I walked in with high expectation that was instantly dashed as soon as I stepped in the place. I withdrew from interviewing food entrepreneur simply because there was nothing there to talk about at the place not after
I met a rather dull acned face receptionist who seemed she would rather be elsewhere than the front reception desk! That’s just one of several setbacks with the place.
That place didn’t quite march the glossy
profile they put out there to entice customers. Close by from where I stood, a quick glimpse at the kitchen registered the chef cooking without covering his head and having painstaking attempts to explain myself almost made me lose the will to live. And I
was thirsty hungry to settle down to relax. The poor receptionist tired worn out weary face managed to mutter almost inaudible phrases ‘let …me check for you ma’. I was confused by what she was about to check followed by ‘say
your name again …ma’ after a slow recovery from her trance. Poor girl must have been overworked or is working too many jobs.
By the time, the owner strolled in completely dishevelled
tired from cooking announced in Yoruba ‘ta ni n wa mi’ who is looking for me? even though she was expecting me and I stood there fully erect as a door post. The receptionist bellowed ‘o wa nibi’ again in Yoruba
meaning she is here. By now, I had already made up my time for a quick exit excuse that I was running late for another appointment and will ring back to reschedule another meeting. I didn’t taste their JOLLOF that I so looked forward to. I wanted out
and so I did.