strange peace, a calm clarity. He stretched. Even his limbs were stronger and surer. He
looked at his phone. Thirty-seven new text
messages – and all while he was asleep.
With one click, he deleted them. The empty
screen buoyed him. Then he got up to
bathe, determined to fold the day into the
exact shape that he wanted.
Those Levick people had to go. No more
foreign PR firms. They should have made
that article in the American newspaper
sound like him, they should have known
better. They had to go. And he would not
pay their balance; they had not fulfilled the
purpose of the contract after all. Continue...
He pressed the intercom. Man Friday came in,
face set in a placidly praise-singing smile.
“Good morning, Your Excellency!”
“Good morning,” Oga Jona said. “I had a
revelation from God.”
Man Friday stared at him with bulging eyes.
“I said I had a revelation from God,” he repeated.
“Find me new Public Relations people. Here in
Nigeria. Is this country not full of mass
communication departments and graduates?” Read more after the cut
“Yes, Your Excellency.” Man Friday’s eyes
narrowed; he was already thinking of whom he
would bring, of how he would benefit.
“I want a shortlist on my table on Wednesday,”
Oga Jona said. “I don’t want any of the usual
suspects. I want fresh blood. Like that student
who asked that frank question during the
economic summit.”
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