Chapter 17: Shame No Dey Kill Naija Woman

People begin look.

Some dey peep from cubicle, some dey whisper. E sure me say dem go carry the gist go WhatsApp group later.

I keep my head down, still dey beg. “Your cloth... I fit wash am for you, or buy another one.”

Inside my mind, I dey calculate how much white suit dey cost for Shoprite.

“You fit afford am?” She look me from head to toe, like say I be expired gala.

Her lips bend like say e dey smell nonsense.

Her nails sharp; she just pull my hair, remove my mask.

My head hot as she yank am. But I nor fit shout, I just hold my pain.

My face show. I hear person for back gasp.

One small “chai!” escape from somebody mouth. I wan vanish.

“You...” The woman shock.

I nor know if na the scar scare her, or something else.

I close my eyes small, then put the mask back, try hide my shame.

E pain me, but I gats hold myself. Shame no dey kill Naija woman.

“Sorry,” I say, bend head. “Anything you want do, I go accept.”

I ready for any slap or insult, make e just end.

Everywhere just quiet.

Even the AC for office nor dey make sound again.

Suddenly, elevator bell ring—one sharp “ding.”

That kind sound wey dey announce better person.

Door open, person come out.

All eyes turn. My body just dey shake.

Tall figure shadow cover my foot.

The shadow long, na so respect just fill everywhere.