onosj, Rahma26, Kayleb37, Mutaino7, kwencypresh, lawrenzo007, Tobilastik, yettielicious, eunisam, Athanatos, usmanspihn, hassan85, princesa, kiddyking, fam24, moshood1993, handmaid, missterious, kingphilip, kenwins, SexySapphire, Princesschi, Niwdog, Suspect33, Visionaire, Bunsky, laykorn, emitheo, alabig, marioking

present

I don show
Oga Ben weldone o





Hmmmm all diz prophet of our tym, nah only God go helep us 4rm dia hands.
I luv ur description
Kwantiniooooo

kwencypresh:
present

Grab a seat and relax. Thanks for showing up.

princesssusan:
I don show Oga Ben weldone o




Hmmmm all diz prophet of our tym, nah only God go helep us 4rm dia hands. I luv ur description Kwantiniooooo

THANKS; you're welcome.

Honestly I was here in the early hours of yesterday, but I don't know what happen, as I try to register my presence here, it kee telling me I couldn't, and sorry like say I've comit a crime.. ..

Now here i am again o, Oga I'm here now, and I'm here to stay as usual


Oya let's go there

harjibolar10:
Honestly I was here in the early hours of yesterday, but I don't know what happen, as I try to register my presence here, it kee telling me I couldn't, and sorry like say I've comit a crime.. ..

Now here i am again o, Oga I'm here now, and I'm here to stay as usual


Oya let's go there

Thanks all the same. Was very busy yesterday - in church from 2 till 10pm. Update Shortly.

#2

'...When one rejects God's word, one invites disappointment...'

The dark complexioned, middle heighted man strode to the bus-stop. His clean-shaven face was in what appeared a permanent frown. It had been a daily routine, the one week since he arrived the city, to trek over 300 metres from his uncle's two-roomed apartment to the bus-stop where he would board a bus to the Central Business District. He had been submitting his Curriculum Vitae to all the organizations in that district, sometimes up to four every day. He wouldn't mind the many hours he was asked to wait at the reception halls before he was attended to, he didn't mind the mechanical smiles he received from the HR guys; pretensive smiles as if they cared a bit about him when he was just another drop in their ocean. He slung on a backpack which held a brown envelope containing his credentials, a letter of recommendation from his pastor and another from the Chairman of his Local Government Area. How his mum had managed to get the latter still baffled him. The chairman was widely regarded as a very pompous man, who had forgotten his humble beginnings no sooner than he won the heavily rigged council elections. He now had new friends, the very influential politicians, with whom he was said to fritter away whatever was in the coffers of the local government council.

Sweat trailed down his forehead, despite the early morning breeze. He produced a blue handkerchief from his pocket with which he wiped his face.

The prophet was there, as usual, he was there every morning. But this time, he appeared to look directly in the direction of the young man as he approached. The young man wasn't sure of this at first, but as he got closer to the bearded blue robed man, questions started arising as to why the prophet stared at him.

'I have said it that like the Prophet Jonah of biblical fame, I have been sent to this generation,' Prophet Jonah continued. 'I have been sent to this city with a timely message, but would we be like the Ninevites? Would we wholeheartedly accept the message of Yahweh? I am the Lord, I change not, Malachi 3:6.'

Some people laughed, they had heard those words so repeatedly that they no longer made any sense to them. They were sure that the dynamics in Nineveh during Jonah's time was much different from the dynamics of their city, they were sure that the bible's Prophet Jonah was not so bearded, neither was he bald.

'I know you, young man,' he said to the approaching young man, 'I know that desire of your heart, sayeth the Lord of hosts...'

The young man did all he could to erase the frown on his face, but the creases only deepened. It had taken some effort to arrive at the bus-stop and it was an effort he was getting to loathe.

'You have tried for the past week to no avail. You came to the city fresh and with high hopes, but can't help the frustration you are beginning to feel now. I want to help you, saith the Lord of hosts...'

The young man was in a hurry, but the message sounded too accurate to be ignored. It was possible that the prophet had been observant the past week. He had boarded buses from that bus-stop the whole week; but how did the prophet get to know that he had just arrived the city? How did he know about the high hopes with which he had arrived? How did the prophet get to know that he was beginning to feel highly frustrated? He slowed down, almost to a halt, just a few metres away from the prophet. He was eager to hear more.

'I am not a man that I should lie, neither am I the son of man that I should repent, saith the Lord, Numbers 23:19. What I say I will do, that is what I do. Olugbenga James, I want to help you.'

