February by Nick Nwaogu - HTML preview

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Tega’s cursing halts Kunle’s writing. Kunle pauses, slowly looks away from the paper, and glances at Tega disapprovingly.

 

KUNLE (vexed)

 

You asked me a question and I answered. So why are you cursing me?

 

TEGA (angrily)

 

If you talk for there again I go sand you. E be like say you no sabi your mate for here again.

 

Kunle reverts to his routine without any further utterance. Tega dips his hand into his trouser pocket and pulls out an OLD-FASHION phone. He fiddles with the stiff keypads for a bit before raising the phone to his ear.

 

BACK TO:

 

 

INT. RECEPTION HALL, ST. NICHOLAS HOSPITAL - CONTINUOUS

 

A phone call comes through, as the Officer’s phone is INDISTINCTLY heard ringing. CLOSE ON a white plastic name-tag pinned to his uniform, just above his left breast pocket, which reads: “FEMI KOLAWOLE”.

 

FEMI appears to be ABSENT-MINDED, staring at the STRAIGHT face of the Hospital RECEPTIONIST, with his face wrinkled by a FROWN, hoping that shortly it would be time to gain entry to interview one of the patients currently receiving treatment at the hospital.

 

The Receptionist fails to make any VISUAL contact with Femi. She is comfortably seated behind a busy desk, chewing gum, and ROUTINELY stroking the keys of the keyboard, while PERPETUALLY staring into the bright Computer monitor in front of her.

 

FEMI

(to himself; re: Receptionist)

 

Who give this kin’ woman job for hospital? How person go dey chew gum for work? I sure say she no even go school finish. Person know person na wetin full this country.

 

 

INT. INCIDENT ROOM, NIGERIA POLICE STATION - SAME TIME

 

Tega is IMPATIENTLY listening to the dialing tune of his phone.