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25nd April 2013 Doc is becoming pettier by the day. Yesterday, she had overheard me compliment a colleague’s makeup in the hallway. Today I noticed she had gone a step further than lipstick. Her eyebrows were plucked and defined, she had a little powder on and some blush. “Makeup looks very good on you,” I said when had time to ourselves. “Really?” She asked looking up at me. I could see how pleased she was. I wanted to hold her. I wish I could make her look that way everyday for the rest of her life. I love this woman! “Yes. You look very beautiful; your facial features are perfect. By the time you become a makeup pro, you will make men drive into each other if you decide to take a stroll”. “What about you?” she asked, “will I make you drive into anyone?” I looked her over and smiled. 4th May 2013 I woke up to the beep of my phone this morning. That was some six minutes past Nine. It was Doc. “Ego, do you have any plans for today? The Wii system I ordered just came in. I need to try it out with someone”. What the hell is a Wii system? I did not bother asking. Doc wants me in her house. That’s the message. I got her address and rushed into the bathroom. Wii turned out to be a game console complete with VR video games for fitness. She wanted us to do the dance revolution. My first proper date! Dear diary, I am not a fan of rigorous dance, but I really had fun today. I watched her every time she faulted in any particular dance move, how she would throw her head back and laugh. Sometimes she held me to keep from tripping and when I had more points, she feigned annoyance. To me, relationships always started and ended with sex. This feels different. I've never felt this way before. After about 45 minutes of dancing and sweating, we were exhausted. I had my bath and changed into some cloths she had laid out while she heated up some leftover food for brunch. When I was done getting dressed, she got in the shower as I looked through some books in her impressive bookcase. I like that she is a vast reader. It was a while before I realised the shower had stopped running. I looked up and there she was, the woman of my dreams standing in all her glory. “The things a warm bath can do to your muscles,” she said as she walked across the room to sit on the edge of her bed. “Amazing, but not as amazing as an actual kneading would be.” I smiled in agreement. I refused to take a cue. “Well, I am sure you know one or two things about massaging,” Doc urged on. I was scared that if I moved, the wetness between my legs would be like a woman whose water broke. Somehow, I got to the bed. She lay face down and I shifted the towel to her lower back and began to knead that perfect body. She didn’t stifle her moans. The sound was beautiful to my ears. The towel was not there anymore, I do not know how. I only know that touching those beautiful legs almost brought tears to my eyes. Doc turned around to lie on her back and pulled me down to a warm kiss. My hand strayed to her breast. They were fuller than I had imagined. I played with her nipples and finally took one in my mouth. She let out a gasp, then a whimper that spurred me on. I kiss her as my hands found the paradise between her legs. Such wetness. I wondered what she would taste like. I got off Doc and positioned myself between her legs. I caressed every part of her bud, admiring the rich contrast between her dark skin and her pink inner labia. I wanted to feel that p**sy on mine, but I didn’t think she was ready for all that. It was not about me today. With my lips covered her clitoris, she gave another whimper and held my head, muttering sweet nothings. I like to watch the contracting of a vagina during orgasm. When I noticed she was getting there, I pulled out my head from her grasp and continued with my finger, pulling the labia covering the clit back with my left hand, I worked with the right index finger and watched until she came. It was beautiful; I don’t know which was more, the expression on her face or her pulsating vagina. I kissed her bud then her inner thighs until they didn't tremble any more. We've been all over each other the whole day. As I write this, I watch her sleep. I know I am in trouble. Eventually, the reality of our society dawns on us. It always does. I can't be selfish. I would let her remarry if she wanted and have a family. We might still be lovers, but I know I will always be second place. I am real big trouble, one I do not regret.

