You forcefully open the double doors to your room to see your reflection in the large spotless mirror staring at you, as you try to avoid the Master. Your image kills the mustard seed of hope you have been trying to nurture – your eyes exhausted from too many tears. Your lips are chapped, and the glory of your skin is in the past - your beautiful skin as your mother would remark. You wonder if it’s because of its fairness or the hairless sight of it, or the chubby feeling when touched. And then you reckon the eyes of your mother are not yours. Your beauty lies in your freedom, you think to yourself. You affirm that you don’t belong here, not in this castle with grey walls, lofty ceilings, and heavy brown curtains. Not viewing ancient paintings of wars. Not on a bed for a crowd and certainly not wearing these expensive clothes too pure to smear. You recall the first day of your arrival at your new home. You were greeted by a servant who avoided your eyes as he bowed his head and sai...
Human Resources: Part 2 Mololuwa eventually returned to the mini office the following day, to fulfill all righteousness and convince herself that she had all the self-control in the world to do the right thing; who knows, luck might just shine one her. The reception room was very busy with people this time, unlike the previous day when she felt important enough to get the job, being the only one that had showed up for the interview. Now she understood why she was told to return the next day. There were youths and even grandpas present there now, all eager to get hired. They had on desperate expressions, especially the men. Mololuwa could not breathe freely anymore for the air had been choked with nervousness, desperation, anxiety and every other punitive feeling one could think of. The security guard was quite friendly this time as he smiled at her and told her not to worry about the day’s register but to go straight into the office space with the other pack of wolves who...