That decided it! The prophet just called his name! He just did so accurately! That moment, he forgot how, four days earlier, one of his CVs had slipped off his hands as he attempted to board a bus. He hadn't bothered to retrieve it as those behind him had immediately trampled it underfoot. He was Olugbenga James, and the prophet had just called his name. He didn't move at all again, he stood a few metres away from the prophet.

'The Lord cannot lie, but his blessings are for the willing and obedient...' The prophet continued.

'How can you be paying heed to this charlatan?' A young man, who had just arrived the scene, said to James. 'This is how they go about the city, swindling unsuspecting persons. Come on, you are too educated for this.'

James checked himself briefly, as if to ascertain if he actually looked educated. The message was strong, but so was the disclaimer by the young new entrant. His mind wanted him to stay and listen to the prophet, but he felt that would be belittling; he felt that wouldn't speak well of his education. Reluctantly, with his frown now appearing like borne out of irritation, he joined the rush to the next available bus.

'When one rejects God's word, one invites disappointment...today, you will see the worst kind of disappointment you ever encountered!'

To be Kontinyud...

Thou shall wait and listen to whatever that man want to say, as it may be of use whatsoever.

'When one rejects God's word, one invites disappointment...today, you will see the worst kind of disappointment you ever encountered!'

I hope that man hear those sentences, may be he may come to his sense


Keep em coming boss

Hmmmmm
Abeg kom kwantinio

harjibolar10:
Thou shall wait and listen to whatever that man want to say, as it may be of use whatsoever.




I hope that man hear those sentences, may be he may come to his sense


Keep em coming boss

APPEARANCE may be deceptive, you know.

Ohibenemma:
APPEARANCE may be deceptive, you know.

Exactly, may be that's the problem here

harjibolar10:
Exactly, may be that's the problem here

But i tot d man is fake, base on d way he was presented n even diariss some where OBE, pointed dt he daz d prophet is nt after d stingy ones or sometin lyk dt.

princesssusan:


But i tot d man is fake, base on d way he was presented n even diariss some where OBE, pointed dt he daz d prophet is nt after d stingy ones or sometin lyk dt.

I never said he isn't either. BY their fruits, you shall know them.

present.

Ohibenemma:
I never said he isn't either. BY their fruits, you shall know them.

Hmmm, fingers crossed.
Ishilove, obinnau, royver.

#3

'When one rejects God's word, one invites disappointment...today, you will see the worst kind of disappointment you ever encountered!'

The words hit James like a thunderbolt. Wasn't he being foolish, listening to this man? Wasn't he being more foolish, following the crowd? What if the prophet was a charlatan yet God had chosen to make him a channel to him? What if he was throwing away a genuine opportunity by playing to the crowd sentiments? He half-listened to the discussions of the bus passengers which initially centred around the prophet and his likes all over the city to the harsh conditions the people of the city were subjected to by the harsh tax regime of the state government. This, a fair woman seated beside the driver, said was responsible for the likes of the prophet. Many of them, she claimed, had no shelter over their heads and lay wherever the night met them. The same young man, who had warned him about the prophet, said something about some of such persons using their daytime chores as facades to mask their nighttime dubious ventures.

He said: 'Don't be surprised to find Prophet Jonah wielding a pump action and running a robbery gang every night, only to return here when it's day, holding those books and appearing poor and hungry...'

He was making some sense, but James wasn't interested in what they were discussing. He was thinking about the prophet's last words to him. What disappointment could be the man be referring to? He looked out of the window and asked the driver to stop, they had gotten to where he would alight.

James wiped his face and got out a sheet of paper from his backpack. In it was a list of company addresses. Some were asterisked, he had covered those ones already. He would cover the next five companies before retiring home. He had already submitted his CV in two of those the previous week and would only check for any feedbacks. The remaining three, he would submit his CVs to afresh. He received a call from his uncle that moment.

'Hello, sir,' he said into the mouthpiece after answering the call.

'Have you gotten there now?'

'No, sir. I just alighted from the bus...'

'Do you know that you are not serious?' His uncle angrily asked. 'I've been telling you since last week that these people are usually in the best of moods early in the mornings; didn't I?'

James checked his wristwatch; it was barely twenty minutes since he left home. 'You did, sir.'

'Well, it's your hair and only you know what style you would plait it into.'

