The Disappeared Office
Some mornings start like any other. You arrive, greet your colleagues, take a deep breath, and prepare your mind and heart for the people you are about to serve. That morning, I was ready for a full day of counselling — ready to listen, to comfort, to guide, and to protect the emotional well-being of my clients. But the moment I reached my office, everything shifted. My key turned, the door opened… and I froze. My counselling room — the safe space where tears had fallen, where secrets were shared, where healing had begun — was gone. The desk had been moved. The chairs were missing. My files had been displaced. And in their place stood boxes, equipment, and supplies, stacked from wall to wall. My office had been transformed into a material store, without a conversation, without a meeting, and without a word of respect. It wasn’t the furniture that hurt. It wasn’t even the sudden change. What cut deeply was the insolence hidden in the silence — a decision taken behind my back by an...