Liz couldn’t have missed the Prada Infusion d’homme . It was sharp and still strong... the Nostalgic feeling was overwhelming...and after two years it threatened to spark to life a quenched fire of love that died before it was born.
Who could this be...? This hot afternoon? She looked up to see who it was, doing little to conceal her apprehension. The client in front of her, a 3rd year Classical History Student of University of Ghana who could easily pass for a model than a historian in the making, followed her gaze to the young man who had just walked into the banking Hall.
Damn! They both thought.
He is freaking hot...Student-turned-model thought.
He is so cute and adorable Liz was thinking...
Cute he was adorable...yes indeed, hot...you could tell. Married? Yes! And very responsible and an astute insurer seen almost as a demi-god in his industry.He looked every bit like the musician Akon. His suit could have only been designed by Armani for a Hollywood star. OMG he is so cute. Both ladies we thinking to themselves.
The lady in front of Liz returned her gaze unto the business in front of her ...the transfer of money into a special savings account opened for her by her Sugar Daddy - who is a business partner of her father.
Liz was caught still staring.
“He is cute yea?” The client asked casually as if talking to the papers in front of her.
Liz returned an uneasy smile and nodded.
“Fine indeed but trust me he has all the looks of a prick” the client said with the confidence of someone who knew Mr. Cute.
Liz decided the conversation was over. She stiffened up and went about the business in front of them.
Liz looked at the watch on her PC; It was 2:24pm already and she was starving. The last time she saw food was a decade ago -compressed into a day - that was 7 hours ago. Dear lord, that is too much! She recalled the piece of god-knows-what-filling-it-was pie and a cup of instant coffee. Now she is starving and hyper.
The banking hall was choked. Why today of all days? The clients were a mixture of people from diverse backgrounds. The day had started with all indications it was going to go all smooth.
She could picture the whole scene as it started in the morning.
She was busily dealing with this piece of pie she had bought from Naa Lamley. She sells the pie; a kid who should be in school, but, no, she rather wants money and attention from young and fresh guys from the university who should accordingly pounce on her and deal with her like she [Liz] was dealing with the pie in her hands. But the boys around are not so hungry for small girls like Liz was for food.
Her facial expression was indicative the pie was not as yummy as she had wanted it. Liz is a lover of food. People love pets, books, nature; Liz Loves food. She adores food; analyses every bit of morsel earmarked for mastication with a nuclear laboratory diligence. She would eat food than waste it. It is a sin to treat food without reverence she would softly chide people when they eat half of their plates at lunch.
But Funny ha ha ha; she is the tiniest lady you could find in the entire company. Her self confidence was the same size as her physique; such irony that she made no fuss about her love for food... one thing ladies can’t publicly declare.
"Guten Morgen, Herren und Damen!" That was Mr. Okyere - Accounts Manager for Corporate Banking. The only German he could speak. A chunk of a man with a torso that could have been for a homo neanderthalis. In an unfair sense he looked more like his immediate ancestor - the Neanderthal of the late Palaeolithic Europe – the pre-cursor to the Homo sapiens.
He sauntered into his office sprinkling smiles left and right and trying hard to look like an attractive homo Sapien. He wasn’t. In fact he always gave people the bumps. What was the interpretation of those horrifying smiles? People have wondered…especially when unwarranted. Unwarranted smiles. But he was a man whose hideous appearance was compensated for by a kind heart and a gentle spirit.
Pretty Jolene. One hell of a crazy lady. She came to pass, headed toward her office; she was looking all pimped up - whoever the pimp was. Kofi Van-Dyke winked at her. She gave him a grin and discretely added the middle finger. But everyone was looking; Paul Nkansah, Joel Gyemah, Kwame Abban and more. "Oh my effing Gosh! did you see what the b**h just did?" That was Paul in his gay-ish British accent sprinkling fuel on the spark.
Well everyone heard that remark too. Soon he realized that language was not decent, Ghanaian and corporate, and ended up being more embarrassed than Kofi. The boys isolated him.
"Have you guys any idea it is past eight o'clock?" It was Charlotte. She is particularly not the pretty type, but oh-my-word everyone loves her. Charlotte is the kind of lady you would want to chat with at anytime. Anytime as in anytime. And if you want a friend with no strings attached, well then, you have her for keeps.
For the first time she is great to meet... when she is seated. You begin to scratch your head when she stands up. But ninety percent of guys who looked beyond the tiny legs, the flat bottom and the disproportionate big chest area and shoulders supporting some intimidating triceps, think she makes a good companion. And that is an objective description - A good companion.
A valedictorian of her year, 2005 UGBS, she was more than a ‘book-shark’ and a material of scholarly attributes; she also knows what'sup: Cars, computers and mobile technology, fashion, politics, sports. And she was very fluent in Pidgin English. A tomboy if you are comfortable with that description.