He didn't respond. He didn't see the need for his uncle's vituperation. His uncle was becoming increasingly irritating every passing day. His wife was no different; she would just pick on an inconsequential misdemeanour and launch into an endless tirade. It was one of the reasons behind his increasing frustration, it was one of the reasons behind the frown now almost permanently etched on his face.

He marched to the gates of the first company and was admitted by the security men at the gate. He didn't like the sneering look on their faces. They had seen him the previous week; maybe they too were beginning to see him as a nuisance - like his uncle and wife.

He met the receptionist at her desk. She wore a straight face, one that gave no hints at all, one that increased his apprehension. He approached her nonetheless.

'Good morning, ma,' he greeted her. He was sure she couldn't be senior to him.

'Good morning,' she replied, her face still wan. She waited for him to inhale deeply and exhale rather noisily before adding: 'I know why you are here, but like you were told last week, you will be contacted when there's something.'

'I just thought I should check...'

'Are you hard on hearing? I said you don't need to check. You will be contacted should there be anything...' She raised her voice a bit.

'What's going on there, Seyi?' One of the top shots called from his office.

'It's one of these traders who feel one owes it a duty to buy their wares, sir.'

'Call in the security men; such persons shouldn't be allowed in here.'

James found himself tongue-tied. He couldn't deny her blatant lie. And it had been deliberate. Why did she hate him so? He turned around when he saw her lift the telephone receiver from its dialing mechanism. He thought he could hear a snigger as he went past the glass sliding door, but he wasn't sure.

'Are you leaving so soon?' One of the security men asked at the gate.

He gave no answer, he had no answer. As he stepped outside the gates, it hit him - the prophet's angry declarations just as he entered the bus. Wasn't he already encountering unusual disappointments? Had he thrown away his chances after all? He looked back suddenly, only to catch both security men still staring at him. They shut the wicket gate immediately their eyes met. His thoughts returned to the prophet: was the man really a charlatan? If God could use stones, couldn't he use charlatans too? If he had placed himself under a divine curse by undermining prophesy, was there any need continuing in his quest? Wasn't it wiser to go back and plead with the prophet for forgiveness? But there was the possibility of the turnout of things just being coincidental. He also remembered his uncle's recent attitude towards him, he remembered the now ever-present metallic edge to his voice, reserved only for when he spoke to him, and determined to move on. His uncle would discuss freely with his nieces and nephew - like he used to, with him, when he hadn't come to the city - but then bring on that antagonistic metallic edged tone once the question or statement was directed at him. He had to push on, he had to keep trying until he broke the barrier.

To be Kontinyud...

harjibolar10:
Exactly, may be that's the problem here

princesssusan:


But i tot d man is fake, base on d way he was presented n even diariss some where OBE, pointed dt he daz d prophet is nt after d stingy ones or sometin lyk dt.

Princess in addition to what u said, I think the cv that fell down the prophet saw it and picked it hence getting the details he's presently exploiting

He had to push on, he had to keep trying until he broke the barrier.


The never say die spirit and the never give up are one everybody should possess at all times in other to keep up despite the challenges

Ohi welcome back

kingphilip:

Princess in addition to what u said, I think the cv that fell down the prophet saw it and picked it hence getting the details he's presently exploiting

You got it!
I wanted adding it bt dont wnt to post a long epistle.

Ohibenemma:
I never said he isn't either. BY their fruits, you shall know them.

Hmmm
I can‘t wait to see much of dia fruits, so as to unravel d mystery.
Carry on sir!

kingphilip:
He had to push on, he had to keep trying until he broke the barrier.


The never say die spirit and the never give up are one everybody should possess at all times in other to keep up despite the challenges

Ohi welcome back

Thanks, sir.

princesssusan:
Hmmm I can‘t wait to see much of dia fruits, so as to unravel d mystery. Carry on sir!

I will; shortly.

#4

...to keep trying until he broke the barrier.

More so, he had heard similar stories of jobseekers in the past, some of them searched for many years before getting a job. His case wasn't yet like one of such. It was too early to give up. He sighted the gate of the second organization and approached it with trepidation. But, unlike the first, the man at the gate smiled as he welcomed him. The man even asked for who he sought for and directed him on how to locate the office. James was pleasantly surprised. To think he had assumed a curse he wasn't under! He would give that bearded man a piece of his mind the next time he made any reference to him.

James swiftly climbed the stairs, two at a time, until he arrived at the upper floor where the Director of Strategy's office was located. Confidently he knocked on the door, waited for some seconds, before turning the door handle and pushing the door open.

