no picture student
Member since May 8, 2017
  • 4 Posts


I write to you, I hope your well. Have you eaten, have you seen the bright morning the clear sky. Have you heard the people walking by, the stomping the grinding the wind around them breezing about. You have probably walked this lane yourself, gotten on a bus as well, brazed the traffic and the heat, had your dreams and goals and fallen in love as well, with the city, the madness of it all. Oooh how beautiful.

Today, I am coming to meet you. My resume is ready, I have looked at it reread every page. I have quite some skills but I had not realized that i would feel this sad, so little achievements. I know I have not yet graduated but I want to give it a try. I want to make something of myself, I want to make my father proud. Buy him a car, maybe open an auto shop, take mama on a trip and get my brother through school....

Finally, we are here, my resume ready and polished, ill add on some things on my way through life, it is life after all so many things to learn. Through a line, I await to meet you, nervous but nonetheless composed. You seem quite kind, if faces are to go by it, an older male, composed and articulate and a very sharp memory. Time seems a value of money, so instead you give me your number and ask to give you a call, maybe the curtain is about to close on this lack of employment. A new day.

Days follow, many calls go unanswered, but eventually I receive a message, relieved I text back.

Mister, my face is up here

my mind is focused, my dreams are valid

my brain is my sword

my achievements my shield

Mister, a pretty face and a strut tall and confident

wise and clear, learning through this path

a hard worker, a creative mind

wits and strength.

Mister, don't ask me to come to your place

have some principles

Mister, if you had a daughter

would you be happy to hear that.

Yes, I am a woman, beautiful that's true but you deny me a life because you cannot see that mind, that future, that plan that i have, that hard work I will put in my work. I refuse to beg you, to play along, to subject myself to being a puppet on a string. After all I breathe walk and live and my will is my own.

Thank you for the opportunity, I will make it any other way.

Yours faithfully,

Bernice Nkirote,

comments powered by Disqus