Scars (Romola 2)

34: Eight Rings

Miss Oyema's hair was in a tight bun today.

Romola stared at the strands of hair flowing into the bun atop her head. Not a strand was out of place. Just like everything in the office. Everything had its place and everyone had their department. Nothing mixed.

They stood in front of the main reception area where two high white stools remained behind the white desk that doubled as a display shelf.

"Alright, so when you come in the morning after prayers, you can help Mrs. Christina at the front desk if you have nothing to do. I suggest that you learn the name of each piece. You should be able to give a bit of explanation about each of them." Miss Oyema turned to her. "Can you do that?"

"Yes ma."

"And, if it wouldn't be too much work, you can clean the surface of my office and reset everything. I hope you wouldn't mind if I send you to buy food, occasionally. I love to eat out a lot."

"Ma, that's no problem."

She had done much more for Iya Tobi while recieving lesser pay; washing toilets, cleaning up Tobi's vomit, washing cats, cleaning Iya Tobi's house when one of the maids quit— those were not part of the sales girl description but she had done those things. Miss Oyema's work would be a walk in the park.

"I think that's all. Sit in that chair and let Benjamin take a photo of you."

"Ma?" Romola walked around the desk and sat on the chair, her legs swinging against the sides of the chair and not touching the floor.

"Take a photo of me?"

"Ben." Miss Oyema looked towards the hallway on the left, then raised her voice. "Benjamin?"

Romola got off the chair when a man with a golden goatee entered the room. He wore a simple yellow shirt, brown codorouys, and black loafers.

Romola sighed, staring down at the big black suit jacket she had buried herself in. Of everyone she had been introduced to that day, she was the only one dressed like she had to give a business presentation to the president. Miss Oyema wore a simple sleeveless dress that faded from white to red at the bottom.

"Alright, I'm here." Benjamin toyed with the camera strap around his neck. He posed the camera at Romola's face. "How many pictures do you need?"

Romola walked around the desk towards Miss Oyema until she stood behind the woman. Benjamin dropped his camera.

Miss Oyema turned to her. "What is the problem?"

"Why do you want to take my picture?"

"For official records. Besides," Miss Oyema placed her hand on Romola's shoulder while pointing to the wall on the right, next to the window that overlooked the outside world. "I always, put everyone's photo on the wall."

An array of framed photos took up much of the space on the wall. Miss Oyema's picture stood at the top. Underneath hers, in smaller frames, were the pictures of the admin and Mrs. Christina. Every other person's photo followed beneath it. Twelve photos and one empty frame— hers. Making it thirteen in all.

"I don't want my picture taken."

"Why?" Miss Oyema's hand dropped from Romola's shoulder. "It's just one picture. Benjamin, don't turn this this thing into a photoshoot."

Romola shook her head. Should she tell them? So far, none of them had recognized her as the girl from the videos but did she dare take the risk and tell them that her pictures and videos had made her infamous on the internet? She didn't know anything about them. How would they react? Would Miss Oyema still look at her with such calm gentle eyes if she knew?