“Father, will you be attending my debate session tomorrow,” asked Anisa eagerly.

“I’ll try my best darling, but I can’t make any promises.”her father answered with much hesitation in his voice.

“I’m a very busy man, you know,” he affirmed. Anisa swallowed the knot that suffocated her throat and silenced her voice.

“I would really appreciate it if you could come, father. It would mean the world to me,” she protested.

“I will be there,” he assured her. Anisa let out a massive sigh of relief and contentment.

“I can’t wait, Father…My debate is about,” Swiftly, A sly lanky lady, resembling a Cobra carrying a clipboard came barging into father’s office, She was called secretary Cobra.

“Sir, You have an urgent call on line 1. It’s about the peace delegation,” She insisted.

“Oh, yes. Of course. Put the call through immediately,” he said eagerly as he adjusted himself in his leather seat.

“Right on it,” replied secretary Cobra as she gave the command through her Bluetooth earpiece.

“My debate is about why the world needs a President,” Anisa, silently whispered to herself as she closed the door to father’s office. Sad and disappointed, she returned to her bedroom, it was her sanctuary. She climbed onto her queen size bed, and admired a photo placed at the side of her bed. It was a picture of her hugging an older lady with a beautiful pink scarf.

“I miss you Sisi, I miss you so much,” she noted, while burying her face in her pillow as she drowned amidst her sadness. The loneliness and sadness lulled her to sleep.

A knock on her door woke her from her light sleep.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” said a burly and gigantic male as he poked his head out from behind the perfectly painted blush bedroom door.

“Yes, Agent Tiger,” answered Anisa.

“Dinner is served. The chef made your favorite,” he said with a sympathetic look on his face.

“Pumpkin Pie again?” asked Anisa unenthusiastically.

“Uhm, yeah. That one. Will you be attending dinner ma’am?” He asked in a deep voice.

“It’s not like I’ve got anywhere else to be,” replied Anisa sarcastically as she fixed her favourite sparkly dress for dinner.

Anisa entered the dining room. The table centered in the middle of the room filled with dishes as far as the eye could see; Salads, burgers, chicken, pies, samosas, deserts and every fork and spoon placed to perfection. A feast for the eyes and satisfaction on the tongue.

“Ma’am, I made your favourite,” bragged the foreign chef, as he held the plate of pumpkin pie next to Anisa’s seat.

“Merci beaucoup, Monsieur,” she replied in a sullen tone. Secretary Cobra barged into the dinning hall and made an announcement.

“Unfortunately, your father won’t be able to make dinner,” she commented with a silent smirk on her face.

“He has already left for America, for a quick briefing. Sadly, he will only return next week.”