Chapter 5: Hard Head Feminist
🗨
Mimi
Inside a dusty, abandoned Catholic Church at the far ends of the North, Mimi stood on a creaky podium, its planks threatened to yield as she paced up and down. Her forehead was lounged in her palm and her heart pumped furiously. It had been a stressful, pulse racing week preparing for this day.
She gazed back at her congregation, every face had an expectant demeanor.
"Brave women of the cause," That was all she needed, her confidence was back up. "We have been trolled!" her eyes gradually widened and her steps firmed. Planks creaked under her weight. "We have been called names, spat upon, denied basic rights," she counted on her fingers. "We have been seen as the tail." Her gaze brushed on the familiar faces and stopped on Gloria; the doctor in a white coat. She paused longer than necessary then brushed her gaze to Chidera who sat beside Gloria. She tamed her voice, "They said we are no better than the female dogs and goats." She shook her head and paced along. Planks creaking. "That ends today!" She pounded her fist in her palm. "That ends today!"
Suppressed murmur waved around the forty-something women perched on the rows of dusty benches. Altogether, they occupied ten benches; five on each row. The back benches were scanty.
Her voice overshadowed the murmur. "They have compared us to animals." She emphasized the last word. "And we shall behave like one. Our action here might prove an irony, but we would show the world what they want to see."
The crowd remained cold. In that silence, She sensed the uncertainty and nervousness that was embodied in their exhaled breath, and unfortunately, it was spiced with fear.
She knew what to do; she needed to refresh their memory. The planks creaked as she paced to her MacBook sitting on the stone alter, open. A can of water stood next to it; its cap barely corked. She directed the cursor to an icon that read 'Mark Antony' with about seven exclamations.
†
🗨
Mark
(four weeks earlier)
The moon was full and the halo around it shone effulgently. Inside apartment 9, sitting on a long couch facing the TV, Mark blindly reached for the popcorn cluchtched between his thighs. He was engrossed in the visuals of 'Vanish'. The movie, he already knows by continuous watching, would end on a sad note.
Instead of being grumpy when the movie ended, it promoted a different type of emotion in him-Gave him de Javu. He bit his lower lip at a memory of his Ex. His reaction was absurd considering that the woman in the said movie never came back to her husband even after death.
He picked his phone and clicked on Facebook. He had a message. It was From Her. A simple HI. He smiled. Exactly who he had in mind. He responded with a smiley emoji. And she replied immediately.
Gloria > I just wanted to check on you, hope you are fine?
It was never more than that, Mark thought before he began to type.
Mark > I just thought of the night we
He stopped and erased it. How are you?
She didn't respond until later that night after mark had completed two other movies and was about to switch the third. Saturdays were just for movies; his complete escape from the thoughts of work and people.
Her message didn't look like something that needed reply since it was plain, I am fine.
He messaged her anyway. We should vid call whenever you are free
Her call came in a few minutes later. His heart ached as he stared at the screen. He let it ring a while before sliding to answer. Her smiling face appeared. Her bouffant, blonde hair left him in awe. That was all that changed. Her puffy cheeks and brown eyes were still the same.
"Gloria!" His smile was broad.
"How are you?" she smiled too. "How is work?"
He wished she never spoke of work. But it was always the bases of their conversation, at first, he knew things would spice up. It was only a matter of time. She always tried to maintain a formal boundary.
"Fine...how is your hospital?" He asked.
"Fine fine." Chunks of pride unknowingly etched in between her words. Awkward silence hung heavy as they blushed under each other's gaze. It went on for another ten seconds. Give or take. Gloria spoke first. "Is this cool?" A dog filter appeared on her face. That was all it took to spark a conversation. Gloria always did the most whenever Mark said stop, and putting up a filter made Mark say,
"Stop," his smile got broader as he spoke. "You know I don't like these things, you better stop." He laughed.
She changed the filter, shuffling through the whole lot.
"You always do the most when I say Stop. That's no sign of respect." Mark was laughing but Gloria's face had straightened, behind the cat filter. And since his laughter swallowed his eyes, he hadn't seen yet.
"What do you mean by that?" she asked, expression flat. The filter fell off.
Mark's face gradually tightened. "What?" he raised his right brow. "Are you a feminist now?" he teased, one brow raised.
"Depends on who is asking." Her face as straight as a ruler.
"That's just wier...well, a good friend. Good enough?"
