Bachelorette Diaries Wk24, 2012

On Monday I went to the family business offices near the Department of Defence offices. I am the MD.

Gevin Technologies came to Kenya at the same time with Yedioth Ahronoth. It was my mother’s – the 2012 Forbes magazine woman of the year – bright idea, to open a branch in east Africa, and specifically in Kenya.


GT is a giant software company in Israel, just like IBM and Apple and Microsoft. It is a fast rising software developer in Israel, the Gaza strip, most of Asia and Europe and now Africa. Long-term strategic goals are to be the world’s leading Software Company.

“Oh, thank God you are finally here,” said Georgina Simons, the General Manager, as I settled in the MD’s seat I rarely use.

“Yeah, I’m finally here, never better.”

“I’m sorry, but you’d be fine,” Georgina said. I almost felt good already. Relief was plastered all over Georgina’s black beauty face. Who the hell told her, I wondered, but I did not ask. In this age of death of privacy it’s hard to keep everything from third parties.

“What’s wrong?” well, I did not have to ask her that because I could see the stack of in-comings that screamed for my attention. It really meant that in the absence of the managing director everything would crumble down.

I settled down and started going through the messages. A lot were from clients and business partners.

“You should have dealt with these, Georgina.”

“Yes, but it’s the company policy that…”

“Jeez,” I cut her short. “For God’s sake, I was in hospital. I could have even died, you know.”

She said nothing, but the way she rolled her eyes I knew she was to snort ‘but you didn’t.’

Even though she’s a good manager, Georgina is indecisive and responsibility-phobic when it comes to seemingly major decisions (according to her).

I dismissed her, went through contracts, project proposals, invitation to bids, made both local and international calls and signed several documents.

At ten o’clock, 9:00 a.m. in Jerusalem, I made a call to our head office in Tel Aviv where my twin sister was the head of operations.

“Shiri, am so glad you called. I’ve missed you so. How are you doing?”

I told Daliah all about me – of course the edited version – how I had been for the past month, then why I had called (Georgina and the marketing manager felt that it would be a great idea to trade our shares on the Nairobi Stock Exchange).

“That would mean making it a public limited company over…”

“Not really. Look, I want your view on this, and I suggest that you talk with your team over there before getting to mom and dad.”

“Anything for you, sis,” Daliah said, chuckling. “I’ll get back to you.”

At exactly 10:45 sharp, my Personal Assistant, the one I brought from Israel, showed up at the office.

Zohara Yasmine is model-beautiful, an exquisite freak of nature, totally honest, with an inherent American accent.

“Morning, ma’am,” she said as she cleared the pile of papers I’d stack haphazardly in the ‘OUT’ tray. “You okay now?”

“Good morning. I think I am.”

“Are you not sure?”

“I guess I am.”

“Don’t worry. I believe in you. You’d be fine.”

“Thanks, Zo. You are such a cutie.”

When she left, I booted up my laptop, checked my inbox. There was quite a load – an invitation to a Poets and Writers Online (POWO254) event by a Facebook friend, Kenyapoet, business proposals from IBM, Apple, Samsung, Google and Wikipedia, a job offer for me from Microsoft and New York Times and UK Mail magazine. I selected all except POWO254 and pushed them into the junk folder.

I logged into my Facebook account and chatted some with a former classmate who was a BBC Focus in Africa correspondent then called it a day. I had a lunch date with the girls at half past noon and my weekly dose of plasmapheresis at two o’clock.

My sick leave is halfway over, and I am getting back on track. The week has been like a dream without the rollercoaster dread of the Upshaws-Schulman Syndrome.

Apart from going to GT for no more than a few hours I have a lot of free time. An idea has cropped up in my mind, and I think I would, and should, work on it.

Well, I am a journalist by profession, I write non-fiction, and get paid for that. However, I feel a zest to write a novel, give fiction and creative writing a shot.

To start with, I have scribbled something on my notebook that could qualify as poetry. What do you know? I am the managing editor Yedioth Ahronoth. I’d just get them published.

Copyright ©Elove, 2012.


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