Flashout

Mariam gave me a bottle of tamarind juice, and asked whether I’d ever had it before. Not in this volume dada (sister), I said.

‘Just take your time kaka (brother), but be cautious. Tamarind is a flashout juice, everything has to get out of the system’, advised Mariam.

I resolved to imbibe it gingerly, lest it cause any emergency toilet runs.

At 6pm I could be found battling with a colleague about whether I could travel on Sunday for a work trip lasting all of next week. Not practical with needing to support the lower capacity in the team, now that colleagues need time to recover from their injuries.

I was looking very dishevelled, but I was very haphazard with my shaver. I knocked the setting to the highest blade length without realising, so half of my face looked like a newly shorn sheep hide. The only thing I could do was even up the other side, resulting in a barer face than I’ve had for around a decade. I don’t think it’s a look I’ll maintain.