🗨
Gloria
Gloria was still staring straight into his eyes. "What do you think about feminism?" she tapped record, hoping to capture something for her project.
"Well," mark scratched his head. "I think it's awesome... I think,"
She chuckled inwardly. Her flat expression was killing it. She couldn't hold on anymore, she busted into laughter. "I am joking!" she bit her lower lip and a cat filter appeared over her face again. "I am joking, you should know by now. Water down. Do you like this one?" she puts up a frog filter with sad lips. Mark was back to laughing.
The truth is an unconscious tale. Gloria knew this. If she told him she was recording, his answers would be censored and dressed, she needed raw information.
"Take that shit off!" He said, but she saw that he liked it though. She change it to a princess with pink blushes.
"But really, what do you think about feminism?" She propped herself on the padded head of the bed and buried her fingers, into her afro.
"Well," Mark scratched his head. From his tone, she could tell he was calmer. She momentarily lust over his well-structured chest as she anticipated his reply.
"Personally, I think it is dumb." Her eyes climbed up to his face. What? Gloria could only ponder; too appalled to speak.
"Are you a feminist?" Mark asked again.
"Yes, I am...i am when I see someone stup-" she held her tongue. "I am just holding back Mark. I don't want my filter to slip."
He was smiling and it irritated her. How can he be smiling?
"Ohh, I am not your boyfriend, you can let it slip. Don't hold back." "But don't insult me." he added.
"What do you mean by dumb?"
🗨
Mark
Mark noticed that the mood got tensed but he didn't pay attention to it. The enthusiasm was drowning but suddenly it saw a lone branch stretching to save it. Although it seemed as though the branch poked it deeper into water. But it was just talk. Or so he thought.
His phone cried: low battery. He paused the video, threw off his cover, and crawled on the hard rug to his charger on the socket right next to the TV. He hovered the phone over his face and resumed the video. "I am against rape and all that other bullshit--" he continued but Gloria interjected.
"What other bullshit?" the lines on her furrowed brows curved angrily.
"You guys said you are being marginalized, right? " he raised his brows.
"Which guys?" her tone got sharper.
"I thought you said you are a feminist?" he was still smiling, or trying to remain smiling "I giv-"
"Yes I am." She stood up and her face went out of view. "Talk, I can hear you." her voice said with the camera dangling about the room.
Mark didn't talk. He listened to hear her footsteps, then a hiss and the slight dance of bottles. "I just need to get water." her voice broke in, sound and clear.
🗨
Gloria
She gulped the water directly from the bottle. She corked it and ducked it in the fridge.
"That's your goal right?" Mark's voice broke through her earpiece as she laid down with the phone still faced down. She was so disappointed.
"The main course of the movement?" Mark asked again, it didn't sound like a question.
"Yes? So you think fighting against premature marriage, rape and male dominance is dumb?"
"You know I don't like this one-sided conversation. Put your face back on."
Within the moment, the most unorthodox idea flashed through her mind. And it's was made up and sealed. She hovered her phone over her face.
🗨
Mark
He smiled at the view of her face. "I like the color of your hair." He said trying to sway the subject, noticing it was doing more harm. He was still smiling broadly.
"You haven't answered my question yet! You think fighting against rape is dumb?"
"I am fighting against it too. Haba, every rational man is fighting against it. It doesn't have to be a one-sided battle."
"So what makes it dumb?"
He hesitated for a while.
"Mark what makes it dumb?" her tone demanded an immediate response.
"Men are men and women are women." Mark said, gentle, but his tone got bolder as he continued, "A woman is born with a Virginia and not a-" he bit his tongue. "Sorry for the vulgar word."
"It's fine, it's not like I have not seen yours." It didn't sound like something she said.
"What?"
"You said a woman is not born with a penis, So?"
"I was at my backyard today," he pointed, "And I saw this redhead lizard chase down the female. You obviously know why?"
"What are you trying to say?"
"The way a lioness does the hunting or breastfeed a child. These are instincts that are hardwired in the brain."
"What does that have to do with this?"
"Throw a human, a bird and a lizard from a ten-story. The bird will fly away, the lizard will bounce on its little limbs and scamper away. The human; the alleged chosen ones with its high intellect will burst on the concrete floor. We are all predictors with different abilities." He didn't stop to catch his breath.
"So women are meant to be below men. Is that what you are saying, that we are all animals?"
"If you look at it from a certain point of view."
🗨
Gloria
She hung up. She got what she needed.
🗨
Mimi
(two weeks earlier.)
