The interview

The interview
By onuzulike somtochukwu


I woke with a start! My body and sheets covered in sweat. I blinked trying to readjust my eyes to the darkness. Same dream again, three nights in a row.
Should I be worried? Scared? I hurriedly knelt down and prayed quickly, as I struggled to stand electricity came on.. NEPA!  I screamed inwardly, out of habit than actual happiness.
I walked slowly to the study table and picked up my cell phone, 4.45 am! Same time yesterday and the day before. How weird can this get? I glanced at the antique clock on the wall to make sure it’s in sync with the time on my cell phone.  Yes it is! I walked back and lay gently on my bed letting my thoughts wander.
Two years ago I was just a young girl with dreams, now am very close to achieving those dreams and finally be able to give my mother a life she deserves. Only if I can be able to get this job I was shortlisted for, a medical laboratory specialist in CIKA; a well known international drug manufacturing company. The job comes with its own perks, a huge salary, free two months training in Japan and after 9 months as an employee an all expense paid trip to any country of your choice once every year!  Exciting! but why these dreams? The interview is barely a week away and I have been lucky enough to be one of the applicants shortlisted for the position. All my life I wanted to make a difference, become somebody and show my family that a female child mattered as much as a male one. I studied hard because of this, excelled in all examinations with honors, graduated top of my class and jilted men because I needed no distractions.  Now I’m at the verge of achieving everything I worked so hard for.
 Electricity went off, bringing me back to earth. I sighed and turned on the rechargeable torchlight.
“This country is a mess” I murmured to myself, and slowly I dozed off.



                                       *                                    *                                   *
 I’d always loved Saturdays. The smell of washing powder, antiseptics, freshly laundered clothes, and the sound of music from the 90’s. Everything about Saturdays! But this one seemed different. It was hot, interviews were usually held Mondays or at least weekdays. Why Saturday?  Images of what I could be doing floated in my head. I quickly urged myself to focus. I can’t be distracted today of all days; the long awaited interview day. The interview that gave me chronic anxiety which in turn resulted to constant nightmares.
 “Here we go” I said to myself and walked briskly through the entrance of the huge grand building.  I have never been here, the first two interviews were held in a conference video call. The first tiny niggle of fear crept up my spine, I quickly dismissed it. I made straight for the reception, a young attractive woman probably in her late twenties, was seated at the reception.
“Good morning ma’am” she said. Smiling brilliantly as I approached.
“Good morning” I replied and tried my own version of her smile.
“How may I help you?” she queried.
“I’m here for an interview” I replied, trying not to be intimidated by her superior composure.  How can a mere receptionist exude such powerful aura I mused?
“An interview? She asked, with surprise.
“Name please?” She asked further.
“Eugenia Ekwueme” I replied.
She stared into her computer for a while.
“Umm your name is here alright but you’re visiting the MD, not an interview” she said quickly, then picked a black object.
“Smile if you wish” she added yet again.  I immediately realized what the black object was, I smiled and the flash blinded me momentarily. An awkward silence ensued as I stood there waiting in total confusion. After two minutes that seemed like an eternity, she looked up with another dazzling smile.
 “Here” she said handing me an instant identification card.
“Wear it at all times till you leave the building” she said softly
 “And take the elevator to the last floor”.
“Thank you” I replied hastily pinning the I.D to my shirt and walked to the elevator. The elevator was empty; I pressed the button for the last floor and watched the door close.
What did she just say? No interview? Visiting the MD? There must be a mix-up somewhere.  I straightened my shirt in an effort to compose myself. What does she mean by visiting? Hian! I quickly said the Lord’s Prayer as I stepped off the elevator. The last floor was busier than the ground floor; they were two men in laboratory white coats and nose masks wheeling a cart full of chemicals into the opposite elevator.
“Excuse me” I called.
“Hey!’”I called again.
The taller one stopped and stared at me, then back at his colleague and then right back at me. At this point I felt like poor Alice in wonderland.
“I was wondering if you could point me towards the conference room or MD’s office”  I said.
 “I’m here for an interview”
He pointed to a glass door and went back to his business of wheeling the cart, before I could say thank you.  I walked to the glass door and opened. I found myself in another large room that looked like a waiting room.
 A small weasel like woman was seated behind a huge mahogany desk.
“Good morning ma”  I said rather too loudly and cringed inwardly at my own voice.
*silence*
“Good morning ma!’’
“Ehn what?” She blurted.
“I’m here for an interview” I replied.
 Ignoring her rather rude demeanor
“Interview for what?” she questioned.
“I applied for the position of a medical laboratory specialist in this company ma!” I answered exhaustingly.
She laughed or rather she croaked.
“Why is oga doing this” she said more to herself than me, laughing harder and choking. I stood utterly confused and wondering what all the drama was about. Then the piercing sound of a telephone interrupted the woman’s horrible laughter. She picked up the receiver instantly.
“Yes sir”
“Ok sir”
She dropped the receiver and glanced at me, sizing me up.
 “You can go in” she said pointing towards the door.
The room seemed even larger than the waiting room. There was a huge picture of the president on the wall, sophisticated wood flooring, a huge screen showing the previous room and the small woman. I took in everything in one glance; the office had personality, though it is more masculine than feminine.
The MD backed me.  Even with his back turned he seemed imposing, big, cocky, confident.
“Don’t you just love Lagos” he said, still looking out the huge glass window.
“Yes sir, it is a fine city” I replied.
“Though am more than willing to relocate to any state, if need be” I continued, glad that finally I could get this interview over and done with.
“What of Belarus? Would you easily relocate?” he asked again. There was something oddly familiar about his voice, but did he just say Belarus?
“Belarus?”  I asked shocked.
 “Yes Belarus” he said, turning to face me fully.
I gulped! My blood turned cold!
I was in shock!
“Don’t answer hastily” he said with a wave of his hands.
“Take your time, new country, new friends, possibly new family” he said smiling mischievously.
“ Saleh okenwa, managing director CIKA Nigeria , please sit” he said with another wave of hand.