MY HOPE, MY NIGERIA by Abdulrahman Jogbojogbo
The stressful day was telling on me, I noticed signs of puffiness under my eyes as I oiled my suku, wondering if Danjuma would still say: "Nkechi, you look beautiful" en route to Iwediran, the newspaper vendor.
At the vendor's, I argued with Effiong over Yaya Toure's football award, the cat and dog power tussle; his logic was good, but my jokes always win the arguments.
I came back home to eat amala, heated a stainless plate and ironed my blouse with it. I was going for my sixth job interview, but I smiled still, optimistic that this would be my breakthrough (This story was edited).
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