Diary of the Crazy Shaniqua Bello

Log Twenty-four: ANOTHER PASSENGER

TWENTY-FOUR
ANOTHER PASSENGER

01/01/2022

New Year's Day

11:30 pm

Dear Diary

It started when he looked over at me that was innocently thinking about my lost phone while I leaned on the window and watched the nightlife.

"You're still so bothered about this phone?"

I slowly took my head from the window and turned to look at him in a mixture of hurt and disbelief.

"Yes sir, some of us are still broke, and Yes we get bothered when we lose our phones."

"What phone was it?"

Hearing him use past tense for my phone gave me a special kind of heartbreak Bebi, but I'm good...I'm good.

"11 pro max" I lied; I was still managing the  7 plus with its broken screen.

"That's what having you so bothered?"

"Everything I had and most of my connections was on that phone sir"  At least this was as true as it got.

"What do you mean everything you have; it's not your life for Christ's sake—plus, there's iCloud, I'm sure you backed your files up!" He turned to look at me and although I was appreciative that he cared to inquire about my phone, I still didn't get the point of him caring at all. It was my first day, I'd managed to piss him off more often than other assistants piss their bosses off in years plus I also got his mum upset over a dress she was supposed to wear. I didn't deserve his care, his car ride, or even a second day of resumption. What was up?

"Yes, I backed it up...sir."

"Great, I'll have your new phone ready for you by the end of tomorrow."

"You don't have to do that sir."

"Oh! alright then"

"It's just ordinary play sir, I'll be grateful" I quickly retracted my speech and watched as his mouth curved into a small smile and that was when he turned to look at me, and voila! The near-death experience. "Oh, My God!" I gasped in shock as I watched the trailer that almost sandwiched us to death speed away while yelling words of curses at us.

"I'm so sorry Shanko...shanir--"

"--SHA-NI-KU-WA, SHANIQUA." I stated, still trying to recover from the fact that I was about to be on Instablog Naija or gossipmill; I can already picture the headline: SUPERSTAR ELVIS BANKOLE AND ANOTHER PASSENGER DIE IN A GRUESOME ROAD ACCIDENT, That's what my entire existence would have been limited to, "Another Passenger."

My elder sister just walked into my room and I know she's wondering what I'm writing in the middle of the night.

I need to attack her for not knocking on my door for the 1st time this year—leaving 655 more times before the year runs out. Doesn't she know that I'm now a working-class citizen?

Be right back
The working-class Shaniqua

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