Small eyes peered back at me through the full-length dressing mirror. I didn’t like what I saw, ‘too dressed up’ she would surely think so, I cooed to myself. I stooped, slipped both hands under the black bodycon dress and pulled it off me. I flung it to the bed where a red hip hugging knee-length skirt laid alongside a white chiffon top and blue jumpsuit, all of which I had tried on and taken off after deciding I would look too dressed up in them. At this point, it dawned on me that the contents of my wardrobe needed a total refurbishment, it was the only consolation I could give to my indecisiveness. After three more clothes donned and pulled off, I finally settled for a black slim-flare full length pant and multicoloured sleeveless crop top, ‘aha! this is more like it’. In no time, I was out of the house heading to the agreed meeting point. Because I took a motorcycle down to the venue, I made a conscious effort to fluff my hair which was now all over my face. ‘Damn!’ I cursed while inwardly making a solemn promise to buy a car with the first real money I come upon. By now, I knew she was running out of patience given the three calls I deliberately missed from her, so as I hurried towards the Republic of Chicken, I quickly noted that I was a bit nervous. What is wrong with you Itohan, get your head in the game and quit acting like a scared virgin. My breathing had intensified, I wasn’t feeling any better, this is not good, suddenly, a brilliant thought took flight, I retrieved my phone from my hand bag and dialled Momsi’s digits. She answered on the second ring and heaving a sigh of relief, I walked into the eatery while talking to my mom about an irrelevant matter on the phone. There she was, sitting in a corner searching the faces of customers walking into the eatery. I noticed her first and made towards her. She smiled and my heart melted when i noted her blue eyes. I knew they were lenses but damn! They suit her so well. I quickly decided that I would ask her to never take them off when we eventually start seeing each other. I mouthed, “I’m sorry” as I took a seat opposite her and continued with my phone call. That was my chance to study her flamboyant façade so I ran my eyes from her hair locked in dread to her blue eyes again, we held our gaze for a second and I continued to her lips covered in red, down to her full blown chest, I let my eyes rest there for a while before going down to her stomach where the rest of her body became invisible from the obstruction of the table between us. Assessment done, I dismissed Momsi with the promise to call her back, and turned to Brume, “hi” I said, with a smile planted on my pretty face. Oh yes! I am a good looking woman in her late twenties, you can’t tell me nothing about my looks. “hey” she said “Sorry I had to take that call, it was my mom” “It’s fine” she replied “Why aren’t you eating yet?” “I was waiting for you” Aww! That’s sweet, “Okay, let’s go order something”. We ordered moin moin and chicken plus coke. “Is Maya your real name?” she asked “errm” my cheeks were flushed knowing fully well that it would be impossible to keep up with that lie now that we are meeting face to face. “No, my name is Itohan” “Did you have to lie about your name?” “I dunno, guess I just wasn’t sure we were ever going to finally take the conversation off the social media” “Oh well, it’s just a name you know.” “I know. Sorry I lied” So, we chatted while we ate and soon, it was time for me to leave as I had somewhere else to go from there. Brume and I walked out of the eatery, we bade our goodbyes and walked in opposite directions. As I rode in a bus towards the Island, a tremor of uncertainty lurched in my guts. It was a pleasant date, but somehow, I had a feeling that was going to be our first and last meeting. It didn’t seem like she liked me as much as I liked her. “Please God, make her see me again,” I prayed.

As her lips explored every edge of mine, with her big palms cupping my 36 C sized boobs, my mind was playing tricks with me, instead of getting my head in the game and savour every moment with my girlfriend of 13 months, my vagabonding mind chose to note irrelevant constants about Toju like her minty breath, her soft succulent lips, her small rounded nose, her hazel eyes which not many Nigerians obviously have… She deepened the kiss and I parted my lips even more to encourage her despite the fact that I wasn’t feeling any of it. Toju is a terrible kisser.*Was* maybe, as she had gotten better with time compared to how horrible she was when we first started, with her tongue lapping the whole of my face like a dog, submerging it in saliva. It had taken tutorials from me to get her ameliorated. My hands went to grab her bum, the very feature that first arrested my attention. The way it filled out the seat of her pants, spreading out in curves and highlighting every edge, swinging from side to side had beckoned to me in an inaudible “come to me Livia” and I had gone. Sensing my straying mind, Toju rolled over, taking me with her so that I am on top straddling her. But I was too lost to even make love to her. She was fondling my funbags, still trying to encourage me, I dropped small kisses on her face as her hand slowly worked its way down to my navel, to my mound with thicket of hair and then into my v.jay and the hand stopped moving. For 20 seconds it remained still inside me while her eyes burning with hurt drilled holes inside my apologetic ones, For all the time that we've spent in foreplay, there wasn’t a drop of wetness in me. Gradually, she withdrew, pushed me off her and went straight to the bathroom without a word. “Who is she?” She asked me after spending well over 15mins in the bathroom. I sensed she may have been crying when she came back to bed. I could choose to pretend not to understand her question, but I’d be making her more angry by feigning ignorance. So I said “I'm sorry, baby I truly am”. Toju