A mild rat-tit-tat at the door. Then a peer through the peephole after I thought I had heard a come in and then my hand makes for the door handle, down goes the knob. I walk in. A step one, two . . . three and then freeze in my tracks. Their leering eyes scanned every inch of me like infrared beams on a laser. Three young women relaxing in the cosy beds of their hostel. The room that hitherto was bustling with chit-chattering and giggles was now as deafening silent as a grave yard. Hi, my name is Jeremy and I work for... I start to say when one of them interrupts Excuse me, are you a Ghanaian? I look them in the eyes one by one and see the sheer curiousity written all over their faces. I thought to myself when is this new NIA card going to be ready for distribution and retorted- No, I am an Afghan! and with that walked out of their room. (just messing with yall)
Posted on: Fri, 26 Sep 2014 23:29:29 +0000
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