A Darkening Stain
“I thought for a moment I’d had my hands full of initiative but it was just sweat and soggy chinos after all. Madame Sokode wanted to talk. She’d just picked her father up from the airport where he’d flown in from London after some treatment or other she didn’t want to talk about. Now he was dispatched, she wanted to rack up some tongue miles. I didn’t have that much of a point to get to so for me dawdling with the yakety-yak didn’t seem a bad option except ... this went on for three hours.
In t...hose three hours we covered the ground Die had in fourteen seconds. We also changed location. I took her up to her new house, just recently finished, at the back of an almost American-style middle-income housing estate in Ikeja.
‘I like being near the airport,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to be down there on Vic Island a five-hour traffic jam from anywhere. The air’s better too.’ Interesting stuff.
She didn’t get to talk to too many interesting people by the sounds of things, or at them, even.MoreLess
In t...hose three hours we covered the ground Die had in fourteen seconds. We also changed location. I took her up to her new house, just recently finished, at the back of an almost American-style middle-income housing estate in Ikeja.
‘I like being near the airport,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to be down there on Vic Island a five-hour traffic jam from anywhere. The air’s better too.’ Interesting stuff.
She didn’t get to talk to too many interesting people by the sounds of things, or at them, even.MoreLess
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