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“Fine Face No Brains”My Experience at the Bank Today with an Ibadan Girl

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“She walked into the banking hall, her pointed shoe announcing her arrival minutes before you saw her.
She wore that kind of dress that convinces you that heaven is missing an angel.
The aroma of her perfume would easily finish a bowl of eba for its sweetness. And the phone which she gingerly held to her ear, without minding the security guy frantically waving at her that calls are not allowed in banking halls, will cost a small fortune. She stepped forward, picked a deposit slip and searched frantically for a pen.

About five guys offered her their pens but, shame to bad people, she took mine maybe because I was closest to her. After a while, or a long while because time stood still, she stood up and inched closer to me. She whispered: “Please can you spell ‘thirty’ for me?” I looked down at her deposit slip in surprise. She’d written: ‘tarty tausan’!

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Olodumare!!!!!! I hissed and snatched my biro from her hand. Fine face, no brains.

 

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