He is one of them—one of the many men, who believe that a woman’s ‘no’ actually means ‘yes’ and her ‘yes’ in fact means ‘no’.
Oh!, of course,she cannot blame him that much. Is there not even this popular saying that “When a woman says stop what you are doing, she actually means do what you are stopping?”
Yes, she remembers hearing something like that, some time past from an old friend. The society has a lot to say for itself too, for spreading around such baseless fabrications as truth. So, it’s partly no fault of his that he actually believes that women act in opposites, and for him, her display of resistance is just another confirmation of his delusion.
For a moment, she feels pity for him. Well, she had so not expected a man his calibre and status to have such poor knowledge of women. Sadly, he may never know, that he knows nothing at all.
Her unwarranted pity for him does not last long, because his next words, make it impossible for her to continue to do so.
“Allow me to make you feel like a real woman. You are a pretty woman, and you do know, that it is the least you can offer me for this job. I’ll text you the address and location right after I’m done here. Don’t bother about contact information, I have it all here, Pretty.”
He winks at her and raises a CV–her CV of course, from the desk, sways it back and forth in a bid to show her, as if she needs proof of him having it. The ease with which the words flew out of his mouth just like that, like a language he used everyday, puzzled her immensely. The surety with which he said them, as one who knew already, that she’d agree to any absurd proposals he would make irked her. She glares at him; a look of indignation now replacing the one of pity and perplexity she was having earlier. She hates herself for thinking more than acting.
How dare he think so lowly of her and her body?
Well, she has heard of men,—men who treat women with utter disregard, men who feel somehow entitled to women’s bodies, but she hadn’t expected or didn’t expect to meet one so soon. Most certainly, not in this way. She continues glaring at him, as if by doing so, he’d magically realize his wrongdoings and apologize for them.
“You haven’t answered me yet, my lady. Do we have a date?”
Makafui can no longer hold back. She hisses very loudly while repeating his words sarcastically “date indeed”.
“How many innocent women have fallen prey to this ridiculous ploy of yours? How unfortunate,” her lips twitched into a sarcastic smirk, looking him up and down with eyes full of disgust.
He lets out a cackle, a loud one, like someone who just heard the best joke of his life.
She pushes past him and starts to gather the documents she left on his desk; the ones she brought hoping for an interview and her CV as well.
The fury and disappointment is evident on her face, the former being greater than the latter. She grabs her bag and makes to leave quietly. Who knows what spending even a second more in his presence could cause her to do?
“Calm down my lady,” he says and attempts to hold her back.
She evades his grip and shoots back, in a much raised voice, “I AM NOT YOUR LADY!”
“Alright, alright, but you don’t have to shout. I’m only trying to…”
“Keep your job and opinions to yourself, Mr. Ekem or whatever they call you, I don’t need any of them,” she lashes out at him.
She resolves not to create a scene because of the other interviewees, and besides, he isn’t worth it.
She starts toward the door, even though her desire to slap him—first; for wasting her time and second; for touching her without her permission—is intense than the one holding her back.
“I thought you were smart,” he says, shaking his head.
She stops dead in her tracks, turns around, walks slowly and silently back to him. She can tell he is trying to make out her intentions from the way he is scrutinizing her face for clues. She stops a few steps away from him and smiles. He smiles back, an assuredly calm smile, as one who knew she would come back and had expected it.
She does not stop herself this time, nor does she think twice about what she is going to do. She thinks only of her self worth, his disregard, his insolent touch, his filthy hands moving through her blouse like a snake slithering through grass, and in that moment, she can no longer control her rage. She summons the tiniest amount of braveness left in her, raising the pile of documents she is holding, she smacks him across the face with it.
He is totally confounded, his mouth agape, as though he cannot bring himself to believe that that just happened—that somebody just did that to him, more so, a woman. If he was shocked previously by her flinging his hand at him, this shocks him even more.
She glares at him, eyes glowing from utmost fury like a lioness whose cubs had been tampered with and says to him intrepidly,
“Now that is for touching me without my consent. My body belongs to me and me alone, and no one will disrespect it! I hope this sends some sense spiraling through that brainless skull of yours–the one you most definitely did not get from suckling your mother’s breast, you stupid man.”
She storms out of the office slamming the door behind her. She pays little attention to the questioning looks and stares that follow her as she makes her way out of the place. She is so furious she couldn’t care less about anything. She hurriedly leaves the hallway, practically flying down the stairs as fast as her tiny legs carry her. She doesn’t even stop to greet the polite receptionist who had offered her assistance earlier goodbye—she is too angry and shaky to be nice.
She didn’t expect him to follow her outside, but still, she cast frantic looks around just to make sure he really did not. She leans against the wall outside, half–scared, half–pleased with herself for putting that obnoxious man in his place.
She waves an empty cab to a stop and jumps right in without bothering to negotiate prices with the driver. Her only thought is to get far away from that premises, as far as she possibly can.
Episode 5 comes your way next Friday. Anticipate!🤗…. Meanwhile, thanks so much for reading today’s episode. Till next time. Bye…