Misus and Betrayal

Misus sat in the reception with sweaty palms. Butterflies filled his stomach and he felt like running, both to the toilet to vomit up the contents of his stomach and home to hide for the up coming interview. Unfortunately, he could not.

This was his last chance to get on his feet again. If he messed this up, then their suffering was going to carry on for a while longer.

"Misus Imaginah," a voice called out, dragging Misus from his thoughts and back to reality.

"Misus Imaginah!" The voice called out again, louder than the first time, forcing Misus to jump to his feet while shouting.

"I'm here! I'm here."

He found the person who had called out to him. It was a short woman with greying hair and an old leathered face. Wrinkly and pale, she had tiny beady eyes that seemed to always be squinting.

Her eyes surveyed his body, making Misus overly conscious of his faded jacket, once-white yellowed shirt, patched grey trousers and slightly unkempt hair.

He rubbed the sweat on his palms on his trousers and stood nervously as he waited for the next set of instructions.

After what seemed like an eternity, the old woman, having surveyed Misus enough, scoffed and turned away. She took her seat behind the counter and looked at the computer screen before waving Misus on. "You can go in."

Misus nodded and with a small bow, walked into the room behind the brown door.

The sound of the door opening drew the attention of the man behind the huge desk. He raised his head to look at Misus who was walking into the room and was greeted by a warm smile. He sat straight and, with one last look at the papers he had in front of him, he face Misus.

"You're the next candidate?" He quizzed.

Misus nodded. "The last actually," he added.

"Take a seat," the man said. He gestured to the chair positioned in front of him. Then he began to arrange the papers on his desk.

Misus pulled back the chair and sat down, just as the man finished. The feeling of nervousness had reached its peak. He could already feel his breakfast in his throat. It threatened to come out of his mouth if give the slightest opportunity.

He pulled his lips into a line and gritted his teeth. He waited, although on edge for the interview to begin.

The man on the other side of the desk, on the other hand, seemed as calm as a sea. He stared at Misus critically for a while before beginning the line of questioning.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Misus Timothy Imaginah."

"And how old are you?"

"43."

"And why do you think you're fit for this job?"

For a moment Misus felt like revealing his situation to the interviewer; the owed rent, the hunger, the bills. Everything. But he had been to other interviews and knew for a fact that it wouldn't make his interview go any better.

What the interviewer wanted to know was hard facts. Or at least what seemed like hard facts.

"I believe I'm fit for this work," Misus began, "Because I have a complete understanding of the work this job entails. I believe that I can not only fully deliver what is required but also more."

"And what qualities do you posses that gives you this belief?"

"I am extremely observant and I'm really attentive to details. I'm very diligent and I don't leave until I get the job done."

The man nodded slightly and looked up from the notes he was writing straight at Misus. "That's a bold claim you're making," he said. "In cases where the work keeps you for long hours over long periods of time, how would you deal the corresponding burnout that may follow."

Misus smiled lightly before he spoke. "I'm fortunate to have a loving wife and family who keep my grounded and able to rest and recover my energy. And I'm not afraid to take a break."

The man looked surprised.

"You're married?" he asked.

"Yes. And I have been for the past 15 years."

"Congratulations," he said, penning something down in his jotter. "I don't know why that surprised me. Do you have any kids?"

Misus nodded. "Three."

"Are they in school?" the man asked.

Misus smile drily, "Not at the moment."

The man looked at him inquisitively. "Why not?"

"Well my wife and I are currently between jobs and we're unable to source the funds to pay their fees. We decided to keep them at home and let them help their mother."

The man looked at Misus with pity in his eyes but continued his questions. Misus didn't know. He didn't know that if the interviewer was aware his children hadn't eaten in almost a week because of their lack of money,

Or that because of the bullying from their landlords last son, they had injuries that could be potentially life threatening, especially in their deplorable condition, the man would have been tempted to give him the job.

But he didn't know. And even if he did he wouldn't have told. Desperation might have led him to before, but never again. He had learned and he wasn't about to repeat it.

"Okay. Do you have any experience managing in this line of work?" the man asked. "It also said in your resume that you worked with Shemané Okofo, could you talk more on that?"

"Eh," Misus tried to recollect all the most notable jobs he had done in the past 15 years. "I worked with Clean and Green on their 3-day Save the Planet March 3 years ago. I was the head manager."

"Wait, that year's Save the World March was you?"

Misus nodded.

"You did a really good job there. It is one of their best marches till date." The man said.

"I also worked with Park Mason in their clean up 5 years ago, though it wasn't a major role. And about that job I worked on with Shemané Okofo, I didn't get to work directly with him. We were just contracted by the same company."

"So it was just there to boost your resume?"

Misus smiled sheepishly and nodded.

"Well, Mr Imaginah," the man began , "Going by your resume, you're the only person fit for the job. What's even better is the fact that you have evidence to back up most of the things on it."

He paused for moment before continuing. "However, I have a question. It say here that you started your own company that took on most of the jobs you listed here. Why aren't you currently working for them?"

Misus flinched and pain flashed in his eyes. The kind of pain associated only with betrayal and deep betrayal at that. The pain ran so deep he couldn't open his mouth to speak. For the first time in the interview his expression went dark and his breathing became unstable.

How could he begin to speak of the pain he had experienced in the past half year?

How could he begin to talk about the betrayal he faced just before that?

How could he open his mouth and affirm a truth he had been suppressing for months?

That his best friend for 20 years joined hands with his rival to kick him out of the business they had started together.

That the people he thought he could trust have gone out of their way to make his life miserable.

That just a month ago he was in court battling false charges leveled against him by people he called family.

How could he speak such evil against people he still held dear to him?

Misus took deep breaths trying to calm himself down. The man took the initiative to correct himself.

"If it's not something you can talk about, then please don't force yourself," he assured Misus.

Misus smiled sadly. "Thanks for understanding."

"How soon do you think you can start working? Because if all goes well, we'll need you to start by Monday." The man asked, rising from his chair.

"I'll be ready by then." Misus said standing from his seat as well. He was happy he had gotten the job but he didn't get his hopes up. It wasn't the first job he'd landed in the past month. It wasn't even the second or third.

He was acutely aware of why he lost those ones, so he wasn't optimistic. When someone has made it their life's goal to crush you into nothing, it's hard to stay standing.

But that was exactly what he was going to do.