THE INTERVIEW
Femi looked at his watch again, for the fifteenth time within the last five minutes. He had set out this morning having calculated the time it’d take him to get to the mainland despite the traffic he’d known he’d meet. Turns out he hadn’t factored in the unpredictability of Lagos traffic. One day, you’d think you had it figured out and make plans around it and the next week, you were spiraling out of control. Because what in God’s name was this kind of traffic on a Wednesday morning?
And today just happened to be the day. He’d been invited for an interview. After 4 months of consistently churning out CVs and filling an average of 15 applications per week. He’d finally gotten a call. And Lagos traffic was about to ruin it for him.
He didn’t even want to think about why he was already sweating profusely despite the atmosphere being relatively cool this morning. The standstill traffic, the heat of all the passengers combined and the turmoil in his head was probably why.
Then there was this very weird smell on the bus. It probably came from the guy sitting directly in front of him. He had this large septic wound on his leg that was very poorly bandaged. The people sitting on either side of him looked visibly uncomfortable. Rightly so. He smelled horrible.
“Wetin person no go see for Lagos bus?” Femi thought. He’d have taken an Uber, but that one luxury he currently couldn’t afford unless he planned to starve for the next two days. The fares were exorbitant and after four months of living off his savings, he was stretched very thin. So he had decided to take an extra seat on the bus to avoid having people close enough to stain his white shirt that he had meticulously washed and ironed the day before.
Femi Femo! The baddest boy on campus that year. Smart, good looking and very charismatic. Everybody had incredibly high hopes for him. His friends used to say that if his brains didn’t make way for him, his looks definitely would because all those corporate women would be dying to get into his pants. All those nonsense talks about pretty privilege. If only they knew the shege he was currently experiencing. Nigeria was no respecter of persons. The system dealt with the average man accordingly. No jobs or incredibly low-paying ones, horrible roads, bad governance and sparse room for growth. Those who had the courage to try entrepreneurship were frustrated daily.
Here he was, five years post-graduation and with absolutely nothing to show for it. His last job had been paying 70k a month and that was barely enough to get by. But even that job was gone. And he had been miserable in the months that followed. Until today.
“Conductor mo fe bole” Femi found himself saying.
“Ahan, fine boy, o fe rin nii?” The conductor asked.
“Ma rin oo, mo ni interview ni 9 o clock, ma gbe bike, mo fe sare de be.”
“Ahh okay, mi o le fun e change oo.”
“No problem.” Femi rolled his eyes.
On any other day, God knew that he would have argued with the conductor. But not today.
Femi eventually found a bike and got to the entrance of the address he was giving with just two minutes to spare.
He had gotten some mud on his trousers that he quickly wiped away with his handkerchief and pure water that he bought by the junction.
He hoped he at least looked presentable.
On entering into the reception, if you could even call it that, Femi informed the unpleasant looking lady sitting at the desk of who he was.
“You are late.” was all she said before directing him to have his seat.
Femi had done his research well enough so he went over the answers he had rehearsed in his head.
About fifteen minutes later, the receptionist directed him into a small office at the end of the corridor.
“Hello, good morning.” Femi said to the person whose back was turned to him.
“Hi, please have your seat.” The female voice replied.
There was something very familiar and unsettling about that voice.
When the lady turned to him, it was Lola.
Lola from OAU.
Seeing her face brought so many memories flooding back.
She was a plain quiet girl with glasses. A bit of a nerd actually.
He had finessed her back then in school and then broken off the relationship after a few months when he had discovered that he apparently had a lot of appeal that the ladies couldn’t resist.
She’d been so hurt. And from the resentful look she was currently giving him, she had definitely not gotten over it.
If anybody had told him his playboy ways might backfire in this manner, he’d have sworn it was impossible. The universe really just did him dirty.
There was no point trying to go on with this interview, there was nothing to say. Even if she granted him audience, he didn’t think either of them was ready for the coldness and possible awkwardness that’d arise if they worked together.
Besides, if she was vengeful, and in HR, she’d make his life a living hell.
Femi stood up and walked out of the office.
“As he walked to the junction, he cringed at the thought of the conversation that she’d have with her friends that night.
“You’ll not believe who came to my office for an interview today….”
“Madam, please give me one Pepsi and one gala.”
Femi sighed.
He’d resume sending out applications tomorrow.
- Kufre Effiong-Robert
0 Comments