Title: A Job Hunt (part one)
For some reason, the fact that I was a first class university graduate and spoke with an accent out of a Jane Austin movie did nothing to deter the receptionist of K.K and sons Ltd., from treating me like a lowly commoner. Perhaps, the fact that I appeared to be one aided her prognosis. How was i to explain to her that my landlady threw me out of the house and confiscated my second hand iron as well as my other electrical appliances leaving me with nothing but my little transistor radio which I listened to everyday and night till the battery became too weak to even be recharged in the sun? Telling her I spent the night outside what used to be my one room apartment and the chances of taking a bath was next to none, all I could do was brush my teeth and wash my face with water borrowed from mummy Bola who lived in the next room. Of course I got more than water from her. She spent about 30 minutes of my time giving me advice and telling me I wasted my life in school getting to use big words that no one else understood, instead of investing in the sale of second-hand shoes and clothes. She stylishly told me i looked the part and would have made it big in no time. I was saved by one of  her many children who let out a tremendous yell from the dark interior of her room.