A Woman's Worth

Deji had had enough, the whole thing was becoming a little too much and he couldn’t take it any more.

Things had really deteriorated at the office; more specifically things between him and his boss. Lately, nothing he did impressed the man. He found mistakes in everything Deji did and took forever in approving his jobs. Even Deji’s subtle tactic of passing his jobs to the other ogas in the department was wearing thin as they now refused to okay his work stressing that although they felt he had done a good job, Collins was meant to approve them. They tried to encourage him telling him how he must ‘manage’ his boss.

Manage whom? To Deji that was asking for more than he could do at the point in time. Firstly, the department was short-staffed, and he was carrying out more than one function, in short he was doing the work of three people; so where was he going to find the time to kiss his boss’ ass? Secondly, he got along well with the other team heads and ogas in the department without any ass-kissing so why was this particular ass so special?

Deji was in the creative team of his department which called for churning out of good marketing communication ideas for the organization. Creativity required a high degree of equanimity of the mind and soul and he was not getting any of it in his department. Since Chisom went on maternity leave he also had the added responsibility of dealing with the media guys and the Director’s correspondence; requests which came in at odd times of the day and week with all sorts of near impossible deadlines. Well, this was what he signed up for and he could handle it; as they say ‘work no dey end.’ But the ass-kissing? Sorry, no can do.

Deji was one of those people who believed that one’s work should speak for one’s capabilities and not any other thing. Choosing his friends carefully, he was civil and cordial to others in the company making him the nice guy.

Now one of Deji's colleagues, Stella would often come into his office to see him under the pretext of making enquiries. Stella was relatively new in the company having just spent three months and they got on pretty well. They sometimes had lunch together in the cafeteria and talked. She liked Deji as he made her laugh. Deji found her very attractive and often told her so. She would then laugh and remind Deji that she had a fiancé in the UK who was coming back soon to take her to the altar. Deji in response told her that he had a girlfriend and was quite content with just looking at her. Stella and Deji’s friendship would sometimes attract friendly jibes from his colleagues which he took good naturedly without being overly defensive.

One day he found himself in a situation where his boss gave him a query for some unfinished tasks which had exceeded their deadlines. The HoD was copied in the query. Deji explained to the HoD that he had actually finished some of them but was yet to pass them on to Collins for approval. The others had not been completed because Collins had earlier told him to put them on the backburner as they were of lower priority.

The HoD did not buy into Deji’s explanation. How could he? When Deji could not explain why his boss constantly refused to approve his work, or why he sometimes took weeks to look at a draft or dummy or why he was also in the habit of misplacing Deji’s painstaking marketing plans. Deji responded to the memo with the promise to improve on meeting his deadlines.

A few weeks later another issue came up and Collins ranted and raved threatening Deji with a poor performance evaluation and non-promotion for the year. Deji could not bear the thought of not being promoted. He had never failed at anything in his life and he was not going to start now. He quietly dropped his letter with the Human Capital Department and without telling too many people, he resigned his appointment. He had had enough. He did not need anyone to kill his spirit or destroy what little confidence he had in himself. There were easier ways to make money in this town.

Two months later, Deji found another job with a media firm. He took a pay cut but got his confidence and game back making considerable contributions to his new employer. He still kept in touch with some of his former colleagues especially Stella who had found it a bit hard to understand why he left so suddenly and why he had not confided in her. He reminded her that he was not her boyfriend and therefore not answerable to her. She laughed at this and told him that she missed him.

He took her out to lunch one day, where they sat and were able to catch up on things. She still wanted to know why he resigned his appointment, as he had not told her. This was one question he was tired of answering. Depending on whom was doing the asking, he would explain the issues he was having with his boss and the fact that his work and ability were being called into question by the unfriendly and mean attitude of his boss. To others he gave the generic answer of wanting a new challenge and wanting to work on the media side of things. Well, he had come to see that his reasons for leaving were actually a combination of both.

After the meal, he was about to tell her the whole story when her phone rang. After a brief conversation with the person on the line where she explained that she’s having lunch with a friend, she disconnected. Deji enquired to the identity of the caller, teasing her about her fiancé. She smiled and told him that it was his former boss Collins, who had taken her out for a drinks a couple of times. She explained that they had recently become friendly after he gave her a ride home, which had become a regular thing since he lived not too far from her place. Deji had a ‘light bulb moment’ as the picture became very clear to him. The crude teasing, the looks, the veiled comments and antagonism from his boss now made sense. The possibility had never crossed his slow mind. How could he have been so blind? Stella seeing the look that briefly crossed his face, asked him what was wrong. Deji just smiled and he shook his head. She smiled and again asked him why he left the company.

Untitled

The okada came to a stop just by the side of the road. Peter dismounted and paid the okada. The bike noisily clambered along the sand strip before it joined the main road.

Peter dusted the grains of sand that had clung to his trousers during the undulating ride along one of Lagos’ finest pathways.

