Bimpe

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Yesterday he turned sixty years old, and after the office party, Bimpe had promised Mr. Benson that she would treat him to lunch or dinner. He had looked forward to it especially since they both agreed that he had to relax; Mr. Benson worked too hard and who could blame him. His wife was constantly jetting around the world, visiting his children holidaying and shopping, he had to do the work to make those billable hours count; madam and the kids are spending, and Daddy is the ATM. Mr. Benson technically was home alone these days, his kids schooled abroad and sometimes he had difficulty remembering in which country his wife was in.

 

Therefore, in the times when he was not traveling for business, he found himself all alone in the Ikoyi mansion, and for a company, he had his scotch whiskey and his 75-inch television remained on CNN news until he fell asleep on his couch. That was what his life had become after over forty years toiling. So, when Bimpe said to him, “it’s my treat and I am not telling you where we are going” it was an opportunity to unwind, compliance was 100% and so Mr. Benson cleared his schedule excitedly, delegating work he would normally have handled himself. After all, he paid his staff well and wondered why he still had to do the heavy lifting.

 

As he was accustomed to, he was awakened by his wife’s phone call, she wanted to call him before calling it a night, he had set a distinct ring tone for her, and she always called to check on him, although he often thought she was checking to know if he was still alive - this was a private joke, he shared only by himself. After a short conversation, he bade her sweet dreams and ended the call. This was his cue to get up for that day was not a workday for him, he dashed in and out of the shower Humming and whistling to Aria, a track from Yanni as he got dressed, he stopped and wondered why people stocked their wardrobes with clothes they never wore; he shrugged and continued whistling excitedly like a schoolboy looking forward to a field trip.    

 

Mr. Benson had come to work casually dressed, in a white grandpa shirt and khaki chinos pants, and a pair of darkly tanned leather loafers. To everyone’s surprise, well not quite everyone because Bimpe knew what the day was about.

Bimpe, a girl with no complexities, dark-skinned, long permed hair which was neatly packed and clipped to the back, was a little short of a ponytail. She was sinfully curvy, with an alluringly seductive voice; one that makes repentance utterly impossible. She had this smile that was sure to attract a celibate and eyes that softly gazed at you, yes, those eyes defeated every will in a man, they made you say yes when you know you need to say no. You could hear them say please don’t say no.

 

Her look spelled innocence, quiet and peaceful, even with all this was her astounding beauty, and did I mention brilliance? She was extremely polite and respectful yet walked like her father owned the earth upon which she walked, in majestic strides, as and with every step her asset proportionately blended with the back, as if to ensure a perfect aerodynamic of some sort required to balance away with motion.

 

She was beautifully carved - Bimpe was a trap set in motion. She had a penchant for dressing well, long slits for ease of motion. Bimpe believes a girl must dress the way she wants to be addressed.

 

Mr. Benson had met Bimpe at the reception of his office when she came with her call-up letter seeking a place to carry out her NYSC service. She was a lawyer fresh from law school and it had always been her ambition to serve in a top-rated Law firm. Unfortunately, every attempt to get the receptionist's attention on that day met with an obvious blockade, but after three hours of waiting, Bimpe was more persistent. As she made another attempt to inquire from the receptionist if the practice manager was available once more, she got a harsh and sharp “sit down and wait” bark.

 

This had happened as the receptionist was receiving a VIP client, Chief Douglas, oh yes! The oil magnate. The law firm was one of the very few offices he visited, that’s because his friend, the managing partner, Mr. Benson, and himself went back a long way. Primary school to be exact. Douglas did not like to wait neither did Mr. Benson ever tolerate Douglas being delayed. Both men seized every business opportunity to catch up and play. Mr. Douglas always turned up with a few assistants who did all the paperwork while he and his friend spent time chatting or catching up on an endless chess game

Now you can imagine why the receptionist had every reason to bark at Bimpe, for interrupting the flow of Chief Douglas's steps, but then fate has a way of turning things around.

 

Mr. Benson was viewing the CCTV monitor in his office, watching to see as his friend made his way up to his office as he normally did even though they were speaking on the phone. He even chuckled as he saw the drama between the receptionist and Bimpe who went back to her seat as if to live to fight another day. Yes; it was her patience and persistence that caught his attention. Chief Douglas had barely sat down when Mr. Benson called the reception and asked that Bimpe be ushered to his waiting room, it was his way of making it up to the Youth Corper, without even asking for her name. He instructed the Practice manager to immediately meet with his niece, in his waiting room.

 

He was feeling hyper mischievous and had left explicit instructions that his niece be granted whatever she asked, even without knowing her name, while he gleefully watched from his CCTV monitor, one after the other his staff fell over and backward in an attempt to please the little girl, he had even asked the receptionist if his niece had been served accordingly while she waited in his waiting room. Tea, coffee, juice, assorted biscuits, and fruits appeared on two trays before the bewildered youth Corper all of a sudden and the poor girl was confused.

 

Bimpe was sure there was some sort of mistaken identity and was too afraid to touch what had been presented before her. This was until she had management and HR at her instance, all paperwork sorted identity and access cards issued, they even asked if she had a preference on departments, stating that it was customary for Youth Corpers to go round all the departments, but they would like her to choose where she would like to start from. 

 

it was a miracle, to say the least. Moreso,  to say a pool car and driver was provided to take her home.  As the car sped off towards the mainland on the third mainland bridge, she sat in the back of the car, still in shock, wondering what was going on, the driver had been given her home address by HR and had further instructions to pick her up the following morning.     

 

The following day she arrived on time and while she awaited HR to process her further the receptionist was asking if the Youth Corper wanted tea or coffee as she apologized for her harsh tone the day before to the poor girl’s surprise, she was at sea as to the sudden VVIP treatment she was suddenly receiving.

 

It was not until midday the following day that it dawned on her why she got all that attention. Her Extension had rung asking that she come up to the managing partners office as soon as she was less busy, it was a polite request, and as soon as she came through the PA ushered her into Mr. Benson's office; in a familiar tone, she smiled and said Bimpe your uncle is expecting you, please walk right in.      

To be continued..

Written by Ogi.