Geno was fed up of being beautiful, as vain as it sounded, no one seemed see her talent and genius behind her voluptuous coke bottle body, face chiseled by Zeus and seductive lips finished by Aphrodite. Her neck, long and regal, bosom sufficient to cure hunger in the developing world, a slight and even waist and hips ready to bear generations, her calves raised by her 4 inch heels ready to conquer hearts. Geno looked like she belonged on the cover of Glamour and on catwalks in Yves Saint Laurent. Her good looks opened more doors than she had imagined.
Geno was made to believe that her stunning brilliant brain and knowledge in nuclear physics would propel her in to the world of energy generation. Not quite, she was more like the secret ingredient that every chemist had been seeking to create the new formula of heartbreaking beauty. Geno was now working as a bank teller thoroughly underemployed because in Kenya, there was no room for beauty and physics it was one or the other. She was too overqualified and no one was interested in funding her research on nuclear energy to power Kenya. It wasn’t “commercially viable in Africa” she was constantly told in her grant applications.
Geno was thoroughly frustrated. On a fine October evening Geno plunked herself on the couch in front of her ‘idiot box’ stuffing her face with Ugali, managu and matumbo. She needed to reward herself with some of Mama’s best made meals after the day she had. For the second time in a row, someone had stolen cash from her counter costing her more deductions from her pathetic salary. She needed to quit and work elsewhere, she knew who it was, she had befriended one of the guards at the security desk and had seen who had been sabotaging her.
Geno wasn’t surprised, it was Mr. Rapiro, he had wanted to get in her pants from the day he interviewed Geno. And he wasn’t subtle about it. She had shot him down so many times. The most recent incident was two weeks ago when she bumped into him and his family at a mall. He shamelessly flirted with her in front of his wife and kids.
“Si, you come join us, we can have a good time…” Rapiro said licking his lips and winking at her suggestively. Geno ignored him complemented his wife’s outfit and cordially left the two in an ugly spat in the middle of the mall attracting people’s attention.
Now Geno was in front of the TV screen watching an old episode of Batman and Robin. “I wish I had a superpower.” She thought out loud. “I wish I was ugly, I would have the power to make myself invisible to others and approachable to those who genuinely are kind and caring and are truly interested in seeing me for what I can do not my looks.” Geno said out loud. She finished her dinner dumped the dishes in the kitchen sink and went to bed.
The following morning, as usual waking up in the shower, Geno felt her face, there was something odd, she felt swollen. She went straight to the mirror her face was normal when she looked at herself, but she could feel bumps and zits on it. But weirdly enough she had crooked feet, she was waddling, and her back was unusually hunched over.
Geno stood in the mirror and quickly turned her back and through the double mirrors noted something awkward that startled her. In the reflection she was an old woman, knock kneed with zits and bad eczema all over her face. Her teeth were uneven, her incisors were so long she couldn’t close her mouth, she looked like a rat. Her arms were bony, they looked like used math sticks ready to disintegrate into ash.
Geno got what she wished for. She got dressed looking normal when she looked at herself, but when she looked in the mirror she was a wiry sage, ready to cast a spell and bellow out incantations to call upon other ancestors she seemed to have resurrected from.
This was going to be an interesting day at work.