Question 41· Literary appreciation: unseen prose· WAEC
Mama Nkechi opened her shop before the first cock had finished crowing. She swept the doorway with short, angry strokes, as though the dust had insulted her personally. Across the road, the new supermarket glowed behind its glass, its shelves as orderly as soldiers on parade. Customers who had bought her groundnut oil for twenty years now walked past with their eyes fixed on their phones. Still, every morning she arranged her tins in a careful pyramid and waited, because waiting, she said, was also a kind of work. (An original passage written for AdmitMe practice.)