The One I Hated

The One I Hated πŸ˜•

“You’re welcome back to Nigeria once again, my dear. You will be in charge now, as you can see, your father is getting old, I need to retire”.
Dad was saying as we got down from the limousine and heading into the office.

I had smiled.

“Don’t worry, dad, I promise, you won’t regret having me manage this company”.

“That’s my baby girl”. He pelted me on my back as he led the way into the hall.

Every employees stood as soon as we entered but then I noticed something.

A big headed young man with bushy hairs and mustache, at the far end of the hall, was still sitting, he didn’t even look up as he was busy, typing god-knows-what on the desktop before him.

Who is this and what does he think he is?. I asked myself.

I turned to face dad, expecting him to roar at the disrespectful fellow but he didn’t. Instead, he waved at the others to take their seats.

I was disappointed and burning with rage.This is unlike my dad, seems a lot have changed over the years. I thought.

“Good morning, all. Without wasting much of your time, please, put your hands together as I introduce to you, your new boss”. He announced, with his hand placed on my shoulder.

Everyone clapped and cheered. Buy my eyes were rested on that young man. He was still typing.

As the noise subsided, he then looked up for the very first time and as he did, our eyes met but he looked away instantly.

“Hey, Charles, this is Melody, my daughter…. Dad was saying as he was moving towards that annoying young man’s desk to reintroduce me to him.

Who is this man and what has he done with my dad?. I was asking as I walked reluctantly behind him.

The dad I left eight years ago would never repeat himself to anyone, no matter who you are and would had fired that young man for his awful behavior that morning. What has changed?

…. Melody, meet my assistant manager, Charles Ogbonna..both of you will be working together”. Dad continued the introduction.

He is the assistant manager?, no wonder it was so difficult for him to stand while others did. I thought as he offered his hand for a handshake.

I grabbed it forcefully, pressing his palm hard with my thumb. He looked directly into my eyes and I guessed he saw the fire of hatred burning in them, because he drew his hand back, trembling.

“Come on, let me show you the rest of the office”. Dad said, moving into another part of the building.

I followed behind but had to turn to take one last look at Charles. He was still staring at me, fears visibly written over his face.

“I will trim those wings”. I muttered and ran off to catch up with dad….

Typing 2 ….

Story by β›” Joy Ifunanya

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