The night wept heavily. Pitter-patter, it slapped on the roof. Mimi propped on a couch, her professor glasses sat on her nose and a pen was pegged behind her ear. Clad in loose fitted singlet, her hardened nipples outlined on the surface. Her fingers on the touchpad controlled the cursor of the laptop on her thighs. A video of a shirtless boy speaking on feminism surfaced. Within weeks, it went viral. Mimi was browsing through the comment, liking the once that interest her. The faces on the video were blurred out, so it was basically audio.
A lot of disciples of the movement feasted on the the tape and expressed their opinion. Mimi was just one of these loyal disciples trying to get enough juice before wasting ink on pages of rant to add to the unnoticed thousands.
She got distracted by a knock on the door. It hit again. It was still pouring cat and dog outside. For a while, she wished it was Ossy, the reason her nipples were hard. She thought of his wet tongue around them. He had not called since the little argument yesterday. She placed the laptop on the glass table, scurried to the door and swung it open to the visage of a familiar stranger. The hood over the stranger's head didn't obscure her bouffant blond hair. The stranger's lips tore slight smile before saying, "I am Gloria." She stretched her hand and Mimi shook it. Mimi knew who she was but this was the most words she had spoken to her.
"Can I come in?" Gloria asked.
"Yes, sure sure." She gestured her to a couch. Gloria sat and crossed her legs.
"Can I get you anything?" Mimi asked.
"Water will be fine."
🗨
Gloria
The house was engulfed in the smell of tobacco. She looked around. Few painting, all quite similar to each other; of sun set and colorful trees. The TV was off, didn't look like what was used regularly. Her eyes spotted the image displaying on the laptop sitting on the glass centre table. Her heart soniced, but gradually reduced pace.
Mimi appeared with a glass and can of water. "Thank you." She reached for the cup.
"What do you think about that video?" she asked while Mimi poured into the cup she held out.
"About what?"
She nodded to the Laptop.
Mimi perched on the arm of the next couch. "I think it's outrageous. Women need Justice."
Her reply was typical. Exactly what Gloria hoped on.
"I admire your spirit," Gloria said, "And strength for the cause... I didn't see you at the meeting yesterday."
🗨
Mimi
It wasn't an option telling her about the fight with Ossy. It was personal. But more importantly what was Dr. Gloria doing in her house. "I caught a little cold." She lied
"Oh."
Mimi expected more but the doctor seemed finished. Gloria unzipped her bag and brought out a white envelope and pressed it to her thighs. The dr's nervousness was evident on her face.
"Last month you said you wanted to do more for the movement..." Gloria paused and looked down on the envelop pressed to her knee. "How far were you talking about?"
"Enough." Her answer was quick to slip through her lips. "Miles and miles enough." She scrutinized Gloria face, tried to find answers. "What is that in your hands?"
"Your name is famous on the lips on the soldiers-member's of a feminist group-they say you have some certain connection..." Gloria stretched the last word nervously.
Mimi stretched for the water, suddenly feeling thirsty. She uncorked it and gulp directly. "Depends on the type of connection. I have a blog if thats-"
🗨
Gloria
"Look at this." She stretched the letter to Mimi. "It's from Chidera."
"Chidera?" Mimi's eyes widened slightly.
"Just read it." She took a deep breath that wasn't necessary. She watched Mimi tear the envelope, and with a throbbing pulse, she anticipated the shock that was prone to widen In Mimi's eyes, few seconds later and ticking.
She observed Mimi to sense a squirm as she perused the paper. Mimi had probably covered the part that was meant to jolt her, yet, her ear hasn't raised the pen pegged in-between in shock.
Mimi reached for the pen behind her ear and began to tap on the white sheet. "Chidera is fully aware of this?" she craned to her.
"Hand written." Gloria said, taming her racing pulse.
"I can see that." Mimi looked back at the letter and she seemed to be reading it again.
"Can I have a cigarette?" Gloria asked.
"I just ran out some minutes ago."
Gloria nodded.
"Is this possible?" Mimi locked gaze with the doctor. "The thing this letter says, Is it possible?"
'Yes,' Gloria thought, 'Theoretically not that i have tried it before.' "Absolutely...with a qualified doctor at least."
"A doctor...a doctor like you?" it didn't sound like a question though.
"If you grant me that honour."
🗨
Mimi
She needed a stick of cigarette, and needed it now. She picked her phone and dialed John's number.
