She walked into the bank hall, with her pointed
shoes announcing her arrival minutes before I
saw her.
She wore that kind of dress that convinces you
that heaven is missing an angel.
The aroma of her perfume would make you easily
finish a bowl of eba for its sweetness.
And the phone which she gingerly held to her
ear, without minding the security guy that was
waving frantically at her that calls are not
allowed in bank hall, will cost a small fortune.
She stepped forward, picked a deposit slip and
searched frantically for a pen.
About five guys offered her their pens but she
took mine, maybe because I was closer to her.
After a while, or a long while because time stood
still, she stood up and inched closer to me.
I was sweating like a pregnant fish and huffing
and puffing like a Monitor lizard.
She whispered, "Please can you spell 'thirty' for
me?"
I looked down at her deposit slip in surprise.
She had written, 'Tarty Tausan'!
funkeee"!!!
ayemi temi bami!!!!!!!
