Amaka was surely a looker. She was tall, slim, light-skinned and had a figure that would make Venus De Milo green with envy. She was the type to cause a stir wherever she went. Done with the university where she studied Banking and Finance, she was now a youth corper in one of the far-Northern states, attached to one of the biggest banks in Nigeria.
The first day of the first week
of the month is usually the busiest for most banks in that part of the country.
Bank halls usually bustle with an army of impatient government staffs eager to
withdraw their salaries. On one such day, Amaka’s branch manager summoned her
to his office.
“Do you want to be retained in
this branch?” the man said.
“Yes, sir!” she answered with
delight.
“Meet me at this address,
tonight.”
She was puzzled. Scribbled on
the reverse side of the card was the address of one of the most popular hotels
in the state capital. Not quite sure what to expect, she decided to make the
appointment, anyway.
Once in the hotel room, the
bank manager began to undress.
“What’s the meaning of all
these?!” she bloated in indignation.
“Well,” the man smiled, “it’s
either you sleep with me or you don’t get the job.”
What was she to do?
What would you do?
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