"Who are you calling?" Gloria asked.
"Cigarettes. Are you still interested?"
"No I..." she trailed off as though she didn't need to explain further.
Mimi nodded. John answered and she asked for a pack of Dunhill.
"You understand that this is really secret." Gloria said once Mimi hung up.
"What is it?" Mimi shrugged irritably. "Your first time to get your hands dirty or what?"
🗨
Gloria
Her work there was done. She stood up and headed for the door. "I would keep in touch." She left.
🗨
Mimi
Later that evening, she padded up and down in her sitting room pondering about the letter in her hand. She reached for the pack of Dunhill in response to a great urge. She worked the flint of the lighter past four times before the little flame appeared. She inhaled deeply and as she puffued, she raised the letter into view again, not particularly reading it.
Finally. Finally. Mimi thought, we have come to our senses. There are no threats in words. Only Action determines results. She abandoned the cigarette on her lips and scurried to her laptop sitting on the couch. She inhaled whilst her fingers typed her password.
🗨
Chidera
(one week earlier.)
The greyed haired woman swirled her whisky in her glass before she took a sip. She stood by her window, her gaze locked on the moon and other shiny stars. It was a quiet night, but a battle was ongoing inside her. She was sure and aware of what she was doing. Her mind was made up, but there was this voice; so stale, as tiny as the light at the end of the tunnel. But no matter how small, light can never be unnoticed in darkness. So the voice bugged her. The phone in her other hand beeped. She looked and saw a message from Mimi. She gazed at it for a while then killed the screen and gazed back at the moon.
Some minutes later, after pondering about creation, and the theory of everything, she craned back to her screen and it came alive. she began to type.
Good evening Dr.
Her message delivered.
Gloria replied few minutes later.
I have been trying to reach you. Any problem?
Had a little cold. She lied. In reality, her moral was depleting.
Okay... So are we still game?
I just got a text from Mimi. It's a go.
Gloria replied with multiple smiling emojis.
Dr, this world... This world can make you loose your soul. It can change one's point of view and make one begin to see from the world's point of view.
Yes... I know. Very evil place. Another message followed. The world's point of view?
the general way of seeing things; The view that violence is an effective way of obtaining result. Another message followed suit. Terrorism.
Terrorism? No one is talking that.
They would once the video gets out.
Gloria didn't reply immediately. She replied after Chidera must have showered, creamed her body and entered her voil nightgown. She knelt by the bed and prayed. Silently. She crossed herself and motioned into the cover. She grabbed the other pillow that was rarely warmed by her husband's head, and propped her back. She reached for a book on the nightstand and leaved the pages. She read past twenty pages before she lost interest. She closed the book at once and pulled the lamp's switch. That was when Dr Gloria replied. Beep. She reached for her phone and the message appeared.
I thought you said its a green from Mimi? besides this violence is different. Don't you believe I can do it?
Chidera looked at the message long enough to be read past ten times.
🗨
Gloria
(four days earlier)
Only a white towel wrapped loosely around her chest. She sat in her all white room. Her head was craned to her laptop screen, and her fingers typed furiously as she replied Mimi.
I know all these things. She followed up with a picture.

That was our last conversation. It is a screenshot from his phone. Our other communication are untraceable.
And he is currently in your basement?
It was as if she saw Mimi's uncertain demeanor through the text, but her mind's eyes saw him girded to an operation bed, totally unclad.
Yes he is. She replied.
See you tommoow Dr. I am just checking on you now the clear video had sufficed.
🗨
Mimi
(Now)
She paused the video and looked over her laptop to the now furious eyes.
"Justice!" one of the women yelled and few other people follow. Even people that didn't know why.
Mimi walked around the alter and perched on it. "Dr Gloria here," she pointed to the blonde Dr in her white coat sitting beside Chidera, amid other women.
"Yes Dr Gloria. She is a great women. She is a complete woman. She has greased our rusted hinges and has given our cause a course for action." She descended the brief stairs. "For our new comers," her eyes locked with one obvious first comer. She could tell from the stranger's abstract features that she is a man. although her obvious features said differ. She admired the strangers perspective to life. She gave a nod of acceptance then flashed a warm smile. "What is your name?" Mimi stretched her hand and she shook it. "Sharon." Mimi nodded. "Beautiful name..." She turned back and climbed the podium.