'What are you looking for?' An unfriendly Director of Strategy demanded, looking up from the computer monitor before him.

'Good morning, sir; I thought this is the office of the Director of ...' His voice trailed off.

'Of course, you are right. But what are you looking for?'

'I submitted a CV here last week and was directed to inquire from you, from time to time, whether there was any vacancy.' He was doing all he could to appear calm. All his earlier confidence had varnished into thin air.

'That's very correct, and you are...?'

'Olugbenga James, sir.'

The man rifled through a heap of files on his desk and drew out one. He entered some details from the file in the computer and hit the Enter button. A smile slowly came on his face.

'So you are Olugbenga James?' He asked. 'Please, sit down.'

'Yes, sir,' James replied, seeing a ray of hope. 'Thank you, sir.'

'And your file says you studied Geography and Planning Sciences?'

'Yes, sir.'

'You understand the workings of compasses and their readings?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Then I can tell you that you are just the right guy we need.'

James could feel the butterflies in his tummy fluttering. It had been the only position he applied for the previous week that had any connection with his discipline. The firm was into Vehicle Monitoring Systems and were contracted to a couple of shipping firms.

'Our company's pay is very attractive, but we expect our members of staff to be hardworking.'

'I'm very hard-working, sir.'

'As if I was expecting you to say anything less. You will be entitled to an official car and an apartment. Let me see your credentials.'

James hastily brought out the file from his bag and handed over some documents to the man.

'Have you done a job like this before?'

He hadn't; his industrial training had been with a firm into graphic designs. He shook his head.

'Hmmm, I don't think that sounds good, Mr. Olugbenga James. We cherish experience here a lot, two years in the least.' The man smiled.

James wondered why employers tended to be so difficult. Where did they expect applicants to get two years experience from when they wouldn't employ undergraduates. He remembered his last joker, the letter from his Local Government Area Chairman and pulled it out.

'Yes, is that for us? Let's have it,' the man said, and stretched his hand across the desk for the letter.

James suddenly regretted pulling out the letter, but he had no choice than to hand it over.

'What do we have here?! A letter from your Local Government Chairman? How do you jobseekers get such silly ideas in your brains?' The smile had evaporated from his face.

'Sir...' James was trying to stutter.

'Do we look like one of those inefficient, quota-ridden, corrupt government entities?' The man was visibly angry. 'Of what importance is an L.G chairman to our operations here?' He pressed a switch on his table.

James couldn't muster a response. It had been a very wrong move on his part - producing the chairman's recommendation letter - something he had been previously convinced would be advantageous.

The door to the Director of Strategy's office opened and two men walked in.

'Mr Adewale, Mr Edidiong, you won't believe the stunt this man here pulled,' the Director of Strategy said as soon as they were in. 'A graduate alright, but who brings a recommendation letter from his Local Government chairman here?'

'Maybe he thought this is the Ministry of Lands and Agriculture,' the taller and darker amongst the two said.

'Or better still, a campaign office...' They all, except James, burst into laughter.

'You can imagine such temerity,' the Director said. 'I have a good mind to call in men of the Code of Conduct and Ethics Bureau, but I won't do that. See here, young man,' he flung the letter at him, 'you may go and tell your local chairman that you lost a job because of him.' James picked up the letter from the floor. 'Now, get out of my office.'

His head was heavy, his legs more so, as James trudged out of the office. The laughter from the occupants of the office rang in his ears, he knew it was about him. He felt silly, he felt stupid, he felt useless. He managed a nod - in response to the man at the gate's salutation - as he went past the gate.

Back on the road, the words of the prophet came back strongly at him. He couldn't remember ever being so disappointed in the past; he couldn't remember ever being so embarrassed in his life. He sighted a mould of rock, sitting in the middle of well-trimmed lawn, in front of a security firm and trudged to it. He had a lot to think about.

After ten minutes of arduous brain activity, James arose, resolved to return to the bus-stop. He would beg the prophet and ask to be forgiven. Youthful exuberance, peer pressure, whatever; he would find an excuse for his earlier foolish disregard. He wouldn't mind what others may say, he wouldn't care about their scornful glances, he had his future at stake.

To be Kontinyud...

Chai!!!
I felt 4 him
OBE weldone, more grease to ur elbow.

ritababe:

tnks, yurme, psalmwise

on my way babes make my beans done