In your next visit, you’ll be well informed, ready and even excited that of what will happen. You’ll maneuver your way through to that very office. You’ll realise there no much change but the two ladies at the reception will be standing.
‘Excuse me, I have come to pick my letter of admission.’ you’ll mumble your words softly and with respect.
‘Ooh, we ni ule msichana alikuja hapa last week?’ one of the ladies will obviously ask this silly question.
‘Yes, ni mimi…’ you’ll maintain a good rapport.
‘Hebu enda room 55, 56, 57, ujaribu uko.’ she’ll advice you.
‘Sawa, asante.’ you’ll reply before walking off to your left past a symbol on it inscribed, ‘Restaurant…’
Confusion will elude in your mind now that you don’t know to locate the rooms but your gaze will be fate. You’ll maintain a left turn. There you are.
Room No. 55
There will be quite a sizeable number of individuals waiting. Obviously for their letter, similar to you. You’ll involve them in an inquisitive conversation here and there.
‘Mmekujia letter pia? ‘ you’ll go on to ask,
‘Yeah, but ako busy hadi 12.’ they’ll sadly reply.
After a 3 hour long wait, the lady inside will call one of you. You’ll be relieved thinking the wait will be over. Instead she will send the fellow to avail her a drink from the restaurant.
One by one, you’ll get into the office and exit with a note. Once your turn to be served is nigh, a very irresistible guy will get into the room and complain that you should not be served.
‘Madam, we got loads of work to do. This guys are a burden. Embark on the work and send them away.’ he’ll retort and walk away.
You’ll look at the lady with sympathy but you won’t object the order. She’ll look back and assume you heard.
‘Hebu endeni reception, tuko na kazi…’ she’ll answer you.
As you exit, you’ll see her smile to the desktop, little bit a sense, you’ll realise she’s viewing her Facebook page.
It’s painful. You’ll walk back to the reception and find the two ladies standing as you left them.
‘Umepewa letter?’ this time a little bit concerned, one of them will ask.
‘Bado wako na kazi… ‘you’ll reply.
With pity, she’ll press some keys, and write you a note. Walk to a different room and come back with your letter.
You’ll be grateful but in mind wonder…
‘Mbona waliamua kunitesa hivi, hii ni laana…’
Next piece will ‘mulika’ the mess.
‘Where does our coins dissappear to?’
We pen as we receive it…