My First Job With freedom from school, I did not know what to do. I caught the No. 44 bus and headed for the city centre via Pangani Chini. At Barclay’s bank I had to do a lot of fast-talking before I was allowed to see Mr. Williams my fishing buddy. When I got to his office his secretary, condescendingly told me that the “office boys entrance was at the back of the bank”. “Madam, I am not an office boy, I am here to see Mr. Williams,” I told her quite politely. “Do you have an appointment?” she asked quite angrily. “No. He said I could drop in any time,” I said, keeping my fingers crossed. “You cannot see him without an appointment. He is much too important a person to see you …” Before she could finish her sentence, I had already opened the door with her in hot pursuit. “He just barged in. I am sorry. I will get the office askaris,” she pleaded with Mr. Williams. “No, no. I know Mr Fernandes. I will see him,” Williams told her. He motioned me to the chair in fro...
Goans, East Africans et al