isn’t one to talk too much, she simply turned her back to me in an inaudible “good night”. No, the night was far from good, it was indeed the longest and agonizing of all, with me turning and tossing and her sniffing and whimpering until first light. Looking at our faces in the morning while she packed her things, you would think we had just finished participating in the Lagos Marathon. The look in her eyes while she walked out the door, was priceless, though she said nothing to me, but I could feel the love dissipate and in replacement, unquantifiable hatred. I just broke a heart, the heart that had given me nothing but love. That was 6 months ago, now standing before the mirror with a black eyed face staring back at me and a naked Jezebel in my bed, thinking about all that went down, the only conclusion I could reach for my predicament is karma. I was with Toju for 13 months and not one day did we fight, but since the first week with this Jezebel, fighting was all we did. How I ended up losing the best thing that ever happened to me because of a devilish lust for ‘Karashika' remains unfathomable. All I could say was that the forces that conjoined to do this to me very well succeeded.. but mama always said that mistakes happen so we can learn. I made a mistake and I want to make it right because I have learned. So, summoning every courage, I left a note for Jezebel, telling her I was done and needed her out of my apartment before I got home from work… Surprisingly, she left. I had expected her to revolt, but I guess she thought her own way of making me pay superseded any resistance, NO, it didn't. The 32inches LCD TV that she broke, the wardrobe she emptied, the iPad she took, the international passport she shredded, and the little change she took didn’t supersede me getting back my freedom and life. The next day, I went in search of my lost love. In the times that I was with Toju, I didn’t do much visiting, perhaps two or three times and it had been on her invitation. She preferred us staying at my place and always pointed out how small and cozy it is as against her large and uncomfortable one. As I drew near the estate gate, my heart became an untamed betrayal with a thump thump thump palpitation that formed danceable rhythm to my ears. What would I say to her? How would she look at me? These questions tugged at me as I brought my car to a halt right in front of her house... Brace up Livia, what’s the worse that can happen? She would slam the door in your face, NO, spit on you, NO, empty a bucket of water on you, NO, empty of jug of urine on you, MORE LIKE IT.. Three seconds after pressing the door bell, a lanky man suspected to be in his fifties but with boyish look answered. “Good evening sir, I’m here to see Toritseju” “Errmm.. who are you?” “Livia, we are friends” “Are you really?” What was he asking? Am I really friends with Toju? What kind of question is that? “Toju passed last month. All her friends were at the funeral” A tremor of uncertainty began in my belly and spread out into my limbs. Reminding myself that it was April 1st, and it’s highly possible that this stranger was making a fool out of me, I burst into uncontrollable laughter, “kwakwakwakwakwakwa” But this was a very expensive joke, people Should be banned from playing these April 1st pranks.. The stranger gawped at me in obfuscation When I was able to catch my breath, I said “please sir don’t play April Fools day with me” “What kind of a person uses death as prank? You think I’d go about telling people my wife is dead to make jokes? Please get the hell out of here” and so, my first premonition of Toju slamming the door in my face happened after all, only that in this case, she didn’t slam it, HER HUSBAND did.” As I lay in bed that night thinking that how I drove home would forever remain a mystery, my eyes burned with incipient tears. I never did understand what people mean when they say life is cruel until now, perhaps it’s because I never lost anyone before. Three days dragged by in millipede steps, work forgone, food nauseating and my life crashing before my eyes. On the fourth day, because I had run out of excuses, I reluctantly got dressed for work. As I wasn’t in the mood for anything high, I turned my back to my favourite stilettos and settled for loafers. Slipping my left leg in the moss green shoe, I felt a barrier between my toes, so I tapped the shoe on the floor and out came a piece of paper. Because I wasn’t in the habit of leaving things in my shoes, I became interested in seeing the contents of the paper. What I read sent me reeling back onto the bed and without realising it, all the junks I had managed to hold down the past two days came spewing out of my mouth, my head became light and my chest tightened. In oblivion, my hand found my cellphone and the rest, I can’t remember. When I came to, I found myself in a hospital bed, I had just survived a heart attack, I should be grateful and happy perhaps, but happiness will forever elude me. Everything and everywhere hurt but I couldn’t say what hurt most. Is it that the girl I dated for 13 months was married to someone old enough to be her father and I had not the slightest clue, or that she had colon cancer and hid it from me, or that she didn’t think she had much time to live, yet never mentioned it or that she is finally dead.. She didn’t have to tell a piece of paper that she married an old man who was based in the US as a second wife just to save her family from financial crisis or that she met me just after she found out she was sick, she certainly didn’t have to tell a paper that her life suddenly felt normal again because she met me hence, afraid to talk about her impending death for fear that she might scare me away, NO, she should have told me not a paper hidden in my shoe.. Like I said, I don’t know what hurt most, but I do know that life would never be the same because I boke a heart and now I’m broken.

