Ramat looked up from her screen as the door swung open.

‘Hello baby,’ Larry stood in the doorway, wearing a stupid grin on his stupid face.

Just my day, she muttered to herself.

‘Larry, I don’t have your time today,’ she frowned.

‘Baby, have I told you you look more beautiful when you’re angry?’

‘For God’s sake, Larry, I’ve had enough of those cheesy lines you get from Google,’ she threw her hands up in despair. ‘What part of no don’t you men understand?’

He moved some papers aside and perched lightly on her desk.

‘You’re wasting your time holed up in this cubicle, Ramat,’ the grin was wider. ‘You need a man.’

‘Just go away,’ she couldn’t concentrate anymore. IT was just like Larry to ruin her day.

He leaned suddenly towards her, looking very serious.

‘What’s this I’m hearing about you having an encounter with some vigilante group?’ he asked.

‘That was last month’s assignment – covering some news about an oil spill in one Ijaw village like that,’ she explained. ‘I got threatened but it was really nothing.’

‘Be careful,’ he warned. ‘Did you take any pictures?’

‘None of your business,’ she said, refusing to look him in the eye.

‘Look here Ramat,’ he placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘You don’t know what you’re dealing with. If you took any pictures, you’d better get rid of them.’

‘How do you know all this?’ she asked.

‘I have my ways,’ the silly grin was back for a moment, then he became serious again. ‘These people will stop at nothing to get to you. I’m not joking.’

‘But they’re harmless pictures,’ she protested.

‘Like I said, you probably won’t understand,’ he got to his feet. ‘Why do you think Mr Nowamagbe rejected your article?’

‘How do you know?’

He shrugged again and walked out.

Ramat slipped her hand into her purse and fingered the just-developed roll of film. Was it really that much trouble?