He took a look at the road. Good. The traffic was gradually building up. He looked at his watch, a Seckiko, his pal Jude had given it to him in lieu of the N1,000 he owed him. Cheap rubbish, the thing had begun to fade. Anyway that was not his problem today. It was 4:30pm and he had arrived early.

He took out his handkerchief and wiped his face. The sun was slowly going down but still doing its job. Well, he had his to do. He swung his satchel to the front of his waist and removed his fez cap from it. Hat on head, he rolled up his sleeves. Someone whistled in his direction. He looked up and saw Chidi, one of the competition.

“Pally, how far?” Chidi said in greeting.

“I just dey come o.”

“How your people?”

“Dem dey, we thank God.”

Peter wasn’t sure he was happy that Chidi got there before him but sometimes it was not about the early bird but about who had the sharpest eyes and his eyes were sharper than Chidi’s.

Peter brought out his stash from his satchel and quickly checked it. Everything was okay. He took a look at the oncoming traffic and when it slowed down a bit he darted in. He unrolled his dummy cards and looked for prospects.

He had spent an hour and was making good sales, roughly N12,500. He wiped his brow again. Looking neat was important in this business. One had to look presentable and responsible especially when it came to those girls. Yes, the ones in their new SUVs and Korean cars, looking like they did not fart. They were heavy buyers as against the men who mostly bought in N500s.

He heard a car horn. He quickly turned. It was the blue Passat that had just passed. Indecisive people, didn’t they see him before? He ran after it. The driver wound down and showed a one thousand naira note. Airtel he guessed. He caught up with the car as it slowed down.

“Please, give me one Zain, one thousand.” He guessed right. He was getting good at this. He could predict within a good degree of accuracy the network provider a particular person wanted to buy.

Ssssiii! He looked up. A woman in a danfo was beckoning to him. Mmm…. Glo, five hundred. He crossed to the other lane just missing an okada man. “You no dey see?!” the okada man spat at he whizzed by. “You sef, you blind?!” he shot back.

“Abeg, give me Glo, five hundred.” Another satisfied customer.

Where was Chidi? He searched. He spied Chidi further down the road trying to pick up the ones he had missed. It was getting dark and he was thirsty too. He saw Sunny the guy selling drinks. “Sunny, you get water for there?” “No o, e don finish, na only soft drinks remain.” No, that was above his budget. He would look out for the other guys who sold drinks.

He really could not afford to be reckless with his money. Especially now that Helen, his girlfriend had told him she was pregnant! Chei! God had caught him! It had been a surprise to him but he had taken it like a man. It must have been those few times they did it without a condom. Na wa! Just like that? Well, he was a strong man, a goal scorer.

What would he do for money now? He needed more money. In a few months a baby would come and preparations had to be made for his first child, a boy… or a girl? Fear gripped him suddenly… maybe twins?! Ah no o! He wasn’t looking for a brace or a hat trick! He offered a silent prayer. He would have to accommodate Helen, and eventually perform the marriage rites. See wetin person come find for Lagos!

He considered his options as he was almost hit by another okada. Mmm… maybe he could buy a bike and rent it out. He had no interest riding it himself. The wahala was too much and he had witnessed a few okada accidents. Not a pretty sight. Option one.

Option two would be to take his uncle’s offer of assisting to manage his carpet shop. But was he really interested in doing that? After all, he had turned down the man’s offer and his pride would not permit him to take up something he had rejected. He wanted to be his own man and make his own money and drive a nice car like the End of Discussion that was in front of him. He looked at the driver, a young man he was sure could not be older than he. Chei! All fingers are not equal true true! Another option popped into his head as he looked on with envy; he could look for driver work! He had learnt to drive in his hometown before he came to town and he was sure that he could handle these new automatic cars. Didn’t he teach John how to drive? Now John was a driver for JB! Maybe John could help him out. Oh! He just remembered John had his WAEC while he didn’t. Enh, he could get one as a private driver, couldn’t he? But could he really do the work of a private driver? He took a look at the traffic around him. No way, he thought. Some of these ogas and madams could be nasty! He heard about one man that used to knock his driver on the head whenever he felt he had made a mistake. He had witnessed a few women shouting at their drivers too. No, it wasn’t for him. He had too much pride for that kind of rubbish. But he thought about his situation and reconsidered the option, after all na condition make crayfish bend. Money, money, money.

He heard an approaching siren and quickly got his bearings. Another big man was passing slowly but surely as the other car owners moved aside to allow the convoy to pass. Peter always wondered how space was always readily made available for the siren blaring police officers, military men, commissioners, council chairmen, etc. wait o! Couldn’t he join the police or the army? Maybe even the air force? No, his mother would disown him. Besides could he go and fight in a war if he was ordered to? Mba, no.

It had gotten dark and it suddenly looked like rain. He did a quick mental calculation. He had sold about N37,000 worth of recharge cards in three and a half hours. It was time to go home before he tempted fate. What with thieving policemen, taskforce raiders and okada riding thieves it made sense to call it a day.