Then Carl. A funny character; his dress combination is always the most outrageous thing any man could do aside the killing of Abel by Cain. He has succeeded in wearying Management of bringing him to order regarding his un-corporate way of dressing. He had one thing on his mind, “Paa, Charlie when are they approving the car loans?”
Paa just shrugged. “Ask Foli, he is applying for one”
"Why, are you not applying for one?"
"Nope, I want to buy my own car with my own cash."
"Eiish! 'Too known' boy!"
" Hi Liz-Beth..." that was the Manager for Retail banking passing. God why am I surrounded by all these fine men? Liz thought to herself. This guy is fine! Liz smiled and kept smiling after him and at his closed door.... A deadline oriented man.
So bits and pieces everyone had come to work and the day had promised them a good start. It was middle of the month and therefore the expected workload was not going to be much.
So what the heck is happening? It is past 2 O’clock and clients have not given her a breathing space. From the time the watch chimed 8:30am clients have trooped in till now. And for some funny reasons they are not the usual clients! Gosh! On which side of whose bed did I wake up from this morning?
There were over 10 clients on-wait all coming to her desk. It was one of those moments she really felt very upset thinking why on earth did Magdalene allowed herself to be pregnant! Now see what she has left behind! Anyway better gone than here... spare me the, ‘you-and-your husband’ drama. You had your honey moon in The Bahamas so what? I will surely have mine in my own house! Get a mortgage and stop parking a Range Rover in a rented house!!! Gossippie Magdie
She took a cursory look at the faces; she knew 50% of them were sitting at the wrong place!
Her eyes scrolled to Farris. He is a very handsome man whose best place of work should be an old people's home cleaning the poo poo of the old folks and not to sit in the banking hall as a security man! His laziness needs to be recorded in the Guinness book of records! It’s phenomenal and of galactic proportions. Why on earth should we even give a security man a seat? He should be standing and looking out for clients and not seated watching movies on m-net and receiving calls on his pre-historic Nokia 3210!
What kind of security man does that! Anytime a client walked in, it was very likely they would walk pass him directly towards her, before he ran after them to ask what kind of services they were in for. The thing is, he sits at the door less likely to be used by clients or worse, get sucked up in one funny stuff or the other on the flat screen TV which hangs behind her. Sometimes he is just not there; he is gone to slumberland!
She needed help. The people were just too many! And what is with the air conditioners? The place felt stuffy. Oh God, She suddenly wished they had closed.
She scanned the hall if she could find Efua; just a second let-off so she could take a pee. She was nowhere in sight. She was most likely flirting her boss out of his marriage. Shameless people.
She began feeling funny...
Everyone else was busy... Busily getting busy so they won’t see they are all busy for nothing! But that was what they all were. A bunch of busy for nothings!!! Mmmtcheww!
And why all this stress after all isn’t it my national service am doing? She wanted to curse...but she knew it was not the life of a lady. She didn’t. Shut up conscience! Leave the bloody me alone! she felt like yelling!Outwardly she was smiling while wrapping off Miss Model/Historian.
The phones won’t stop ringing so she must also not stop picking them. Can I speak with this or that person? I have a problem. Can you confirm this transaction on my account for me? This is all that seem programmed in the minds of all callers; and she gets the misfortune of the calls being routed to her extension. Why not any of the other extension! What is wrong with the switchboard ladies! Trust me I don’t fancy speaking with you ladies! And if it’s my voice you want to hear, well am sorry I don’t do ladies! I have a boyfriend who is well able...
...And where is that bigheaded, big-everything dude? Won’t he call? Her boyfriend had not called the whole day. Ordinarily it would have been so un-cool, but as the pressure built she realized more and more it was good not for such a call to come or he would go ranting and raving how straight she was with him on the phone and how he felt he was being rushed off and all the sentimental trash. She was not in the mood for that. But now if there was anything she wanted to hear right now, it’s his voice. That voice. Mmm. That voice. Omg.
She was suddenly bored. She massaged her numb temple. Gosh! She sighed...When will we close?
She refused to pay immediate attention to the modestly dressed young man who took the seat in front of her.
"Good afternoon", the young man said politely and fumbled trying to get the right words to use or the right place to start.
Liz nodded in response and looked at him with that same look she had been wearing since 12 noon; expressionless. It is the most confusing thing about this young lady that mostly unsettled people; her ability to switch to the No-Expression mode. It would have been normal if she had trained as a security agent, because this seldom works in a financial institution where proper and courteous treatment of clients does a lot of selling.
The young man fumbled the more when she just sat there and looked at him. "I am George Rockson", Liz smiled partially revealing an immaculately set dental formula. The name excited her. She is a fun of anything any name English. And it also reminded her of her boyfriend. "I am a Lecturer at the Medical School" He said flawlessly.
