Logistics

Aunty Sade, the office secretary, hands Vare one nylon bag containing a Viju Apple drink and Jollof rice in a takeaway pack.

“Erm, ma, we are ten IT students.”

“And so?”

“You gave me one nylon bag ma.”

“Yes, I’m not blind.”

“But we all contributed money ma, 1K each. You said our logbooks won’t be signed if we didn’t contribute,” Vare mutters.

“Young lady, mind your speech. What do you mean by “Contribution”? Does this company look like a cooperative society to you? You and your colleagues paid administrative fees. For logistics and processing. You think it’s every company that gives their IT students farewell packages? Better be grateful,” Aunty Sade retorts, a sneer on her face.

“If they were administrative fees, why didn’t you give us receipts?” Vare murmurs.

“What did you just say?”

“Nothing. I was just asking about our logbooks. You said the Manager would have signed them by today, Friday.”

“Check back on Monday afternoon.”

“Our submission deadline is Monday 8am!” Vare replies, alarmed.

“And so?”

“You assured me they would be signed today.”

“And I’m telling you now to come back. Ṣíkènọ,” Aunty Sade adds in accented Yoruba as she returns to her typing.

***

“You’re still here? It’s like you want to sleep here,” Aunty Sade remarks, cynically, looking up from her desktop computer.

Exasperated after waiting for 3 more hours, Vare concedes, “What time on Monday afternoon ma?”