“Emeka!” his mother called from the front of the house, interrupting his counting.
“Ma!” he answered, listening.
“You have a visitor o!”
“Okay I am coming,” he replied, but didn’t move yet. He was counting how much he had to start up a cement-selling business. He had it all planned out: he would start small, buying ten bags the first time, and then growing from there. He had fourteen thousand naira, just a little above the price for ten bags.
Putting away the money, he quickly went to see who was looking for him.
The first thing he saw when he opened his door was a black BMW parked at the end of the compound.
Whose car was this?
Immediately he stepped out, he was greeted with a shout.
“Emeka my main man!”
Onyeka.
What was Onyeka doing here? How did he know my house? Is that his car?
All these questions swirled round Emeka’s head as he replied the greeting with less enthusiasm.
“Is that you car?” he asked Onyeka immediately they sat down under the tree.
“One of them,” came the reply. “I have three cars and I am here because I have a business proposal for you.”
“This cannot be good,” Emeka thought. He knew Onyeka right from his university days, and he has never being someone described as good, hard working, or honest.
After listening to Onyeka speak, he was proven right.
Having forgotten how crowded the cities could be, Emeka was temporarily dazed as he walked through the streets looking for the address he had gotten from his former boss.
He left his house quite early-- before the break of dawn-- so he could get to the company early enough to be attended to politely. He noticed how people hurried along, and wished he had some job which he had to hurry to as well, instead here he was hoping to become a cement seller.
His mind went back to Onyeka’s visit and offer. He shook his head at how the visit had ended. Onyeka invited him to join his drug peddling business, telling him he bought his first car after his first trip.
He refused instantly, though it was a tempting offer.
Onyeka had raised dust as he drove away angrily, after telling him that he always knew he was destined to be poor. He has to prove him wrong.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the company. He walked into the building and went to the section that belonged to the cement company. His first impression was that the place was poorly managed. The gate was almost falling of its hinges, the office area was untidy with litter at every corner. The reception was left unattended, but he heard sounds of laughter coming from the inner room. Walking to the direction of the room, hoping to see someone who would attend to him, he interrupted a man and a woman in a position that was obviously not for the office place. They were so engrossed that they didn’t notice his arrival.
He was so angry that he didn’t think twice before interrupting their immorality. People were searching for jobs, and here were some people who had jobs which they don’t regard.
“Excuse me! Excuse me! Can I please get someone to attend to me?” he asked, not hiding his anger.
“Go... Goo... Good morning Sir,” the lady stammered as she rushed passed him, buttoning up her blouse and going to her seat at the reception. So she was the receptionist? Interesting.
Clearing his throat and sitting on the chair behind the table which would have obviously served as a bed if Emeka had come in minutes later, the man which seemed to be the manager looked Emeka in the eye and asked “How may we help you?”
Emeka took his time before giving an answer. He just stared at the man, hoping to make him feel uneasy since he had just been caught having sex with the receptionist in a place that was supposed to serve as an office for someone else’s business. A business for which he was employed to provide a service.
The man was obviously not affected by Emeka’s stare as he repeated the question.
“How may we help you Sir?”
The ‘Sir’ attached was not intended to denote respect, instead it was to remind Emeka that he was here for a business and should mind exactly that, his business.
Getting the message, Emeka shrugged. “I want to ask the process to be taken before one can sell your product.”
“Well there are levels in the distribution chain. We have the person who buys straight from the company, and sells to depots, these level buy in lorries. The depots buy up to two hundred to five hundred bags, and sell to shops. Those who have shops buy up to fifty, and just want to sell to individuals with little projects. What determines your level is the amount of bags you want to buy. So how many bags are we looking at?” the man asked, already bring out the catalogues to explain further.
“I am thinking of starting small with maybe ten bags,. Then I hope to...”
“Ten what?” the man asked, interrupting Emeka
“Ten bags, from there I increase my purchase,” Emeka explained, wondering why the man was frowning.
“So why are you here?” the manager asked.
“I came to make inquiries.”
“So because of ten bags of cement and inquiries you rudely interrupted me, and looked at me like you were the one who gave me the job?”
“Rudely? I don’t understand. What is so wrong in making inquir...”
“Get out of my office now!” the manager screamed at Emeka, interrupting his question. “Get out I said.”
“You are chasing me out of the office because I interrupted you? Are you for real?”
“Mr. Man. If I count five and you are still here, you will regret it. One!”
“Young man calm down. It has not gotten to...”
“Two!”
Emeka knew the man was serious when he stood up and came towards him. “Three!”
Emeka stood up and headed towards the door. He hated violence and didn’t want to get beaten. The manager was quite big, weighing at least 20kg more than Emeka, and he was also at least five inches taller.
“This is a wrong way to treat a customer.”
“Four!” he was almost meeting up with Emeka.
Emeka ran out, afraid and embarrassed, not remembering that he left his phone on the table, the receptionist’s laughter following him out.
“Interesting!” Emeka thought as he walked back to the park, feeling harassed. He could not believe his experience, in fact he could not understand what really annoyed the manager.
“Wonders shall never end. One day, he would meet someone stronger that he is,” he muttered as he got to the park.
Walking straight to the building for tickets, he joined the queue for the bus going back to Obollo.
He reached for his phone in his trouser pocket to inform his mother that he was on his way, when its absence reminded him that he left it on the table.
“Oh no, no, no!” he exclaimed as he left the queue. He cold not leave without his phone, and he didn’t want to have a repeat experience with the manager.
Walking slowly back to the mismanaged office, he felt awful. This was not how he planned his day to be. He only wanted a source of livelihood, that was all he was in search for.
It was not yet 9am and his day was already pitiful. He didn’t know what else to think about life. Was he wrong in trying to be honest?
He had had enough, maybe he should look for a way to get Onyeka’s number.
Getting to the cement company’s office, he knocked on the gate since the receptionist was absent again, maybe back with the manager in his office.
“What do you want again? She asked as she appeared, straightening her clothes again.
“I left my phone on the table.”
Laughing, she went back to alert her lover who came out frowning. “You will wait till 12 O'clock before I give it to you. Next time you won’t waste someone’s time. Nonsense.”
Emeka knew he meant it.
