â€œYoung lady!! Are you here to daydream or for an interview?â€ 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 wasnâ€™t sure. He kept a straight face and kept bombarding me with more questions. I suspect he remembers. This wasnâ€™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 brain storming 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).Â 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.Â OneÂ year of studying hard in a shared apartment with a Chinese girl that smelt of garlic, shopping at Primark while my mates were â€˜doingâ€™ Harrods , IÂ had to manage money while working in an old peopleâ€™s home to help out with what was left of the school fees even though it wasnâ€™t required of me. oh yeah, andÂ thatÂ tragic event that almost ruined my oblongataâ€¦ what was the result? Jobless me!!! â€˜
They rounded up the interview looking pleased, well! Only 3 out of 4. He kept a straight face and I couldnâ€™t decipher his stand.
My thesis on corporate growth in multinational company made a tremendous impression on them.Â 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 Companyâ€™s building. Stepping out of the building, I picked up my phone and dialed Omotundeâ€™s number.â€™
â€œHello Hunâ€ she answered after the first ring.
â€œTunde, call me back and please put Omoyeni on conferenceâ€
â€œWhatâ€™s the matter Shalewa?â€
â€œCall me backâ€ I hung up and made my way to my motherâ€™s Kia Picanto.
I placed my head on the steering and my head started dancing etigi.
â€œiru yamayama wo leyi bayi?Â (Thinking: if I do get this job, how would I face him?Â
Well, IÂ hope I donâ€™t end up in the same department with him .Â ok stop!!! rule that out.Â what happens if we end up in the same department?) My phone rang beforeÂ I could answer my own question. I picked up immediately.
â€œHello! Omotunde, is Omoyeni on too?â€
â€œBawo ni Shalewa, kilon sparkles?â€ kilon sparkles was Yeniâ€™s slang. She curbed it from Bobo Omotayoâ€™s book â€˜London Life, Lagos Livingâ€™.
â€œIâ€™m alright dear; you guys wonâ€™t believe what just happenedâ€
â€œWhat happened?â€ they both chorused
â€œThe interview I want for at Marble Consultâ€¦.â€
â€œWhat about it? Omotunde interruptedâ€
â€œOmotunde, let her talk na, abeg!!!â€ Omoyeni scolded â€œHe was one of the recruitersâ€
â€œWho?â€ they both asked
â€œThe guy from the clubâ€
â€œohoh! 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.
â€œDid we at least apologize, because I really donâ€™t remember anything else afterwards?â€
â€œehmmm!!! I think soâ€ Omoyeni answered
â€œWhat!! You donâ€™t know? I screamed
â€œHereâ€™s the thingâ€ Omotunde took over â€œ 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 andâ€¦â€
â€œOh my God!â€ I cut her short.â€ itâ€™s worse than I thoughtâ€
I drove home listening to Adeleâ€™s â€˜someone like youâ€™. I stopped at The Palms and picked up a big bowl of ice-cream.Â I hadÂ 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 wasnâ€™t twitter instead the mail read â€œDear OmoShalewa Benson, we write in reference to your interview at Marble Consult today. We are pleased to inform youâ€¦â€
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!
[author ]Omoshalewa Benson: Tales of a lagos Babe is written by Bella (@Tobiagoro).Creative mind. Writer. Art Lover. Music lover. Weird. Sheâ€™s the owner of www.brownbells.com[/author]