20th April 2013 07:35 PM I’d rather spend my Saturday morning sleeping and listening to music when I am not working. That is not going to be the case today. Today is the office getaway. 11:00 PM Welfare committee had settled for a dinner party. Fine by me. I did not have a date, my best friend Emeka had his girlfriend over for the weekend and so I could not invite him to be my date. Luckily for me, Cynthia my bosses secretary did not have a date either so we were stuck with each other the rest of the evening. I overheard the office gossips saying Doc has never attended any of such outings. This is exactly why I was surprised to see her in the hall. I went over with the secretary to briefly say hello to my HOD. We didn’t talk much in public. She preferred to keep our closeness away from prying eyes of colleagues. She still preferred to be seen as the bad cop director who did not fraternize with employees. I had no issues with that. Her response was curt. Part of the act I guess. 22nd April 2013 I did not expect what I was confronted with at work today. When I opened my HOD’s door, her eyes were a blazing furnace. “Is it really?” was her reply to my Good morning. “Of all people to pick as your date and flirt the whole evening away with, my secretary? How could you? It did not even bother you that I was right there!” I was taken aback for a minute. So that was it. The curt reply was not the act I felt it was. If I did not know better, I would say it was lovers quarrel. “Are you that randy? You didn’t even care that I was right there!” she continued in an angry muffled voice. “Really Doc? Really? What on earth is so wrong about conversing with another girl who like me did not have a date for the evening? Are you really going to be jealous over something like that?” “Oh pls Ego! You cannot really think I am jealous. I cannot be bothered about what you do with your life. f***k every girl in the office. Just don’t let it interfere with your work!” She had regained a little composure and assumed her regal posture behind her desk. I braced off for a wave of dismissal, none came. We proceeded to work. We were having clients over by 1 pm. Halfway into the discussion there was another muffled outburst, “Is that how easily you move on?” She ignored my pleading gaze and countenance. By now, I was sure it was a very intense lover’s fight. “So what I said I am not into women? could you not at least respect me and not rub any girl in my face for up to three months?” … “It’s not as if I care, or as if anything will ever happen between us, but I expect some level of mutual respect.” I wanted to shut her up with a kiss, but I was not about to make up her mind for her. I know what is happening. The internal conflict going on within her; being from a very religious background. The denial of being attracted to me, the denial of being jealous, the denial of loving a woman. I will not make up her mind for her with a kiss. That is the easy way out. I will let her go through the stages of self-realisation up to the point of acceptance. And even after that, I will give her a little more time to realise that this is a turn of a lifetime.

