Blackass Read Online Free PDF Page A

said fiercely. ‘Yes, it is.’
    Arinze gave a slight shrug as he spoke his next words. ‘Second question then. Do you have any ID that confirms you’re Nigerian? Like a passport or driving license?’
    ‘I don’t,’ Furo said, relieved it was the truth, and as Arinze watched him in silence, he added, ‘Actually, I have an old passport, but I left it in a place I can’t go back to.’
    Arinze took a long drink of coffee. ‘We can’t risk any allegations of illegally employing a foreigner, so you’ll need to get a passport before you start with us. Is that OK?’
    ‘Yes,’ Furo answered. He hadn’t the faintest idea of how to go about getting a passport, but his joy would not be spoiled by a predicament in his future. A future that hadn’t existed just minutes before. A strong breeze from the open French windows fanned his excitement, gave him the courage to ask, ‘And your third question?’
    Sip, replace mug, and rub hands together. Arinze was a creature of methodical action, Furo could tell. Already he felt his heart filling with respect for the man he would soon call boss.
    ‘When was the last time you read a book?’
    At this question, Furo’s heart skipped, and he strained to keep his disappointment from showing. The truth had served him thus far in answering Arinze’s questions, but the truth this time was inimical to him. And what was the truth? He read newspapers for job announcements. And on his smartphone he read Facebook and Twitter, blogs and news websites, ephemera of the World Wide Web … and not forgetting the countless rejection emails from all the companies he had applied to for jobs. The whole truth and nothing else was that he’d read no books since 2007, not since he got the pain in his neck from studying for his final examinations.
    Furo had dreaded this question ever since he saw the newspaper advert announcing a salesperson position with a company that sold business books. He had applied for the job despite his misgivings, after first altering his résumé to add ‘reading’ to his hobbies, and he was ecstatic when he received the email inviting him for an interview. It was only his second invitation in three-plus years of submitting job applications. On the same day he got the email, he decided on the book he would use as his cover. I love Things Fall Apart , he’d planned to say, it teaches us about our culture, where we as Africans are coming from. But in fact he chose that book because he was forced to read it in junior secondary and still remembered the storyline. Even the opening line: Okonkwo was well known throughout the nine villages and even beyond. And in his head the voice of Mr Zikiye, his English Literature teacher, still droned: The white man in this book is a symbol of progress. Okonkwo fought against the white man and lost. Progress always wins, that’s why it’s progress. Now tear out a sheet of paper, you have a test.
    The test that now faced him was as difficult as any he’d encountered in school. He was almost certain he wouldn’t get the job if he spoke the truth. For how could he, when the last book he’d read was a biochemistry textbook for his BIC 406 exam? But if he told a lie and was caught out by Arinze, forget the almost, he was certain he would lose the job. Suddenly oppressed by a full bladder, Furo wriggled his sweating toes in his shoes, and soon began to think not only of what to answer but also of how to explain why it took him so long to answer. When Arinze’s chair squeaked, Furo looked up, his thoughts in a whirligig, his body tensed for disappointment. He saw Arinze put down his mug, and after rubbing his hands together, he heard him say:
    ‘But will you read the books we sell?’
    ‘Oh yes, I will!’ Furo responded, his voice cracking with eagerness. ‘I promise I will.’
    ‘Good man,’ Arinze said. ‘So let’s get down to details. The position I’m offering you is Marketing Executive. You’ll be my point man, my big gun,