The boss is back.
He said he would return on the first day of the week, and that would mean report to office on the second day of the week. It doesnt need rocket science to figure that out. What needs it, however is what people use to determine the first day of the week.
Now forgive me for believing that on the last day, God rested. The sabbath. A sunday. Could have been a saturday, but im almost sure my boss is not a seventh day adventist, nor is he a Jew. Monday thus marks the beginning of the week, making it, the FIRST day.
Now someone please try telling me why the Boss is back?
You can imagine my shock, trauma and escalation of the heart beat all at the same time, when i look at my phone and it is none other than my boss calling. I would have gladly picked up had it been his mobile number, because these days, aparently one can keep the same number when they cross roads and railways, considering he went by bus. But no. I wasnt even respected enough to be shocked on phone. The shock had to come before that. Hmmmmm. Stupid office landlines.
So now what is a girl to do? I cant ignore the call because eventually, he will get angry enough to draft my resignation letter, and force me to accept it as my idea. ( Like how the presidents of those developed countries in Jack Bauer fire their Chief of Staff). I thus ask thee once again. What is a girl to do?
I could tell the truth, which is that i am stuck in traffic jam.
Thing is, my boss left for someplace on Wednesday, saying he would be back at the beginning of the following week. You know when the boss is out, only the wierdos go to work, unless there is this really annoying wierdo who keeps updating the boss on eveyone’s late coming. So anyway, my Grandmother had been begging me to go see her, so she can proclaim to her haters how her grandchild has grown, but i have always been busy. But the absence of my boss presented an opportunity, and i decided id go visit her for one day. Just one day. I had planned for thursday, but the wierdo didnt react to her contaminated lunch as early as i’d expected, so i had to wait till friday afternoon. As soon as she left, i also headed to Arua park, and boarded that bus to granny land. I was lucky to get Otada. That is the fastest bus that has’nt yet reported any accident. Four hours later, i arrived, but it was too dark to trek the 3km to my home, considering it was out of town. I thus proceeded to some funny lodge. At 2500shs a night, i wasnt obliged to complain about the leaking roof and healthy bedbugs; the demons responsible for my sleepless night. The following day, saturday, i was lucky to get a cheap bicycle heading those ends. 500shs all the way. He attempted to say. He obviously didnt get it right, but i got the point. I sat. The boy peddled. I felt sorry. Honestly, for 500shs, i wouldnt have carried myself up those slopes. Halfway the journey, he seemed to be sharing my line of thought, because he decided he would rather have no supper than suffer under my weight. I was left stranded in the middle of dust, because that is all you could see. I walked.
Finally, three hours later, i arrived. All those things villagers do to welcome the elite from kAmpala were done. Performances, sacrifices, cutting of trees, you name it. These things really take long, and by the time they were done, it was 3 in the morning. I had planned to arrive friday, show off saturday and return sunday, but that was not going to be possible. The showing off had to be postponed, and it had to take the whole day. I thus had to postpone my departure. Monday morning, i’d be on Otada, and by 2pm, id be in Kampala. Maybe i’d even pass by the office, give my boss a call, and wish him a safe journey.
Now Monday comes. My cousin offers to ride me to town, and knowing that would take a few good hours, we decide to rise early. By 6am we were on the road. We reached the outskirts of town at 8.45am, and just as we joined the morning jam, the phonecall came. I didnt even know there was signal in my village. Damn those ambitious MTN people.
So this is where i am now. Shuld i, or shouldnt i? To do or not to do. That is the question.
I decide to do. I pick up, tell the Boss i am stuck in jam. Just so you know, the bicycle jam can be very heavy! Worse than the car jam in kampala. In kampala you can get out of the car and get a boda to go through the jam. In Lira, totally different story. The bicycles are all moving at once. If one cyclist is tired of peddling, he can ask his neighbour to peddle for him a little. Once you are in the middle, it is advisabe not to get off till you reach your destination.
I tell the Boss i will report to office as soon as possible, announce battery problems and switch off my phone. My mind is now racing. Even if i try so hard, the earliest i can be there is 2pm. Maybe i should have heart failure on my way, there by forcing the Boss to feel sorry instead of firing me. All in all, i cannot afford to lose this job. Not with the accumulating bills i have. If i lose this job, how will i afford to buy hair. It is expensive these days, not to mention nails, eyebrows, and teeth. Anyway, let me reach kampala and see ekigenda maaso! Ill take it from there.
(PREVIOUSLY PUBLISHED IN THE WORKZINE (2))

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