5th April 2013 It has not been an easy week at work. I have been very mad at myself. I have played the 1st of April over and over in my head with different approaches and different possible outcomes. I am exhausted. I’ve felt listless every morning since then. Debriefing every day after work with Doc is monotonous. I noticed she reverted to not wearing lipstick. Maybe she trashed it. Good for me. it is Friday and I have decided the mourning ends today. I guess Doc made similar decision; when I got to work she called me to her office. “I should not judge you for your sexual preferences,” she said the moment I closed the door behind me. I let her continue. “I miss us being friends and the healthy diet you placed me on. I know you are grown up enough to know that every relationship must not be sexual. I am sorry for the outburst.” She paused, obviously for a reaction. I let her continue. “You know this is awkward for me right? Please say something.” “Sandy peach lipstick looks good on you.” I could not think of anything better to say. I was pleased. “I thought you trashed it.” She gave a hearty laughter. "How on earth?” When I left her office, I decided I was going to be respect her wishes. I am in love no doubt. I always tell myself the truth. I am in love with my HOD but openly declaring my love for her is out of it. When you love someone, you are happy that they are happy even if you aren’t the source of their happiness. 19th April 2013 It has been two weeks I wrote last. I and my HOD are back to normal. I have tried to avoid any kind of stare or gaze that would make her feel uncomfortable. I am gifted at surreptitious gazes. She is oblivious of all my stares. I have also avoided paying her any form of compliments. I did not want to be misunderstood. Today she had on a patterned marron red gown. It accentuated all her curves. I wanted to say something but didn’t. “This is my first time putting this gown on. I don’t think anything red looks good on me.” I paused sorting some files in her cabinet and looked her over, “red is flattering on you. Maybe you will get bolder with time and try on pepper red.” I have noticed she calls me into her office these days at any slightest excuse. Today it was to get out the file we worked on yesterday. There is a secretary for that, but I have decided to not react. “Does it match my lipstick? Lilac. I wanted something as quiet as the dress.” I paused. Is it me or is she desperately fishing for compliments? “You really are a vision Doc. Cool colors are all your lips want no matter what you wear. Your innocent look doesn’t call for vampie lips.” “Vampie as in vampire? You mean red and black lipsticks, right?” “Yes Doc.” I try not to have sexual fantasies about her anymore. I am just going to imagine kissing her lips tonight until I fall asleep tonight. Just that, nothing further.

14th May 2013 My mind is playing strange tricks on me. I went to bed last night thinking of when last I kissed a girl. I thought of trying out every single colour in the lipstick set on Doc. Kissing each off before I tried on the next. I fantasized about different flavours off her lips: vanilla, chocolate, honey... I rebuked such thoughts from my mind as I remembered my promise to my mother. Never to give in to the works of the devil. Sigh! Ever since mum found out that I am a lesbian, it has been one emotional blackmail after the other. One prayer house after the other. I got physically and mentally exhausted, I caved in and admitted to being delivered. I even gave a testimony in our close knit prayer group. I was celebrated. I have never been as depressed as I was that period. She blamed my father for sending me to school in the UK. She would always end up with, “they come back with all sorts of nonsense!”. I didn’t bother telling her that I already had all sorts of nonsense before I left for the UK. If providence has decided that UK will take the blame, who am I to say otherwise? When I saw Doc at work today, my heart skipped a beat. I stuttered when she asked me a question. For the first time I truly looked at her. She had on a dress made of blue Ankara gown and matching hijab. Was that silk? I don’t know. I am not good at recognising materials. She should be 5’5” ? Dark skinned. Under her dress and Hijab, I could see tell-tale signs of voluminous breasts. The way her dress flared at her hips was indication that Doc is a well endowed woman. Dr. Fauziya Adam is a beautiful woman who seemed oblivious of the fact that she is beautiful. *** 15th May 2013 I woke up today feeling very elated. I had slept off last night fantasizing about my HOD. I had flash fantasies of her longs legs flying around in the air as she pleaded with me never to do to another woman the things I do to her. I want her. I am going to have her. I made fruit salad this morning. There was something different about this one. Don’t ask me what Diary, I will come to that. Okay, what the heck! I took it to work today. I always feel bold until I get to her door. “What is this Miss Ego?" she asked when I brought out the flask from the bag in which I brought it to work and presented it to my Muse. “It is nothing serious Doc. Just fruit salad.” “What on earth? Did nobody tell you that we aren’t