October 20 2020.
We remember the young Nigerians who said enough is enough to police brutality. The guns may have fallen silent, but the demand for justice still echos.
Rip to our hero's you guy's will never be forgotten.
The HR manager locked the door halfway through my exit interview and said, “Before you leave this company, I need you to explain why you've been avoiding me for six months.”
I stared at him.
“Excuse me?”
Daniel Hayes was the last person I expected to ask that question. Thirty-six, intimidatingly handsome, and famous throughout the company for enforcing policies without exceptions.
He rarely smiled. Never attended office parties. And somehow knew everyone's business without revealing anything about himself.
I'd worked at the company for three years, and until that afternoon, our longest conversation had lasted forty seconds.
“I thought this was an exit interview,” I said.
“It is.”
“Then shouldn't you be asking why I'm resigning?”
“I already know why.”
He opened a folder.
Inside were copies of my resignation letter, performance reviews, and a photograph of me standing outside a restaurant with another man.
My stomach tightened.
“Why do you have that?”
Daniel studied me carefully.
“Because the man in that photograph is the reason your promotion disappeared.”
I leaned forward. “What?”
“He's the regional director's nephew. He submitted a complaint claiming you were leaking confidential information.”
“He was my boyfriend.”
“I know.”
“He cheated on me.”
“I know that too.”
I stared at him. “How much do you know about my personal life?”