Welcome Change With A Big Warm Hug!

I sat in that Danfo Bus. The one I boarded from Ikate bus-stop to Ajah, after the close of work. Amid the constant jerking and siren-blasting, my mind traveled. It always did when I’m alone. This time, it was long gone, to the past, present and what the future could possibly unfold. My visit to the future was short. i usually don’t stay long there. I knew I had very little choice in the matter. I can do all the planning and paint a fantastic picture, but then, God pronounces the final verdict.

Going back to the past, i did that alot. I amuse myself with it. It also makes me re-strategize. On one of those time travels, I stumbled on a time two years ago. It was mid 2012. I had just finished serving (NYSC) and was retained at a big media establishment in Kogi state capital, Lokoja. It was the place of my primary assignment, *one of the big fish in state at that time*.

With the new job, there was this satisfaction that i didn’t have to hustle for a job placement like the thousands of my mate. It gave me so much fulfilment ( I am not celebrating other people’s misfortune o, don’t misunderstand me please). I give my best in what I do, but like they say, Life’s race is not for the swift nor the strongest but divine grace…

Ok, I’m doing just fine with my new job. No worries! Except a few, which is peculiar with ladies of my age (worry over material things). Life seem fun and smooth, but I knew that wasn’t all it can be. I always plunge further, maintaining an open mind.  A new adventure, new career, new love and a new family in a totally new environment (Well, not so new, considering that i had lived there for a year).

After two months, I thought I was settled in, to begin a life of my own. Totally independent, but I was wrong. I received a mail from a post graduate school in lagos. It was an invitation to study. I had applied to the school, like a month ago, when I saw an advertisement online, asking for female Delta State Indigenes to apply. I decided to give it a shot.

Talking about how I got lucky? Well, I can’t say for sure. It certainly wasn’t all my doing. I like to surf the internet, checking out the latest (news), new opportunities, career, friendship, places and the likes. That was how I stumbled on it. The Scholarship. Later on, I realised it wasn’t a trial, It was meant to be.

I accepted the offer, but it wasn’t certain. I wasn’t sure I wanted to leave. I loved my comfort. The fact that I was doing ok. The peace, serenity, easy-quiet-small-community life. Lokoja had all that. Lagos was the direct opposite, or so I thought. I can’t survive there, not for long. The noise, traffic, hyper-activeness, on-the-go-kinda-life. ARRRGH! Lagos is a different world. And so, I continued to debate, weighing all the options.

As delighted as I was about the scholarship offer, I was also sad. Flush of worries swept me. I was constantly in that phase for weeks, because change came knocking. I had to move, that i didn’t find comfortable. I did it anyways. I hesitated, I grumbled,  gave excuses but I should have saved myself from all that pain. I should have said Welcome! Change. Should have smiled at it and given it a big warm hug!

The Edge… (Concluding part)

I waited for hours. People who came after me, went in and left. I was still waiting to be called. I blame the receptionists for that. It was their fault. We (the interviewees) were supposed to write down our details in the visitors’ log book as we came, because we will only be attended to, according to the list (a fact that I discovered when it was already too late), but somehow they forgot to tell us that that was how it worked.

After two hours, I was getting restless. I only informed my team-head and my two seat-mates. It shouldn’t take more than two hours, I said to them. I had hoped things would go as planned, forgetting that it wasn’t really my call to make.

By 1pm, there were still five interviewees to attend to, before me. That time, the HR lady came to tell us that the panel was going for a one-hour lunch break, interview session resumes after 2pm. I was becoming furious now. I quickly called her attention, ‘Hello’ and she replied, Yes Please? ”Eeem, I have been here since before 10, I had hoped that the interview won’t take more than an hour but obviously, it’s taking time. Please can I re-schedule? I have to go back to work now”, I said. She smiled (as if that would change anything) and replied, ”we are really sorry to have kept you this long, but please, just wait a little while more, You should be done by 3”. Maybe she didn’t hear me, so I reiterated, ”I really have to go back to work, can I re-schedule?” She gave me that official sympathetic look and said, ‘I’m sorry. I’ll advice you wait, unless you don’t mind… the truth is, there are thousands of applicants, we call them in batches. Now is your turn, you may not be called for another interview after now’. (She concluded with that look that insinuated you better wait!) So I said ok, I’ll wait, reluctantly.