Liz’s face did not show the respect that shot up in her. She nodded. "Please how may I be of help to you?"
She was certain the man was not intimidated by her. His initial fumbling could be due to the amount of medical crap he has been guzzling in order to feed it to the next generation of never-satisfied doctors.
But she was wrong. Prof. Rockson was very much uncomfortable. This young woman is very tired; it shows in her eyes. He was thinking. Hasn't she gone for her lunch break or something? He held his peace.
"I lost my wife and...
Oh Sorry sire. I am really... really sorry to hear.
Liz Whatsup with the niceness, He did not say, 'so I am coming to marry you.' He was giving you that info precedent to something gloomier so just shut up and listen! That was her mind talking!
"Hello Prof," Afrifa said and came over to shake the Professor’s hands; exchanged a few pleasantries and disappeared to his cocoon's nest. He is the officer in-charge of MOH account. A very great guy.
“...So I am following up on the insurance policy that was arranged for both of us here.”
“Can I have the insurance documents?”
“Here, they bear the name of the insurance company but I wanted to be sure of where to go to since it was arranged for us here.”
She directed Professor George Rockson to their Insurance desk and stole the singular privilege of watching his well built torso from the rare...damn!
Liz? Have you become this corrupt? Her conscience scolded her. Nope! I am just under stress...anything to release the tension. She justified herself...
She took a cursory glance at the Banking hall; three of the five tellers were out of their cages. The queue had built. Wow, these three cages have been empty for over 40 minutes. Just as she was returning her attention to the guy who had taken the seat in front of her, her eyes got locked on to a young lady who was looking in her direction. She looked every inch a self opinionated person who carries 6,000 tonnes tsunamic self importance about to hit the shore. It did not tell on her dressing, but it was in her eyes and mannerism.
She wore short dreadlocks and looked every inch an exposed Ghanaian. Not a Jamaican or African American; Exposed Ghanaian.
Liz quickly disconnected, but she had drawn her already and the download had commenced. Miss Self-opinionated walked to her.
“Young lady, can I speak to a supervisor here?” What???? Wake up mama! In Ghana we don't do Supervisors! I am the boss of my Desk.
“This queue is stagnant and the people here are tired of standing. Can we get some extra hands?" Liz was not really paying attention to her.
"I am talking to you young lady. Do not disrespect me.” She said mildly offended and on top of her voice. “Look at me and tell me something.”
Everyone turned to look them. They had all heard her first question and they were in agreement. Now they did not care that the woman was overly reacting, they were all tired of the bloody queue.
Suddenly all the mouths in the Banking hall started moving, the gush of noise was sudden. Anger flaring: that guy...with menacing looking moustache...what was he saying? That lady, the one with the child who has been whining since they entered and still whining...what was she raving about? The young fine Mr. Cute guy... see the way he throws his hands about...he appeared gentle than that... and this dude, all blingged and pimped up with some Gucci belt and watch against some Gucci Shirt and Shoe and some strange looking trousers...is he looking at his watch in admiration or he is pissed with the delay...nothing showing on his face except he kept looking at his watch.
Everyone was talking and it was getting loud. What the hell? She forgot all about the young man in front of her... Three people had walk out already... Oh My God, this is not good.
She was feeling very very very funny.
Three tellers suddenly appeared to fill up the empty cages.
Mr. Arthur – Head of Retail banking came of his office to assess the situation. He had a mild frown on his face. He did not look at any staff in particular, but those three tellers better have good reasons for deserting their cages for over 50 minutes.
Liz was not finding him attractive again. Tummy cramps.
Oh God why today? It was the last thing she was expecting today. Suddenly she got up without a word of excuse to the client in front of her and walked steadily towards the washroom...with her handbag... She entered a cubicle, sat on the seat, and without taking any precaution regarding her rude 'visitor', started sobbing uncontrollably...
Crying away her anger, her tiredness, her hunger, her desperation and frustration, her unexpected monthly visitor and the damned Head of HR who won’t let her be! Give in and get retained after your National service...which is two weeks away from being over...Or resist and go home to join the thousands of Graduates looking for Jobs.
I can't sell myself for employment!
Sob sob sob!
If tomorrow is judgement day
And am standing on the front line
And the Lord ask me what did I do with my life
I will say I spent it with you...
Her boyfriend’s ringtone...
Oh Baby...I need you so much now... She answered crying...
Share this with all your friends working hectic schedules...Let them see how they go thru the day thru the mind of a national service person...
Copyright 2010 PG Sebastian
All Rights Reserved
Friday, 26 August 2011
Monday, 22 August 2011
Gaddafi [Kh-a-dha-ff-i] From the Arabic Qaḏḏāfī
- 1. An eccentric person who thinks the world must revolve around him and does everything to make it so until a bigger bully comes around to stop him.
