“Young lady!! Are you here to daydream or for an interview?” the coordinator asked.
I looked up at the recruiters that comprised of 2 young Nigerian men, a white lady and the tall, beautiful Nigerian lady that was Coordinating.
I murmured an apology to them all and avoided looking at Femi.
The only time I was forced to look at him was when he was asking me questions. If he recognized me, I wasn’t sure. He kept a straight face and kept bombarding me with more questions. I suspect he remembers. This wasn’t what I planned. Biko! Chineke, do this for me na, let me get this job. Abeg!!
The Company is one of the top 10 communication consulting firms in Lagos. The position was for a project Assistant to the Project Manager. The job would involve lot of brainstorming and travelling. I was into it. Anything that would get me away from Mama Shalewa and her 2 witches that happened to be my sisters. I was tired of them all. God forgive me.
It had not been easy getting a job since I returned from England and completed my National Youth Service (NYSC).
Omoyeni and Omotunde got a job almost immediately after their NYSC. They did not have a master degree and they did not intend on getting one anytime soon. My mother had insisted I leave for my masters immediately after my graduation from Babcock University. One year of studying hard in a shared apartment with a Chinese girl that smelt of garlic, shopping at Primark while my mates were ‘doing’ Harrods , I had to manage money while working in an old people’s home to help out with what was left of the school fees even though it wasn’t required of me. oh yeah, and that tragic event that almost ruined my oblongata.. what was the result? Jobless me!!!
They rounded up the interview looking pleased, well! Only 3 out of 4. He kept a straight face and I couldn’t decipher his stand.
My thesis on corporate growth in multinational company made a tremendous impression on them. The coordinator announced to me that if I was chosen, a mail would be sent to me. I tried not to miss my steps as I walked out of the conference room.
I murmured another thank you to the front desk personnel and found my way out of the Company’s building. Stepping out of the building, I picked up my phone and dialed Omotunde’s number.
“Hello Hun” she answered after the first ring.
“Tunde, call me back and please put Omoyeni on conference”
“What’s the matter Shalewa?”
“Call me back” I hung up and made my way to my mother’s Kia Picanto.
I placed my head on the steering and my head started dancing etigi.
“iru yama yama wo leyi bayi?” (Thinking: if I do get this job, how would I face him?
Well, I hope I don’t end up in the same department with him . ok stop!!! rule that out. what happens if we end up in the same department?)
My phone rang before I could answer my own question. I picked up immediately.
“Hello! Omotunde, is Omoyeni on too?”
“Bawo ni Shalewa, kilon sparkles?” kilon sparkles was Yeni’s slang. She curbed it from Bobo Omotayo’s book ‘London Life, Lagos Living’.
“I’m alright dear; you guys won’t believe what just happened”
“What happened?” they both chorused
“The interview I want for at Marble Consult..”
“What about it? Omotunde interrupted”
“Omotunde, let her talk na, abeg!!!” Omoyeni scolded “He was one of the recruiters”
“Who?” they both asked
“The guy from the club”
“ohoh!” They both exclaimed
I sighed! Story of my life, someone bite me! I remembered trying to tell him my name before Omotunde said it was time to go. I was still in his embrace when I grabbed his head and kissed him. Actually I just gave him a loud brotherly peck on his lips and threw up on his very expensive shirt and shoes; nothing spectacular. Whatever happened afterwards, I was blank. All I know is that I woke up with the craziest hangover ever.
“Did we at least apologize, because I really don’t remember anything else afterwards?”
“ehmmm!!! I think so” Omoyeni answered
“What!!” You don’t know? I screamed
“Here’s the thing” Omotunde took over “the only thing on our minds was to get you home, we laughed a bit, murmured a word of apology and literally carried you to the car. Actually, he carried you into the car because we found out you weighed tonnes and..”
“Oh my God!” I cut her short. “it’s worse than I thought”
I drove home listening to Adele’s ‘someone like you’. I stopped at The Palms and picked up a big bowl of ice-cream. I had no appetite, sighs!!! Omoyeni and Omotunde kept calling. I was too depressed to pick up. I finally started to doze off after hours of staring at the television when my phone vibrated. I picked it up and was about to scream at Omoyeni to leave me alone. Oh! A mail. Twitter can be so annoying at times. Only it wasn’t twitter instead the mail read “Dear OmoShalewa Benson, we write in reference to your interview at Marble Consult today. We are pleased to inform you..”
I dropped my phone, the battery flew out and I jumped so high that my head almost hit the ceiling. Yes! Yes!! I would end the night by calling those 2 rug rats and then celebrate over a cup of fruit wine. Omoshalewa ti arrive.
Omoshalewa Benson: Tales of a Lagos babe is written by Tobilola ‘Bella’ Agoro (@tobiagoro)
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