By 2:42, they finally resumed. I’m so sure of this because my eyes did not leave my wristwatch (figuratively o, lol). I kept tabs on time, even when my mind constantly tried to distract it with thoughts of worry. The conversation continued all the while I waited. The thing is, I did not tell my team-head the exact story. The one you now know. How could I have told him I was going for an interview? That I was thinking of leaving when I had barely worked a month. And for a better place. Who says that? Really. I didn’t think it was a right thing to say, even so, I was just going to break the news when I get the job offer. So the excuse was simply; ‘Hi, please I have to be somewhere by 10. Should be back in an hour. And he said, ok. This conversation was on Skype o, he didn’t even ask for details. See how lucky I was? Yea, I thought so too.

As I joggled between these two worlds (that is my worrisome mind and my tired, restless body), Melvin walked in. Of course you know him. The latest Big Brother Africa Celeb. He didn’t win sha, but he’s famous for it (having participated in about three contests and coming so close to winning). I guess it’s not always about winning, is it? He’s a star now. The media is all over him and his savvy counterpart, what’s her name again? Remind me. Oh yes, I remember now, Beverly Osu. So Melvin is at the reception, waiting also to be called in (just like me, that’s a consolation, sheh). Well, not for my kind of business o. hahahahahahhaha. At least, not a job interview. They (the presenters) wanted him on radio. Always poking, you know, they want an update. ”What’s the latest with you since after BBA? Tell us what you’re up to? Who’s the lucky girl? We gathered from a reliable source that you bagged an endorsement deal from one of the telecom giants, tell us about it? Bla bla bla…That kind of thing. Anyways, I soon exited that Melvin-media-paparazzi-thought and sank in my own worry.

The moment finally came. We should set the drums rolling, right? Yea we should. By the time they called my name, I knew I was done. There was nothing more to give. I was tensed. I didn’t know where the tension came from, maybe it’s from waiting too long. But I’ve come too far, to let this happen. I can’t just give up. So I said a prayer to my guardian angel and tried heavy-breathing. I think the therapy worked for a split second, my heart almost exploded the next second . I braced myself and walk in to the interview room. The Panel were familiar faces. All three of them, I knew to some extent. They acknowledged my presence based on that same familiar level too. I was at rest and assured, I had the edge right? Yea, I felt so.

The panel said I had to present news, as real as it can be, for television. They gave me a moment to sieve through the script. In ten seconds, I started to read from the script I was given, but my shaky voice and hands easily betrayed me. I begged to start again. Viola! Wish granted. But after the first two lines, I was back again, at the same spot (tensed spot). I got plenty of re-takes, chances to correct the mistakes I made, my news presentations I mean. (I must have tried more than five times). Maybe it’s the edge working. I don’t think the other applicants got these chances, but i did. I had the edge.

I left the room depleted. Except by divine intervention, I resolved that it was a lost case. I won’t say exactly that I flopped. I mean…, I had the edge. I used it. Let me give you the recap, I applied very late. Out of the thousands, I still was lucky to be invited, plus I saw my old colleagues again, etcetera etcetera. I’m not rejoicing o or justifying  my… what do i call it now? no. I am just happy and hopeful. My mind is open, I know the best is so close, within my reach. I’ll let you if I get called. xoxo

The Edge… (Cont’d)