She faced the paused image projected above and said, "Someone like Sharon wouldn't know how hard we have worked for today." She turned to face them. "She probably knows the reason we are here, but she doesn't know how hard we worked to be here." She lowered her head in her palm. In absence of her voice, one could hear the wind rustle dry leaves outside the church. It lasted some seconds before a muffled voice called the doctor's name. "Gloria." Barely audible, but the church was silent enough.
Her ears stood on hearing the voice. She locked gaze with the doctor. It was her name the voice called."Put on your mask," She said generally, but her gaze was locked with the doctor. "It is time."
Moments later, she and Dr, now in a black hijab, moved towards the sanctuary.
🗨
Mark
His eyes were opened under the blindfold. He called her again, "Gloria!" He was firmly girded, bareback, to a medical bed. More absurdly, he could feel the cold breeze of hamatarn nurse his skin; his chest, his thighs, his stomach and the thing in between. Even the hand he felt on his stomach now was directly on his skin. There was only one guess but he let it slide. He let it slide because he consented for this. Although dozing him with sleeping injections and keeping him in her basement wasn't part of the plan. If only he knew where he was now. He wasn't only drugged. He was transported.
"Mark, it is time." Gloria said gently and removed her hand from his stomach.
"I am ready...If this is what I have to do to make it right with you. But I hope you know what you are doing."
🗨
Deborah
The brothel's hallway was washed in red light, and deborah clad in bikini padded through. She stood before room 146 and cross-checked her key card. It's was 147. She moved to the next door and pressed the bell. The door slightly opened and she slipped in. Inside was chilled and smelt of tobacco. She gazed the potbellied man she was about to fuck, head to toe and flashed a warm smile when her eyes climbed up his face.
He sat on the bed. "How are you?" his voice was thick and slow.
She responded with a smile then proceeded to him. He was a quick one, that before she could conclude her thoughts on why boys were fags since girls had butthole, he was already fidgeting behind her. Deborah adjusted her pant that she had shifted to the side and watched the potbellied-man button upto collar before entering a black suit. He left a bundle of money on the nightstand and perked her forehead before he exited the room.
Deborah propped on the bed. She reached for the man's abandoned pack of cigarette from the nightstand and slid one stick out. She worked the flint but the lighter seemed broken. She gave up then picked the remote and began to browse the channels. Nothing interesting caught her eyes. She stopped at one. A suited man stood before a weather map pointing his ruler. She skipped the channel with a sigh. She paused when she thought she saw something intriguing. She pressed two channels back,
And,
Three hijab clad women standing behind a naked man tied to a medical bed, showed on the screen. The woman in the middle held a paper to view. She was reading something but the TV was mute. The woman by the left held a knife and the sight made Deborah more interested. The moment she pressed the unmute button, the power went off and she was left in complete darkness; as if the moon didn't rise that night. It was only momentarily. The power was back on but Deborah had lost interest. She needed to clean up for her next customer.
🗨
Urichindu
(Seven hours after broadcast.)
It was a small library that accommodated four shelves. Urichindu sat before a white table mounted by the extreme of the library, punching keys on her laptop. An acquaintance would not guess she was doing her assignment- Use Of Library assignment. She looked over to her phone for the hundredth time. Her fingers tickled to touch, anxious to know the activities in her blog. She gazed back at the unfinished text on her laptop screen while her fingers hovered over the keyboard. then the procastinative thought flashed her mind. She had more time.
She grabbed her phone and switched her flightmode off and the network bars popped. Messages flooded immediately. And a call right after. Her lips tore into a slight smile at the caller's ID
"Hell..."
Mmesa didn't let her greet. "Have you seen that video? We have finally taken the next step!" Mmesa said enthusiastically.
"Calm down Mmesa," She relaxed on her chair. "What video?"
"You haven't seen the video?"
"No, what video?"
"There is this group calling themselves Hard Head Feminist... Just check for it, it's everywhere! I mean they cut that guy's throat ear to ear."
she cliped the phone with her shoulder and began to type on her laptop. True, the video popped out when she typed in the key word. And the headline wasn't appealing to the eyes.
"I will call you back." she absentmindedly ended the call, waiting for the video to buffer.
It started and her heart sunk. The visual started with three hijab clad women standing behind what looks like an alter. Behind them, a poster hovered above them with HARD HEAD FEMINIST largely imprinted on it.
