“To be continued…”

Sanny, by virtue of his CV, was the pre-interview favourite. He had trained in the UK, built a rich CV and was the most experienced applicant, though not the oldest. His personality exuded an impulsive appeal, and he made a profitable use of it. Though, he was that type of guy many a lady would fall for at first sight,  Sanny was no man for bedmatic-gymnastic buffoonery. He had kept his head up high on issues of morality because he always kept the driver of his zip flipper high up.

Eventually, the 24th of April came and he made his way to the famed Multimedia Broadcasting House in  Ho Dome. He was the third applicant to arrive and to his surprise the last. Interestingly, the first two were being interviewed for junior positions; his main competitor was forcibly arrested that morning and that had given a boon to his chance. The HR’s secretary had sent him a text message to inform him about this, and this confirmed, he now relaxed his nerves and allowed the forbidden feeling of complacency to evade his psyche which eventually puffed up his chest.

He’s awaiting his turn when the unexpected happened! Sonny Aniadjei, his only competitor on the day finally showed up with   plastered lips. Sonny looked disheveled, cadaverous, drained and anxious. The front desk executive fixed him a warm drink and engaged him in a conversation to bring his emotion to normal. As Sonny was being calmed and rehabilitated Sanny was deteriorating within. Something told him he no longer had a dog’s chance at the job but he disobeyed the voice. That irksome voice returned like a premonition that turned his whole being around.

He finally took a clinical look at the 24 year old female secretary who engaged Sonny; she eyed him and he understood her. For now he wished he could use his looks, his influence and all on the lady to deconstruct Sonny but the rapport Sonny had established with his counselor was unassailable.

When Sanny’s turn came, he feigned a gentleman by telling Sonny he was taking the hot seat.

“Do it well for two”, that was Sonny, rather candidly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sanny quipped.

“I know I won’t win”.

“Don’t …”

“I’m here just for a formality.”

“Please don’t…”

“I know what I am saying.”

“Well…”

“You have my blessing”

Sanny entered. He was in high spirits. He now knew he would win. When he entered the boardroom all panelists were smiling at him except one who had his head down. It’s now that he realized that smile was a Hollywood or toothpaste smile people flashed at you when you nearly caught them talking behind you, a kind of facial rehabilitation façade smile. How much will the decision of one man weigh against the rest?  There were three ladies who had made his entrance glorious with ear to ear grins and he was grateful. For no explainable reason, he was happy it was a man who appeared to be his antagonist. But that happiness was a lull in the storm.

The lone man who had buried his head all along sat up and took his glasses off now.  That was it! That was his HR at Grandpa & Sons Primal Communication conglomerate, where he, Sanny, was the head of production for two primetime programmes. His dexterity on the job earned him the nickie “KingPin”.

He began to perspire in the freezing room. A bottle of chilled water was served him without his requesting but it didn’t help much. The interview wore on. He used his mood swing technique at handling mood polarity to weave himself back into the game but failed. Problem was he prejudged himself and thus felt trapped within himself.

For certes, he scored a high on each panelist’s scoresheet except the chairman’s. It was a knotty dicey anecdote they both shared. Sanny never told his HR he had a certificate nor experience in investigative journalism, and neither did he tell Grandpa & Sons he did his mandatory national service in the US Army and that he held a dual citizenship. Besides, he had signed a document suggesting that he was not holding any information from his current employer.

The main point at issue, however, was a sick leave and excuse duty handed in by Sanny, and same corroborated and signed by a medic who averred Sanny’s pelvic girdle ached so he couldn’t walk properly for four clear days. He thus was on a sick leave for a third day running because that relief was granted him.

He was almost through with the interview. It was brief but impressive. Panelists did not hide their joys yet Chairman of Panel did not say a word since Sanny had been seated. He kept looking at Sanny and nodding all along. It was sarcastic and funny.  Finally, it was time for him to leave. They thanked him and promised to be in touch with him.  As a formality, they thanked him. They asked him if he had a question for them and that was when he would burst his already deflated balloon. He asked Mr. Odum if he had any question for him. The old man said rather bluntly, “No comment”. Sanny thanked the panelists and went out with an internal conflict that birthed sullen brows. All too soon it was the turn of Sonny to assume the hot seat.

“Do it well for two”, that was Sonny, rather candidly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sanny quipped.

“I know I won’t win”.

“Don’t …”

“I’m here just for a formality.”

“Please don’t…”

“I know what I am saying.”

“Well…”

“You have my blessing.”

As he walked to his car, he monologued dramatically, further tightening  grips on his own happiness. In whatever happened, life must go on, and so the interior monologue prolonged in him. Until he heard from this new company or from Grandpa   & Sons, he had to live in that prison without walls, a self-imposed torment. He felt life had come to an end. But then, he told himself, “It’s not me. I’m acting in a movie. The protagonist says ‘To be continued.’”

And life continued.

 

 

 

 

    Written by 

    Describing a man like this cannot be an easy task. A man of many parts and sides. A single statement of his sends confusion all over the place: some laugh it off; others weep. Highly unpredictable… consistently inconsistent. Strict but funny. You cannot fully know him because he does not know himself enough either. Settled? When you first meet him, he’s banal; then you get to know him a bit, then you like him. Get to know him some more and you don’t like him much anymore. Write him off…. A mistake. He likes to be undermined at first contact. WARNING! You’re in the territory of a man with uncommon experiences so don’t be unexpectant of the expected unexpected. What do I mean? DJ Merque’s hobbies are reading, teaching and video-making. Writing is his part-time job wae. Kweku Tuadzra started writing in 1996 and now has collections of plays, films, poems and stories. A product of Dzolo Secondary School. He read English, French and Theatre Arts for a first degree, graduating in 2000, having combined Theatre Arts and English. Subsequently, he read English for an MPhil degree in Legon, specializing in the Syntax of International Auxiliary Languages. Grandpa, an expert on Ghanaian Pidgin English, has lived in almost all regions of Ghana ever. Willy Tuadzra is the CEO of Grandpa & Sons Primal Communications Consult. He was born in the 1970s.

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