Bedroom Whispers

Islamiyyah

To others, the customers were kings. To me, she was a queen.

I sat in my cubicle, every day, and monotonously ran wads of currencies through a money counting machine. The only thing I had for diversity was the different faces that approached me daily.

"Next customer, please!"

Sung ever so soothingly during my first few weeks at the bank, I discovered it was the best lyrical line to the ears of the never-ending crowd that trooped in daily for their cash transactions. As much as we tried to, they were never convinced to utilize the e-platforms made available for them.

"Next customer, please!"

My voice was getting louder as weeks went by. This is not to sound prejudiced, but the facts were that we were situated in a Yoruba locale, in Nigeria, and they (the clients, majorly Yorubas) were loud people. Their conversations were loud. Their voices were sharp and abrasive. My voice was soon drowned in this atmosphere. I had to adapt.

"Next customer, please!"

I dished out my anthem with a very big smile as its wrapper. And joyfully they danced to my cubicle, to be attended to. Or not so joyfully on some days. Some customers were naturally grumpy and seemed to have the ability to pass it on to others. Well, I was naturally a calm person and I determined to gift all customers with a smile.

"Next customer, please!"

Each customer was as unique as the flakes of falling snow. I met with diverse people from all works of Nigerian life. Well, almost. Although predominantly Yoruba, I encountered different tribes, different ethnic groups, different religions, different social standings, and all ranges of the age bracket.

From the air-conditioned office man in his straight, grey suit, to the market woman in her apron dripping with sweat and the smell of raw fish. The child who just walked in to pay her school fees, to the old man with his cane who has come for his monthly pension withdrawal. The young, the old, and everyone in between.

"Next customer, please!"

I learnt the art of small talk. I wouldn't say I mastered it but I passed for a good starter of small talk, at least for those who piqued my interest. Being a people watcher, I now walked in a strange territory where I had to meet people. I started with giving out compliments, and I needed to be sincere. So I watched them from the queue and prepared my sling.

"I love your eyes. It has a certain glow around it." The smile emits. Great shot! "That dress looks good on you. You have good eyes for choosing colours." Another smile. Great shot. The more spontaneous ones, I just pick their names. "This name, could you help with the pronunciation? ... Where are you from? ... Wow. It's a place I've been longing to visit. I heard you have great food..." We turn buddies. Great shot! I high five my inner self. You're doing well!

"Next customer, please!"

Not all days were rosy. On some days, I just wanted to go home and lie all day in bed. Food wasn't even on my mind on those kinds of days. I just needed my alone time and space, but this was work. This was where I got my pay at the end of the month, and there were customers to be serviced. I had to smile. I couldn't let down those people. And smile I did, or so I thought. I had noticed her staring at me during one of my intermittent queue sweeps. A free colleague had called but she decided to wait for my call.

"Next customer, please!"

She talked before I had the chance to greet her. "What's wrong with you today? You're not smiling." There I was thinking I had a plastered smile. I apologized, excused myself, and hurriedly went to do a quick face-check at the bathroom.