Sita
"A nice speech you got there." He said behind me.
I was having the normal chitty-chatty thing with the ladies outside. They all seemed to be so obsessed with the fact that I got to move out of Abidjan and sit around the burnfire with them for what mattered most to the poor and not those in my class.
I spurned to meet him, the ladies were still there to pester me with their words, but I had to ignore them even without excusing them.
"Special Orthopedist." My lips curled into a warm smile, a smile that had a connection with the depth of my heart, and with all those hormones that reacted when a woman saw the kind of man she would like to spend most of her nights with.
"Stilettos is what I should have called you, but I haven't forgotten you asked me to call you Sita, the second name is what I can't boast of remembering though the other fella mentioned it earlier." He seemed to be up for a night's tease. "How are you?"
He offered me his hand, but instead of going for a handshake, I resolved to greet him the African way, and that's by lowering a bit to have him pat my back with his hand the way old men do to young ladies and their wives, too.
"Are you bowing to me?" he asked.
I took his hand and made him pat my back, then, I stood upright with a smile. "We are no longer in Abidjan where everybody is French."
He narrowed his eyes. truth be told, not everyone in Abidjan is French, but we live with so much French and European culture.
"This is the land of the Kro," I uttered. "I'm not hundred percent certain how they live their life here, but I well enough that we should do more of adapting because we are staying longer than you think."
He nodded. He knew we would stay in the village for four whole weeks, but not just in one neighborhood. We will hit different neighborhoods in the course of our outreach.
"Okay, guess that was a cool way of greeting." He slopped his hands into his pockets and let out a sigh. It was cold out here, the breeze of the night was popping out on us from the surrounding water bodies.
"I heard people go on night strolls around this vicinity." He said; staring into my face, and mine doing the same. "How safe is this place for a stroll?"
My brows creased, probably into a V shape. I've done that a couple of times in front of the mirror in my room, so, I can tell the shape it forms on my face.
"Umm, not so sure, but if people are strolling at night, then, it should be far safer than we anticipated," I replied.
"Well, it was a hard decision to come here," he said, "I mean, we were told that just last week, there was a terror attack in one of the neighborhoods around."
"And that was what necessitated our mission here." The manager interrupted. "Pardon my manners, but the so-called rumored attack meant many patients of trauma, bullet wounds, people who need our free welfare and medical outreach."
He stood by me, maybe because it was more ethical to stand by your people while talking to a foreigner with a very different skin color and hair texture. That was kind of racist if properly reasoned, but maybe it was the ethical side of it, by the way, in Africa, there wasn't much racism against anyone, but there was this hate and wicked mockery of some disabilities like albinism.
Alessandro wasn't albino, so, he was far more on the safe side.
"But," the manager continued, "As for now, we are in the safest place anyone can be."
He crossed his hand over my shoulder, and his smile turned charming, the sort that would of course make a man with interest a bit skeptical and somewhat jealous.
But for heaven's sake, why would he cross his hand over my shoulder in the couples' lifeway, I shrugged it off. I'm not his wife, sister, or mother, I'm just a fellow philanthropist.
"You should have known I don't like bearing your kind of weight." I gave him a stern grin. "And thanks for briefing us on the safety of this area, because I and Alessandro are about to take a stroll."
He chuckled. "What?" his brows went on. "You are up for a stroll tonight because others are doing it?"
Alessandro nodded a yes, and I repeated the same thing. Of course, Alessandro said it, I'm not so sure, but I just wanted to have a moment with him.
"Come on, you two are too important to do what normal people do around here, and do you know why those men, look over there," he pointed towards the north, "Look those men, they stroll because there are bitches out there who suck pricks for a very meager amount."
I laughed. I couldn't hold it. how ridiculous men could be. they leave their homes and come here to offer their dicks to the so-called bitches. Well, those bitches should know I was once like them, but the difference is, the night I sucked Alessandro's member, I didn't ask for money.
"So, doctor, do you need someone to suck your dick, I can get one for you, a clean one at that." He said shamelessly.
"Come on, man, that's vulgar." Alessandro snapped. "I just want the breeze of the night, the peace of those trees and, maybe understand the nightlife of remote neighborhoods."
I said nothing, I merely wanted to let them have their words man to man and resolve it man to man, even with the manager being super vulgar, and if I should swear by my cunt, I will swear that I will break the head of any bitch that would offer to suck the same dick I sucked in the club the night we had a one-night stand.
"Don't mind me, fella," he tapped Alessandro's shoulder, "I was just being the good friend here. You can get kidnapped over there, so, go inside." He walked away; a defeated Satan tossed off from the sky.