I got a subtle compliment from an unlikely source last month. It was from a lady in the front office of a bank’s branch I have used for years. Most of the staff there are usually friendly and polite in a distant way, and that suits me fine. No non-official conversation of any kind apart from polite enquiries about home and family. I didn’t expect anything different this time especially since I had gone to lodge a protest and demand a refund. I had used my ATM card at a neighbourhood pharmacy store. Funds which were denied on the counter were later found to have been debited to my account. It was what Fela would have called ‘double wahala for dead body’ because I still had to find cash to pay for my purchase.