Image by Changhai Travis via Flickr
Sit in front’. Madam ordered sharply. Her stony expression did not change.
I obeyed, sitting gingerly on the cream leather chair, next to Taofeek the driver. The scars on my back still hurt.
Madam spread herself at the back of the car, complete with all her accessories: a large handbag, a glossy magazine, a case containing her sunglasses and three mobile phones.
‘Let’s go!’ she ordered.
As the car pulled out of the compound I swept earlier this morning, I imagined a life where I switched places with Madam. If my parents hadn’t died… If I had gone to university… If my uncle hadn’t…
‘Get out of my car, useless girl!’ jolted me out of my thoughts. ‘Take this one thousand naira and go back to where you came from.’
I stopped listening to her. We were at the bus stop. Taofeek got down from the car and handed me my bag with a sad smile.
I put the heavy bag on my head and shed a tear as the car sped out of sight.
Tolulope Popoola is a writer, blogger and lover of arts and literature. She recently quit her career in Accounting to become a full-time writer. She blogs at http://writingmystories.blogspot.com, and is the creator of the online fiction series, ‘In My Dreams It Was Simpler’. She also writes short stories, poems and magazine articles, and is currently working on a novel.
{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }
Tolulope,
You are really quite good with flash fiction. I connected with the girl’s plight. It may be fiction but I know it happens in reality, shamefully.
Cheers,
Kiru
I cant say I feel her pain o cos right now, I’m the one that has been on the recieving end of the ungratefulness of domestic helps….lol… “Jhazmyn get serious”
You captured it real well in my own opinion, I’ve seen people treat their helps like slaves and its real sad.
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