running a kitchen here? This is an office….” “Where living humans work, where every one has lunch but you!” I interrupted. She gave me a shocked look. “This should be the last time you cut in when I am speaking. Is that clear?” she said in a calm voice that would have sent chills down anyones spine. “Most definitely Doc. Please accept my most sincere apologies. Its just that you look exhausted by the time its close of work. I felt you do not have to work so hard and eat only twice a day assuming you have breakfast. I will make sure this doesn’t happen again.” She gave the wave of dismissal and despite my burning anger and humiliation, I couldn’t help but to admire her dainty fingers. Oh well, I refuse to lose my job over a piece of fine ass. I give up! I was about to turn the door knob when I heard something that made my skip several beats. “Let me see what you made.” 1st April 2013 Believe anything I tell you today. Happy April Fools day. These past weeks, I doubled up as chef and dietitian. I now take the lunch packs to Doc during her break time. We discuss work as she eats. Still the professional. No second is to be wasted. If she were a man, it could have easily been branded office romance by anyone observing. In between work discussions, personal conversations began to creep in. Few days back, I got to find out that one of her greatest fears was being overweight. I didn’t see the sense in that. A few here and there would actually look good on her. But then, who am I to question Milady’s desires? That’s how I became a dietitian. Today, I got to know about her divorce after being married to a much older man at the bequest of her parents. I wanted to know why an educated and accomplished woman as Doc would let that happen to her. She shrugged. Maybe its time for that bold step. As she ate today, I stared. I could not talk. How do you know what to say to a woman like this? Probably up to twelve years my senior at age and at the Bar. Freaking cat got my tongue. “You seem quiet. What is the problem?” her beautiful eyes where searching. “Trouble at home?” “No. Its just, how is a beautiful woman like you single” Jeez, that was lame. Of all things to say. Time stood still. “You think I am beautiful?” “You are almost ethereal. I am scared to touch you, thinking you will disappear. If I asked to touch your face, would you deem that unprofessional?” She stared at me for a while, “I am not into women.” "I have noticed how you gaze at me, all the attention you gave me, but I just did not want to make assumptions". “That’s all right Doc. I am very sorry about my behaviour.” She still had that calm look. “So this is what all this has been all about? You caring about my health blah blah blah!” My heart sank. “Just because you wanted some lesbian action.” “I am sorry you feel this way Doc. I didn’t ever imagine being that way with you.” (I know that’s a lie but I cannot help it now) “I only wanted you to know that I care very deeply for you, I might be a lesbian but it has all been platonic to me.” Goodness! I am blabbing. “you are not even afraid,” she went on. “This is Nigeria! It did not cross your mind that this could affect your job? That I could be homophobic?” “I am very sorry Ma” “Don’t call me that!” “I am sorry Doc. Please excuse me. Your break time is over. If this is going to affect my job, I would not be as bothered as I would be about it affecting our friendship. If you can, forget this ever happened and we can go back to being friends. If the lunch I bring now disgusts you now, I will put an end to it.” “Now that is so rude!” she was pacing already. She sat down and gave the wave of dismissal. Its been ages. I deserve it.

7th May 2013 As I got ready for work and packed my lunch for today, I kept muttering a prayer to God to see me through the day, and the remaining four months before I leave for studies in Witwatersrand, SA. The moment I sorted out my table, my next port of call was my HOD. I knocked softly on her door and stepped in. As usual, she leafed through sheets of documents as I answered questions she had about the department and our correspondence with other departments. I looked at her lips, no lipstick. She doesn’t use them! I nearly boxed myself. When she was done, I got my little packet from where it was hidden under my files and said, “happy birthday Doc”. “What’s that?” finally an eye contact. “Just a gift, I heard it’s your birthday today.” “Oh! I see, did nobody tell you that we do not do this here?” “I was told Doc, I was just passing by the gift shop in my neighbourhood and spotted it on display.” She gave me a look, I don’t know what it was. “Thank you, drop it in that bag over there”. “Make sure I leave today with the report you are working on.” 13th May 2013 Today was a beautiful day at work. I made a discovery. Dr. Fauziya has a human side! And she really does know how to play the hostess. Our partners visited from Canada. I discovered one had been her research partner during her doctorate. We really saw a different her. For the first time she had lipstick on. She had chosen the Silky Mauve. It looked so good on her. I was pleased it didn’t end up in the trashcan. She laughed a lot today. Her eyes had a sparkle I never knew was there.

