She got home at around 7 pm and performed her daily evening routine. She first unlocked her door, slammed it shut behind her, took off her heels and put them by the door and then hung her keys on the ‘key nail’ as she liked to call it. After that, she dropped her hand bag which also contained her laptop on her reading desk, and then headed for the kitchen to make sure there was food to eat before she took of her clothes.
“Phew, this beans didn’t spoil, thank God!” she said in relief.
She then took off her clothes and stuffed them into the laundry basket.
“How can someone mess up so many clothes in one weekend?” she said to herself as the struggled with the clothes in the rubber basket.
When she won the war between man and fabric, she finally stepped into the bathroom for the warm shower she had been dreaming of all day. The harmattan had dealt with her today and her studio partners refused to put off the AC. She always wondered if they had skins of leather. Especially David, he always had the sleeves of his pure cotton shirt rolled up while she on the other hand, had a vest, a jacket and neck tie on and she still felt cold.
The Female Igbo Architect 