Trapped

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The sky was more like porridge than usual and the heat squashed down.  My head ached with it.  There was always mischief on days like this.  Sure enough, as the time came to head home, Tony, the HR manager, came to see Angie and me to tip us off that our exit visas had been cancelled, with no explanation.  Eight other senior expats including the Chief Executive, who was due to fly back home for good next week, were also rumoured to have had their exit visas revoked.  Without these, there was no way of leaving the country.  We were trapped.

The Prof, our CEO, came around to see us.  Usually so calm, but he was grey, cracked.   State Audit were crawling all over the building.   What were they looking for?  Why were we under suspicion? None of it made any sense. The Prof was in no doubt, regardless of innocence or guilt, there would be cruel delight in scaring us, making our lives miserable.

We could only wait and see.

Angie and I did what we can do best… we bought sparkly shoes and went and had our nails painted lurid colours as we decided if we are to be deported, then we are going in style!  

N.B.  This is an excerpt from my diaries, from when I was in the Middle East and not current.

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