"Hello world," the woman in the middle read from a paper. "We are the Hard Head Feminist and we are here to send a message to the people, most especially to our government. Of course there is a fuss about the video out and yes," she nodded. "We take full credibility!" she paused a while and Urichindu's heart thud rapidly. "We have been ignored," the woman continues. "and inhumanely marginalized, but I guess it would be hard to do that after today. We hereby demand our over emphasized rights that has been blindly ignored." she flipped the page and continued.
"Equal pay for equal work.
Equal education and job oportunities. Free contraception.
Free 24-hour community-controlled childcare.
Legal and financial independence for women." She flipped the page again.
"An end to discrimination against lesbians.
Freedom for all women from intimidation by the threat or use of male violence.
An end to the laws, assumptions and institutions which perpetuate male dominance and men's agression towards women." she finally looked up from the paper and the video cuts.
The next video was probably the one with the sliting of the throat; it was evident on the icon. Urichindu contemplated to watch it but the door squeaked and she looked and saw her mother. A stern look was plastered on her face. Urichindu got the wordless message and switched off the laptop and handed it to her mother.
"I warmed you." her mother said, disappointed.
"I am sorry mom."
🗨
Chidera
(Seven hourse after broadcast)
Mark laid on a medical bed, free from retrain and she stood beside the bed, craned to him. A white bandage wrapped around his neck and head and it was hard to tell if it was him. This was the closest she had with him. Even during the broadcast, as she read from the paper, she made a point not to look at him. She tried but couldn't fade out that continues beep that echoed around the makeshift hospital room. Not even the thoughts of the things she had witnessed in the past seven hours could drown the beep from invading her ears. Beep. Beep. Beep.
She tilted her head towards the rusty door that squeaked as it opened
🗨
Mimi
A smile was on her face but it wasn't that widely torn; her white teeth were barely showing. She closed the door behind her.
"Doctor Gloria did it!" she glanced at Mark and back to Chidera. She noticed the lines curved on her face. "What is the problem professor? You don't look alright." She observed.
"Of course I am not."
Mimi didn't speak at once. She craned to unconscious mark and In that momentarily silence, the beeping filled the room. All she could imagine was if it went flat. At least he was alive.
"Can we talk outside?" she is pointing to the door.
"I keep regretting it. We might have made a mis-" The old professor was saying but Mimi interjected.
"No professor," she waved her index in the air whilst shaking her head "No, we didn't make a mistake."
"Yes we did" Chidera gazed at mark. "We slit his throat on tape and somewhere in the world about ten thousand suited men and women are currently sitting behind a camera condemning our act."
"But one million other people and still counting are applauding us."
Just then Dr. Gloria walked in and the duo tilted to her.
🗨
Gloria
Her calm state appalled her. She had thought that by now her conscience would have weighed on her. Maybe, it was the beep that echoed that released toxins that calmed her nerves. Surgery successful. Mark was alive, but he was reborn for greater purpose.
🗨
Mimi
She noticed that the doctor's bouffant hair was dyed black but she didn't comment.
"Doctor..." It was meant as a greeting or whatever but Mimi waited for the doctor to speak.
"Doctor," Chidera said, "I like the new look"
"Thank you." a smile tore on her face.
The awkward silence gave room for the beep to be audible. She looked at doctor Gloria who focused on Mark. She expected her to speak anytime soon.
Two minutes later the room was still quiet.
"Doctor, you promised to tell the professor today."
"Tell me what?" Chidera was alerted.
Still looking at Mark, Gloria dug in her coat pocket and brought out a letter and stretched backward to Chidera.
"The envelope thing again? Mimi thought. "Can't you just tell her?"
"No," the doctor looked directly into her eyes and her newly dyed Afro stole Mimi's concentration. "letters would be preferable at this stage. You don't want your voice finding its way in to a tape held by every security director."
"In a century of Emails," Chidera looked up from the letter. "laptops and continuous violation of our privacy, the old ways are better." she craned back to the paper for a moment "You say this is already done?"
"What is already done?" Mimi's anxiousness was visible on her face. Obviously not what she and the doctor discussed earlier.
"Oh the letter is for you too." Dr Gloria was smiling.
Chidera passed the letter to Mimi and she perused it quickly.
🗨
Gloria
The initial shock the doctor anticipated when Mimi read the first letter, now raised in her ears.
"It's done?" Mimi looked up from the letter.
She nodded.
She gazed at mark and they all flowed suit.
****
End*
I want to know your thoughts on this. You can hit me up anytime to talk about it.
I think feminism is great!
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Thank you so much for reading, you are the best! More intriguing stories ahead!
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