Daniel fanned himself as though doing so would fan away his anxiety. The room was cold enough to emphasize his nervousness as he found himself sweating profusely and reviewing the possible questions he could be asked. He was relieved when he looked around and found mutual expressions on the faces of the other men, as though they all knew that they would have to impress the CEO twice as hard, if they were to dream of getting hired. The women on the other hand, had smug, almost superior look on their faces as though they were hundred percent certain on getting hired. He scoffed. After all, they were women. They didn’t have to work twice as hard or use affirmative action to land them jobs that although very tedious, earned them a pay a few cents above minimum wage.

He brushed his skirt and fixed the broches on his shirt. He thought he looked okay. He hoped he looked okay. Dressing mattered a lot when it came to job interviews. He had decided against wearing a trouser suit because it looked too masculine, and if he looked too masculine, he would not be taken seriously. Looking around, he knew the other men thought the same thing.

“Mr. Daniel Osu- whatever, you’re next.” A woman called from the office. He tried not to feel insulted about the woman not even bothering to attempt to pronounce his name properly. He cleaned his sweaty palms on his skirt and stood up, taking a deep breath in before walking through the door.

“Good afternoon, Ma’am.” He said. The woman, dark-skinned with a scowl etched on her face, nodded in acknowledgement, not bothering to look up.

“You may take a seat.” He sat down.

The woman looked up and he took his time to analyze her face. It was caked with concealer a shade lighter than her face and her eyeliner stretched across her eyelid, meeting her eyebrows and giving her a threatening look. Her lips were painted a dark shade of purple and her hair was held up in a tight afro bun. She looked like a villain that had just walked out from a comic book.

She looked up and caught him staring. She smiled and mumbled something to herself. Daniel felt his heart skip a beat. Had he done something wrong? Was there anything wrong with his dressing? He looked down and dusted imaginary dirt off his shirt and smoothed out whatever creases he saw, but still her eyes lingered on him, or rather, on his chest. He felt goosebumps grow on his arms when her eyes stayed fixed to his chest, not moving, openly staring at his chest. Under her gaze he felt naked and ashamed of himself for sitting down and letting her stare at him like that. He would not say anything because he needed this job. He desperately needed this job.

She picked up his C.V and scanned through it, humming in a way that made him break into cold sweat. His heart skipped a beat when she abruptly dropped his file and stared into his eyes. She smiled and let her eyes fall back to his chest.

“It says here that you studied Economics at Yale. Is that true?” He nodded, thinking to himself that it wouldn’t be there if he hadn’t.

"Are you deaf or dumb? When I ask you a question I expect an answer."

"Yes, Ma'am, I did." She hummed and went back to scanning his documents.

“Economics, you say. Wasn’t that too hard? You should’ve done a more masculine subject. Men don’t normally go for tedious courses like Economics.”

He had no reply. Variants of what she had said had been drummed into his ears ever since he had told his parents that he wanted to be an economist. His mother had looked at him, eyeball to eyeball and laughed, saying that boys couldn’t be economists; their brains were relatively too small to process economical dealings. His father had only nodded in agreement. Agreeing with his mother was the only thing he seemed capable of doing. Plus, it kept the house peaceful.

Anyways, he had worked his way through graduating with a first class degree in Economics as one of the few men studying the course in of all schools, Yale, that had just started accepting male students.

“How did you get in?”

“Pardon?” 

“I asked how you got into Yale.”

Intimidated by her scowl, he visibly gulped before feebly replying. “Well, I got a scholarship.”

She smiled and nodded. He knew that she had wanted to hear that; that he was just some random poor boy that affirmative action had helped get into an Ivy League school, and not the truth which was that his grades had gotten him a seat at the prestigious institution, because that would seem like a lie. After all, men were not smart enough to achieve such heights.

“You’re hired.” She said out of nowhere and he visibly gasped, unable to hide his surprise that he had gotten the job just like that. Was it too much to believe? He stood up and clasped his hands, thanking her.

She waved his gratitude away and smiled at him. “You’re a fine boy, do you know that? And I like you.” She pulled him by his collar closer to him and before he could properly process what was happening, he felt her sticky lips on his. He shut his eyes and tightly and refrained from saying anything.

She let go and he fought the urge to scream and allow the tears pooling in his eyes fall. She couldn’t catch him crying. If she did, she would think him a dick and just another stupid, overly emotional and sensitive dumb man.

“You start work tomorrow. Be early, but come to my office first.” She shooed him away and he bowed his head, ready to take his leave.

“Yes Ma’am.” He started for the door before she stopped him.

“And one last thing? Call me mummy.”

He cringed. “Yes Ma- mummy.”

He shut the door behind him.

Tomorrow, he would come early for work, dressed in a V-neck shirt and a pencil skirt. He would greet his co-workers before making his way to ‘Mummy’s’ office.

She would offer him a drink and he would politely decline it until she threatens him with his job. He wouldn’t- can’t object to her stroking his exposed chest, because his mouth is sealed shut for fear of what she would do if he resisted her. He would bid his mouth shut when she begins taking off his clothes, one by one, apparel by apparel, and leading him to the couch. He would endure the pain and fear gripping his chest, feigning moans and telling himself he was doing this all for his job, and then he would walk out of her office when she was done, limping and with tears in his sockets blurring his vision, wondering if it was worth it, wondering if his job was worth all the pain.

He went to his new cubicle and began to arrange his things, getting ready for his first day at work. Later, a woman came to his desk and dropped a letter for him. It was from Mummy.

‘Come back by 6 p.m.’