6th May 2013 The last time I made an entry about Doc is the first day I met her. After the thorough conversation in her office by 3pm, I was grateful she wasn’t on the panel that conducted my interview. My first two months on the job was smooth and fortunately uneventful. Fortunately? Well... Doc has been away on a Consulting trip to Eastern Nigeria for the most of it. I closed two contracts. They were easy ones that didn’t require any travelling. At closing time each day, it is the norm to have a phone meeting with Dr. Fauziya to keep her updated on on-goings in the office. In between polite and professional emails, there were not so nice phone calls that never failed to mentally exhaust me. Is there no pleasing this woman? I am beginning to understand why the last occupant of my position resigned. Office gossips would jokingly ask, "them done baptise you?" I always feign ignorance at the genuine purpose of that question. My response has always been a blank and confused look and then to ask in an innocent voice what do you mean? They would snicker and find something else to talk about. I really do not want to join a clique of snickering office gossips in this new place. Yes, I have been baptised. Over and over again! Words like daft and incompetent have become rather reoccurrent in our conversations and nothing is ever good enough. Today, she summoned a tornado because I had used my discretion on a decision without asking her. It was urgent, I could not reach her. The notice of vacancy had said 'ability to think outside the box and work with minimal or no supervision'. In the end it turned out she didn’t have an alternative. She would have done the same thing. The word insubordination got thrown around a lot. And then there was a threat of query and suspension in the event of a reoccurrence. I have a throbbing migraine. I hope I can get some sleep tonight. I dread tomorrow. It is going to be her first day at work in two months. It’s also her birthday. HR had called a meeting the day before. There was to be a cake presented by the welfare committee. No other person but the welfare committee and other Directors as much as breathed happy birthday. To Doc that would be highly unprofessional; spending precious office hours on birthday wishes. Well, I did something today. I don’t know why I did it. I had a lipstick set wrapped in a gift shop on my way back from work. I decided one of those expensive little boxes with music, and a blue wrap finished with a pink ribbon. I feel silly. It is a birthday gift for Doc. It is a set of five lipsticks. Mixture of different brands. Chestnut brown in L’Oreal, dusty lilac in Maybelline, silky mauve in CoverGirl, a soft metallic color in Urban Decay and sandy peach in Generation G. Silly choice. I should have added one bold color. Well, Doc does not look the type for vampie-lips. It cost a little Fortune. I hope she appreciates that at my level this is a lot. I’ve never noticed lipstick on her. I am not a member of the welfare committee. Why the hell did I do this?

I am really shy about putting out my LGBT themed fiction. I am more comfortable putting my research work on LBGT Rights out there. Since this is a closed forum of like minds. I'm gonna do this. This is a daily freestyle for as long as it lasts. Edits are embraced. Here goes. 4th Mar. 2013 This is my Sixth day of work as an Associate In-House Counsel in Alakah Consulting Limited. I resumed work on the 25th day of February with a training that lasted through the week. I met the Head of my Department and one of the Directors of the firm Dr. Fauziya Adam for the first time today. She is just fresh from an official assignment. The moment I stepped into her office, it dawned on me that working with her would require a lot of tact. She seems to be everything I heard she is in the office cafeteria (where more gossiping than eating goes on). No smile. Permanent scowl that throws you off balance. Harsh tone. Fault finder. “You are the new one,” she said to me as she leafed through some filed documents never looking up the duration of the conversation. “Yes Doc,” I had been told it is important to call her that. “I see.” Leaf. Leaf. “I hope you really are as impressive as your CV says.” Leaf. Leaf. Leaf. “I try my best Doc.” “Well, we will have serious issues if your best is not good enough,” she said with a wave of dismissal. “Come back by 3, let me pick your brain and know how you plan to make this work.” “Thank you, Doc,” I said as I took my leave. My best is always good enough. I thought of the other job offer I had pending. I had two weeks to send in my acceptance letter. I was not too excited at the prospect because I have never been a fan of Government Ministries. Mum thinks they are the best in terms of getting paid whatever your output, and then there is the issue of job security. That’s not what I need. I have to leave Nigeria to Pretoria, SA to start my Doctorate degree in seven months. I had deferred my admission from the previous year because funds were not forthcoming. I need money and Alakar Consulting pays enough to give me a soft landing; I am not going to let anyone ruin this for me.