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Rate This Contest Entry: Contest: June 30th, 2005 Author: Adesola Orimalade He sat in the room, alone; yet surrounded by a large crowd of people. He was oblivious to the faces around. His mind was far away. The feeling of anxiety was palpable in the air. Though some talked as if they had no care in the world, others sat like him staring into space. If this fails; what next, he asked himself. The time was ten o’clock in the morning and this is the Visa Office of the British Deputy High Commission in Lagos, Nigeria. ‘Next’ the feminine voice boomed over the hidden microphone. The person at the head of the queue got up and walked into one of the booths. His though strayed to the conversation he had with his father a month ago. ‘Son what is your plan for this year?’ He understood his father’s question and he sighed deeply for a moment as he reflected on his twenty nine years on earth. He had graduated as the second best student in his faculty a little over six years ago. Two years later and without a job, had returned to school for his masters degree. But he soon found out that in the part of the world, nobody wanted a qualified psychologist. Then one day he walked into a manufacturing plant in Lagos and was given a job. Oh Yes a job. He celegrated it quietly. A month later he understood why the last person had resigned. With a salary less than US$200 a month he could barely feed himself. Three months later and eight weeks ago he simply stopped going to work. ' Why waste money to go there and drop the resignation letter?' he had asked himself. ‘Next to booth 2 please’ the visa officer called over the microphone, interrupting his trail of thought. ‘I want to travel to Britain. It should be better than this’ he replied There was silence. His father understood his son’s frustrations. ‘If that is what you want. But you know you will be working illegally?’ ‘But what choice do I have?” There was a brief pause’ Anyway you will need to come so we can go to Baba and collect some spiritual assistance. We must be prepared’ ' There will be no need for that father' he had tried to argue ' Really?' sounding sarcastic' My son dont you know that some of these whitemen have powers that can read your mind ehn?' ' That is far fetched' He lauged ' Anyway you must come so we can go and see Baba Mulaila. He will give you something that will help you scale through' ‘Ok father. I will come next week’ * * * * * His palm was clammy. He looked at the different doors behind which he knew stood the visa officers. One of the doors opened and a man walked out. He held his passport loosely. His eyes were bloodshot, his shoulders hunched. ‘Another one bites the dust’ the man in front of him quipped. He scanned the faces around him again. As they drew near the doors, the faces had become more apprehensive. His mind wandered again to how far he had gone to prepare for today. The medicine man his father took him too had given him a small gourd with a dry black substance that tasted like charcoal. ‘Lick it in the morning before you go to meet the white men’ he had told him ' Anything you ask for they will give without argument' He had thought of asking the Baba how this powder will influence the visa officers but he was too desprate and was ready to try anything. ‘Next to booth 3’ the visa officer called over the microphone. The next person out of the booth smiled a slight swagger in his step. He must have been given his visa; 'Lucky guy;. The person in front of him walked into booth 4. I am next! ‘Next’ He got up smartly and walked in. The lady behind the booth was bereft of any niceties ‘Your name please…’ she demanded ‘ Rufus Aiyedun..’ He stood; waiting with bated breath as she looked at the Stack of documents in front of her. After a short while; but what seemed an eternity to the young man at the other end, she pulled out his documents. ‘Sorry your application was not successful…’ The world spun wildly. He could see her mouth moving but he heard nothing. He tried to sit down but his legs gave way, he crashed heavily against the table. In the distance he could hear someone shouting ‘ Security!, security!...’ Rate This Entry! Warning: fopen(/home/writingc/public_html/entries/b3_rating/b3r_data/.txt) [function.fopen]: failed to open stream: No such file or directory in /home/writingc/public_html/entries/b3_rating/b3_rating.php on line 69 Error opening file. Use browser's back button and try again people have rated it so far. Warning: fopen(/home/writingc/public_html/entries/b3_rating/b3r_data/.txt) [function.fopen]: failed to open stream: No such file or directory in /home/writingc/public_html/entries/b3_rating/b3_rating.php on line 69 Error opening file. 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