It began to drizzle. He looked around for a free okada. The traffic had really built up and people were moving bumper to bumper. The road was bad and grossly inadequate for the volume of traffic it carried. And all these people will wake up at 4am to leave early for work again tomorrow?! He felt sorry for them. Anyway he had his own problems.

He hailed a passing okada, spoke with the aboki briefly and asked him to go. Nonsense! The guy couldn’t understand or speak English and he was rather young. No be me e go kill today!

He was beginning to get wet. It is going to be a cold night he thought. He quickly found another okada, negotiated with the guy and rode on home where Helen was waiting.

Memories of Being in Love

As Valentine’s Day rolled past I found myself thinking of all the previous Valentines that I ever had. The thoughts strolled past like a slow-motion collage of faces, people, events and emotions. The thoughts eventually became sessions on if I had ever really loved any of the ladies I was involved with at the time. Sure. Of course I had to be in love with them for me to have Val’d them, right? Hang on; let me think about that….

For me loving someone and being in love with someone are two different things; like Beyonce Knowles’ Brown Eyes and Dangerously in Love. Truth is, I have loved a few women but may have actually been in love with only two of them. Doesn’t make sense, does it? Okay, please read me out!

This is just not a case of semantics as some of you may argue, but it is a case of properly defining my emotions. How many of you can remember what it is like to be in love with someone? And no, I am not referring to your ability to love someone. I mean love that makes you break all your rules; the kind that turns you into a hopeless fool? Yes, it is that crazy love that I am referring to; the love that was probably your first (or second) relationship. I do not know how it was for you but I sure know how it was for me.

I was seventeen at the time and without a serious care in the world when it happened. I had just completed secondary school and was trying my best to get into university. I remember feeling on top of the world; like I was the MAN. I mean for a girl like that to ‘agree’ for a guy like me...life could not have been better!

I remember the first time I saw her and thought to myself, “Wow!” I remember the first things she said and the way she walked away. I remember not listening to my friends who said that she was not all that. I remember these same guys telling me how fine she was a few weeks later.

I remember hours spent on the phone, talking about everything and nothing and then dropping the phone to rush a bath and head over to her place. I remember long walks, holding hands and promising my eternal undying love. I remember scouring all the shops and “malls” in VI and Ikoyi looking for that perfect Val’s Day gift. I remember my friends heaving a sigh of relief when I finally found it in some obscure shop along Awolowo Road. Memories of my first kiss still linger, the feel of her lips and the taste of her mouth. I remember feeling woozy whenever she came close to me; the never dying butterflies in my tummy. I still remember her perfume like it was yesterday. I remember swearing that I would not marry someone that did not have long beautiful hair and who was less than 5ft 8 inches tall. I remember having a hole in my heart for the two weeks she had to travel out of town for her grandfather’s burial. How I managed then, I do not know. I remember the midnight calls and ‘tapping’ the phone whenever it was locked. I remember the way my heart would beat whenever she was near; and the way it would sail into the air at the sound of her voice.

I remember trying to explain things to my folks because they did not approve. I was too young they said; and what were we always talking about for hours on the phone? I remember fighting and breaking up for six months and how it tore me apart. Better still I remember making up and promising not to be a jerk again. I remember being far away in university and all I could think about was her. I remember sharing all I knew about life; I remember the way she would look at me full of admiration and love. I remember the day she said I was the best thing that ever happened to her. I remember telling her that I would always love her and knowing that I meant it too! I remember seeing her cry and how it gutted me. How she held my hand and told me she loved me. I remember her telling me that she was seeing some other guy and how she was sorry about it. I remember feeling that I could forgive her anything and doing just that. I remember taking out time before each exam paper to call her to tell her how I felt about her, the paper and all. I remember the letters written back and forth over the years. I remember happiness, joy and a high degree of satisfaction with life.

I remember fighting with my mum who disapproved and not talking to her for a month.

I remember the competition, and how at the time I was too confident to notice him. I remember the night it ended, three years later with the competition being present. I remember the un-replied letters and the unreturned phone calls. I remember the emptiness and the pain and the feeling that the earth had stopped spinning and the world had stopped making sense. I remember the reasons she gave that were excuses really, and then the silence. I remember going about like a zombie without a zeal for life.

I remember swearing I would not let it happen to me again. I remember hardening my heart and dwelling on my pain. I remember becoming insensitive and chauvinistic and un-chivalrous. I remember having a cynical smile whenever she said I love you. I remember putting me first; seeing how it would end just as it was beginning.

I remember trying to pull myself out of the doldrums. I remember finding it difficult to trust her again. I remember not giving my all, swearing that “she won’t do me the same way that she did me.” I remember going through the motions.

I remember growing up and coming out of it and letting my feelings show. I remember trying very hard and having some success with love again. I remember finding other reasons to smile, to laugh and let it all hang out.

In the end, I remember learning how to love someone new with all my heart. Yes, but never quite remembering how to be crazy in love again with all my heart.

Yes, I still remember.