I am married to such a Gaddafi! Thank God my big brother visited us last weekend.
- 2. A person who deviates from the recognized or customary character and insist that everyone should see life in that way.
Your dad might be strict but mine is a Gaddafi; to him cellphones are not for kids under 21, no satellite TVs, the Latino tele-novellas are corrupting, sex is disgusting and certainly anything hot and sexy is from the sea! hmm smh!
- 3. An irregular, erratic and an odd conduct that has a way of forcefully changing others to conduct themselves in like manner.
My boss is a complete Gaddafi when it comes to his work ethics, yet his style gets the bloody job done.
Gaddaf ~ Verb
To act in an unconventional manner, especially in a whimsical way, and expect the world to come along.
My wife Gaddaffed me last night and made me sign a cheque for $50,000 for a new Toyota Camry; I still cannot believe how she did it!
Gaddafic ~ Adj.
Behaving in an odd abnormal and irregular way and forcing the world around to go along with you.
This country belongs to all of us in case someone has forgotten; if the people want things to go in a way they can identify with, give it to them and stop this self-centered Gaddafic attitude!
Am I the only person in this family who is not displaying this Gaddafic Behaviour?
Ghaddafically ~ adv
Having the tendency to behave in an unconventional way and insisting the world must come along because you are right.
Can you imagine Yellow Cissy, and you know who I’m talking about, gadaffically took over the party and was taking all the praise until his girlfriend’s kid sister showed up and told her to sit her little behind down and give space to the party family to rock their party…you should have seen the embarrassment her face!
The word is believed to have been coined from the embattled Libyan Leader Gaddafi (Arabic: مُعَمَّر القَذَّافِي Muʿammar al-Qaḏḏāfī. A revolutionary and political strongman. Gaddafi became head of state by removing King Idris in a bloodless coup. His nearly-42 years in power have made him the fourth longest-serving non-royal ruler since 1900, as well as the longest-serving Arab leader.
Gaddafi ruled Libya with a unique political philosophy termed the Third International Theory. His approach rejected capitalism and communism, and was based on ideals of Arab nationalism and socialism. In 1979, he stated that Libya was a direct democracy and relinquished the title of prime minister. He has since been called the "Brother Leader and Guide of the Revolution". During his rule, he took active measures to influence foreign governments, supporting paramilitary organizations. The United Nations called Libya under Gaddafi a pariah state.
Gaddafi had a strong interest in geo-political control, and was a firm supporter of OPEC. Gaddafi was the major power broker in rising world oil prices during the 1970s energy crisis. In 1998, after Arab leaders failed to support him against UN sanctions, he gave up on pan-Arabism and turned to a Pan-African campaign for a United States of Africa. After UN sanctions were imposed in 1993, Gaddafi established closer economic and security relations with the West to remove them. He cooperated with investigations into alleged Libyan acts of state-sponsored terrorism (subsequently paying compensation) and ending his nuclear weapons program, which resulted in the lifting of UN sanctions in 2003.
In early February 2011, Gaddafi's government faced major political protests following in the wake of demonstrations in Tunisia, Egypt, and other parts of the Arab world. The protests quickly turned into a civil war. Gaddafi vowed to "die a martyr" if necessary in his fight against rebels and external forces, saying that those rebelling against his government deserved to die. Since then he has lost control of most of eastern Libya, as well as large parts of the west.
On 27 June 2011 the International Criminal Court issued an arrest warrant against Gaddafi for crimes against humanity.
On 20 August, the rebellion against his rule reached Tripoli, with a large uprising taking place.
Political and cultural public image of the word
People described as Gaddafic have frequently been portrayed as erratic, conceited, and mercurial in nature. They are believed to suffer from manic depression, schizophrenia, and megalomania.
By their own estimation, Gaddafic people consider themselves as intellectuals and philosophers. They are known for their flamboyant dress sense, with strong taste for safari suits and sunglasses. They change clothing several times each day, and enjoys surrounding themselves with beautiful things and people.
Image of A Gaddafic person
Prominent People, Places and Organization the world describes as Gaddafic
Wanis al-Qaddafi (1924–1986), a Prime Minister of Libya in the period 1968-1969
Muammar Gaddafi (b. 1942), Libya's leader since 1969
Gaddafi Janjalani (more commonly transliterated "Khadafi"; 1975-2006), leader of the Filipino group, Abu Sayyaf
Gaddafi Stadium, in Lahore, Pakistan, so named in 1974
Gaddafi International Foundation for Charity Associations, established in 1998
©2011 Oxxford Dictionary 16th Edition, Rundom House Publishers; Paper Back
©2011 Collings Longmann Dictionary 28th Edition, Pimguin Publishers; Hard Back
©2011 Encartah Dictionary 11th Edition,