All six lifts aren’t working, we’re sent to climb the stairs,
singing at first, at the third floor I lose my breath, climbed
at a more sedate pace, arrived on the sixth floor though
I could’ve handled many more
My puffing colleagues arrive, Hanlie laughing in hope our
Minister and 10th floor officials suffer the same fate; I
tackle an Arabic message from the Minister of the
Ministry, the Waziir from the Wizarrah, as Riima taught
Then there is no water and electricity threatens to go,
Hanlie discovers a 10th floor pipe burst flooding the lifts –
fixing is difficult, I skip down sixth floors, commiserate
happily with fellow travellers – still yodelling where
No victims can get away; all too soon we’re sent home for
safety reasons, the show’s over. At home I am silent so as
to not give offence – washed dishes in sheer exuberance,
ate a large bowl of oats for a sound sleep tonight –
What fun life is!
24 June 2013
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