Hi Target
"Our work is to present things that are as they are."
~Frederick the Great [Frederick II]

* * *

The sky opened as quickly as the sun had gone hiding behind fat, white clouds. Rain came pouring down, soaking the earth with water and life. Colorful umbrella's and raincoats dotted the environment as people rushed about, undeterred by the downpour, to their various destinations. Chinonye clutched her small pink umbrella, cursing softly as raindrops hit her skin.

The moist July air made her wish she had worn a jacket on top her casual ankara gown, but she could not risk such fashion blunder. Purple jacket on top a multicolored ankara print gown was a no-no.

Safe in the covered area in front of her tailor shop, away from the angry torrents of rain, the first thing she did was to pull off her shoes - they were the most uncomfortable pair of flats she owned. She silently blamed the aboki - the mobile shoe makers that carried their tools from house to house to repair shoes - for not passing during the weekend, when she should have blamed herself for sleeping like a log of wood.

Turning with swift agility, she began the process of unlocking her shop's door until the very last set of locks came undone. One could never be too careful with security in her area. Finally in her cocoon, she discarded her shoe and umbrella at a corner and sank into the only comfortable chair available.

Sandra better be here early.

But the rain came harder, creating a rhythm on the asbestos roof, making her sure that Sandra would not come early. And reminding her of cleansing - forced cleansing.

The sound of the clock ticking kept her company as she tapped away on her phone, engrossed in the game of Temple Run. It wasn't until after thirty minutes that she knew Sandra would be late, even as the rain had stopped suddenly, giving way for a bright sky. She picked up the material she was currently working on, a blue and silver streaked hi target, and began to sew. Mama Mary who liked expensive and flashy things would be pleased with the outcome. She smiled to herself.

"Chinonye!" Without looking up, she knew whose voice it was . The shrill, light voice couldn't be mistaken with another.

She continued her sewing. "Sandra, thank you for finally gracing me with your presence ma."

She heard Sandra sigh and she could already picture the pout and defiant stance she always took on whenever she wanted to give an excuse. "You know how hard it is to leave the school even during break na, and the rain was falling heavily," Sandra finally said.

"At least just tell me you brought it with you."

"Brought what?"

This time Chinonye looked up, pausing her work, lips pursed as she took in Sandra's purple gown that contrasted against her dark chocolate skin. Sandra was the definition of black beauty with her glowing skin and honey brown eyes - if only she'd ignore the occasional pimples that pestered her during her monthlies.

"Don't tell me you forgot to buy my bole," she said calmly.

Sandra opened her mouth and began to laugh, the sound grating against her ears. She paused and waited for her to finish. Composing herself after a while, Sandra took out two black nylons from the bag she was carrying.

"You and this your love for bole, abeg take it joor, before you get angry with me."

Chinonye stopped her work and swiftly took a bowl where the both of them washed their hands before they settled down and dived into the meal.

"God, bole will not be the death of me!" Chinonye said, in between bites of the roasted plantain, also known as bole and fish - a popular Port Harcourt delicacy.

"Amen!" Sandra concurred, earning a look from Chinonye.

"Ehen, Nonye, one of my old friend is a business coach. He--"

Before Sandra could finish the statement, Chinonye cut in. "What are you talking about? Business coach? You'll not allow my food to digest well."

"Yes, a business coach. Or you don't know what it is?"

Chinonye stopped eating and looked at Sandra like - are you really asking me that question?

She sighed after she saw the determined look in her friend's eyes. "You know that I don't have any money to spare, and how am I sure I can trust this business coach?" She scrunched up her nose.

Sandra's eyes lit up. "Now you are talking! This guy has a very booming business, he's very popular around this PH axis. And that's not all oh, he's doing this thing for free. So just say yes, and I'll refer you to him."

She gulped, the peppery sauce burning her throat. Coughing, she reached for a bottle of water.

"Sorry," Sandra muttered, offering to pat her back.

What was she going to use a business coach to do? Free or not.

Sandra brought out her phone and showed her the business page. After typing and clicking, she saw the entry form. Sandra filled it for her. Apparently, her friend was eager for her to get it.

She feigned a smile at Sandra when she looked up. As she took her next bite of her meal, her stomach felt heavy, but she associated it with the food. Yes, she was eating too much.

"Now, enough of me. How did your last customer like the food?" She asked Sandra.

Home economics teacher and caterer - Sandra - looked up at her and began to talk animatedly. But Chinonye wasn't really listening. Her mind was going back to sift through her plans, over and over.

Where had she gotten it wrong in her business? No answer seemed to be forthcoming.

Darkness met her at home getting ready for bed. As she began to brush her teeth, her phone beeped from the room. She had a new message. Curious, she picked up her phone and unlocked it.

The message said:

Congrats! You've been selected for the free business coaching by Tee's menswear CEO.

Sippit restaurant, Artilary, be there on Friday by 8:30 am.

Dazed, she dropped her phone back on her bed and went on with her nighttime routine. To accept it or not? She'd sleep over it. Her mind went through her plans for Friday. There was no major work for her to do, unless a new customer wanted her to make a new dress, which was not very likely.

She'd either have to come up with a good excuse or she'd have to go.

•
Hey everyone. How was the first chapter?
•