It’s not even 12:00pm and this is already the bestest birthday ever! If you can’t reach me, I’m sorry… I ran away.
The past two and a half months, I’ve been in Warri. One morning I woke up, looked at my last packet of noodles and said to myself, “Surely, even the lowliest servant in my father’s house has much more to eat than this?”
We don’t have servants and I live in my mother’s house, but you get my drift. I conceded defeat, packed a tiny box and left Lagos back to Warri. Since I lost my job, I have struggled much more than I can publicly admit.
I enjoyed the peace and tranquility of Warri. Also, in my small area, because I haven’t really been home in ages, I’m kinda like a superstar. I walk by and people hail me…
“Doctor! Welcome o!”
I nod and wave to them like a celeb.
“How ya ozzband?”
“E dey. We taink God”
My sister is the doctor. The ozzband is her husband, not mine. I don’t bother to correct them though. I just enjoy the hailing and pray in my heart that no one ever collapses from a stroke during one of my celeb doctor sightings. They’ll drag me to the scene, pushing through the crowd that has gathered round the poor stroke victim lying on the ground, writhing in pain.
“Comot for road!! Make way… na doctor she be!”
How then will I explain that the stethoscope I hang round my neck is just a rubber necklace?
I wasn’t totally useless in Warri. One day, while I was eavesdropping on my mother’s conversation minding my business, sound waves from my mother’s conversation reached me and forcefully entered my ears. One of my neighbours was complaining about how hard it is to get good staff these days. So, later, I went over and introduced myself as an HR Professional… I even said it with a straight face and all.
The guy seemed skeptical at first. What do you know about recruitment? I spun some elaborate BS about jobs I’ve done in the past. He said ok, he’ll try me out. So I asked him a tonne of questions regarding the kind of staff he wanted. I think that gave him a bit more confidence. Then we shook hands and that was it.
My former MD used to talk about how he started his empire in a three bedroom flat. So I cleared out the small entrance in our house – a nice space where my mother (the millipede) keeps a gazillion pairs of shoes. There were also several big bags filled with Christian literature.
She’s a pastor millipede.
Anyway, I cleared that space, put a plastic table and two chairs, one standing fan and voila! Ngo Baby’s Recruitment Plc had kicked off. Maybe one day, I’ll write about the adventures of interviewing Warri people. Right now, I’m on a birthday vacation and this is supposed to be a very short post.
I left Warri a few days ago and although I will never admit it in public, I actually miss my mum and her silly Indian soap operas that are all shot in slow motion. I have decided to visit home more often… I’ll try.
I am happy today and I am so grateful for life! I was in such a terrible place this time last year. I thank God for the best siblings in the whole wide world. I don’t even have words… when I try and think of something to say to them, I well up. Thank you Nne, Wooolex!, Chip Chip and Gboo.
I am grateful for friends who cheer me on and applaud even the tiniest baby steps. I don’t know why, but they haven’t given up on me…
I should put up pictures, but I don’t want my enemies locating me via Google pics. Just know, it’s a beautiful place with a lovely beach and lots of seafood. I’m having fun. I took one backpack and my handbag & I regret it because I don’t need three-quarters of the shit I packed.
Sorry for the scatterednessity of this post.
Happy birthday Ngo!