The conversation continued (with myself). I thought of how long I had waited for this. The call. Excitement, mixed with fear and lack of direction, defined how I felt. What do I read? How do I prepare? What do I even wear? All sorts of flimsy thoughts pervaded my mind. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m in a dilemma. The remaining two hours at work, I shuttled between my mind and the office. Anyways, I somehow managed to sleep through the night, with great hope that it’ll be the easiest thing ever. It wasn’t going to be an exam. That, I dreaded because i haven’t read any academic book in a while. I know the place, the people, and a little about how the system works. So I rehearsed a few times and just tossed the scripts aside, on the bed. It should not be hard as my heart raced. I have an edge.
That morning, it rained. I was not sure whether to like the fact that it rained, the first time that year. It was January. I was beginning to get uneasy. The interview was scheduled for 10 am in Victoria Island. I was still stuck in Lekki, see temptation o! My eyes were out for anything transportable*; a taxi or bus or car or anything. A lift sef, I don’t mind.
I took a walk in the rain. I could not wait any further. It was already 9:08. A car wound down his window, gradually stopping beside me as I walked, after only about two minutes. Chei! God has answered my prayers, or so I thought. ‘Where are you going?’ the man behind the Honda Accord wheel asked me. I didn’t even pretend ‘not interested’, like I would do (on a good day). My pretty English Ankara dress and boyfriend jacket was already getting wet, my shoe sef don soak… I just replied, ‘V.I’ and was about to open the door when I heard the guy say ‘two five’ (N2500). Ehen! I screamed. I was surprised. What was I thinking? Free lift? It was Lekki o. My grip on the door was immediately loose. It was like reflex. ‘So how much you wan pay?’ the guy asked. I was short of words, but I had to tell him my mind, ‘Na five hundred I get o’. He just said No! And zoomed off. Eeeh ehn! See me o! So you don catch mugu abi? I can’t even fall for that, no matter how late I get, so I continued walking. At the junction, I finally met my God-sent taxi-man, (Wink*) an elderly Yoruba man (I guessed by the Ankara buba, sokoto, fila and tribal marks that he wore). He was just there, waiting (I think for me). I approached him and greeted. Told him I was going to V.I. He didn’t know the place exactly, so I offered to show him the way and he willingly took my N500. That was it. I made it to the office’s reception at 9:37 prompt.
After all the protocols; questioning, registration and all, there were 5 people seated, waiting to be called in for the interview. Thank God I’m early, i thought. At least i have an edge. I sized them up (my fellow applicants i mean), seeing none posed as a major competitor except one. A tall, light-skinned, pretty lady. She could have passed for a model. She seem like the only competitor, or so I thought. Even if she is, I still have an edge. I tried to reconnect with the two ladies at the reception, it didn’t work, not much (they behaved like they don’t remember me. I took no serious offense sha, they see thousands of faces on a regular basis, so I don’t blame them, not much). I pinged my old colleague, Flora. We used to work in the newsroom together. She came down to meet me at the reception, we hugged and said the pleasantries after what seemed like a long time. She wished me luck and left. I simply smiled at her gesture after she left and thought to myself, I have an edge…

The Edge…

I had an opportunity (I’ve had plenty sha, wink*).
I finally had a chance to work in one of Nigeria’s most renowned broadcast station, private though. It was a dream job, maybe not exactly. It was even the more, bigger than my dream job. I wanted to work with the coolest radio station in town (I have wanted to do that since forever. Listening to all the porsche* radio stations always make me fantasize how it’ll be, actually being behind the Mic), but here was an offer to work at its prestigious TV arm.
It was one of those very few times I got lucky. I think say I win jackpot o, hehehehehehe!!!
Around 4pm the previous day, I received a call from one of those strange ‘coded’ numbers. I usually am skeptical when such numbers appear on my phone. While I contemplated whether to answer or not, I caught the smirking look of my seatmate that insinuated, ‘Pick up the damn phone or throw it away, the ring tone is distracting’. I just rolled my eyes and shook my head.
Yes, I was at work. My phone ring a lot. (I most times, leave it on silent mode and forget to even look at it till close of work, when I’m packing up to go home). Don’t give me that look too, I know what you’re about to say. No, I don’t work at the ‘customer’s service’ or any post close to that. Friends just call me a lot when I’m at work, I don’t know why o.
Ok, back to my story…
So I received the call. It was from a female who introduced herself as the HR officer for the so-called one-of-the-best broadcast media in the country. I had been invited for an interview. Whoopsie! Did my breath stop? In truth, I did not know. It felt like I switched off for a few seconds. I did not know what I said at that instant. When I rebooted, I simply nodded and said Ok, I’ll be there tomorrow before 10. The interview had been scheduled for 10am the next day.
The lady’s voice at the other end, gentle and soft, reminded me of how mine sounded, how it will sound when I face the panel the next morning. Fear gripped me. I paused. I thought, should I re-schedule? Just tell her something to buy you a little more time. The time is too short. You’re not prepared…I thought about the position I applied for, I have not even done that sort of thing, ‘newscasting’, in a long time (last time was four months ago)… But babe, the show must go on. You better grab this opportunity now. You may not be so lucky next time o. After all the inner conversation thingy*, I bounced back to reality. She asked me if I knew my way to the place (the media house). Of course, Yes! I quickly responded. With the confidence of someone who has an edge. I’m certainly not a stranger in that regard. “Ok then, we’ll see you tomorrow. Have a nice day”. And the call ended…