Job Hunt
“Hello”
“Hello…”
The compound appeared deserted and void of any human activity.
Something did not feel right, and I could feel a strange tingle in my spine.
The kind of tingle I feel when something terrible is about to happen. The same tingle I felt when Mama Adanna’s baby fell in the well and almost drowned herself to death, or the same I felt when chibuzor broke into the compound and raided the entire shops on the block.
It was strangely familiar, yet, I preferred to ignore it.
I moved very subtly towards the building with dread filling my heart.
The structure stood huge and looming before me like the proverbial Goliath. I was mindful that every establishment should look like this, but this one had something that did not sit well in my guts.
I could not place my hands on it, but I knew something was wrong with this place. That too, very wrong for that matter, yet I could not help but proceed. Maybe it was out of curiosity or out of the need to make basic survival.
I just knew I had to keep moving in.
How did I get to this place at all?
I had been on a job hunt for the past twelve months. Almost a year since I was wrongly fired with no reason from my position as HR personnel.
After spending the better part of three years dedicated to my job at the office.
One day, Mr. Shadrack walked up to me and handed me a brown envelope with a heavy seal. Without warning. Without reason; I was being fired from my job.
In the corporate world, a brown envelope could mean a lot of things, but when it is presented with a heavy frown and fidgety eyes. It carries only one message: Termination.
After a series of unsuccessful attempts to apply to other organizations and amidst several endeavors to tweak and review my resume, I realized that I had spent approximately a year at home living off the goodwill of my friends and family with the excuse of being “unemployed”.
But then grace found me, or so I thought.
On a fateful Tuesday morning, I had been strolling with one of my friends across the street when I noticed a job vacancy posted on the wall in one of the complex buildings within my area.
The job specification seemed to meet my resume skills, and I was ecstatic when I saw that the job offered a minimum payment of 150k per month!
Oh, the joy that filled my soul with the thought that I would somehow be financially independent again, was unquestionable!
And that was my first mistake.
I let my emotions get the better of my brain.
Not curious enough to wonder why such a job vacancy would be lying passive in a residential area, I quickly dialed the number, and I was informed to come with my credentials the following day to an undisclosed address that the company would text me.
Fast forward to the deal day, I’m moderately dressed in a blue blazer and white pants— the best clothes in my obviously lacking wardrobe.
Corporately dressed, I throw on a smile of confidence and an air of audacity, finally grateful for the opportunity to try again.
I reach for my phone to ascertain the location again. It was there, boldly written across the screen of my Android phone.
The address that was going to change my life both figuratively and literally.
I noticed that the address appeared to be situated in one of the most secluded parts of the city. I felt a subtle tinge and tried to push it aside.
I would get a job whether by hook or by crook, I was tired of being my parent’s charity case.
It was clearly about time I got a life.
As I arrived the quiet premises, I moved slowly through the gate and felt that tinge rattle my spine again….
I did not like this feeling at all, but I tried to push away any feeling of anxiety and suspicion coming from the paranoid part of my brain.
“Lola calm down” I whispered to myself quietly. “Lola calm down….. it’s just your paranoia getting the better of you.”
But deep down I knew that this was beyond paranoia and anxiety….there was something within me creating awareness, an awareness I could not decipher and comprehend.
Suspicion one: There was not even a single soul within the premises and it was past 7 am already!!
Work officially starts at 8 am in all organizations across the country, why did this have to be any different?
Suspicion two: there was no gateman at the gate either……it was all empty, and any Tom, Dick, and Harry could waltz in without proper scrutiny.
“Calm down,” I told myself again. Maybe the gateman here is just like Suleman, I thought to myself, making up excuses that did not add up.
Suleman was a good excuse. The gateman had to be like Suleman, that’s the only thing that made sense. He just had to be. Suleman who resumed the latest at work even though he was supposed to be the first to welcome members of staff in. Suleman who slept during the day and slept at night, even though he was being paid to be an active watchdog of the premises. Suleman who turned the office into a friend’s meetup/hangout joint even during work hours.
Suleman who my former boss never thought to sack even though he was clearly incompetent, and no good at his job at all.
Suleman should have lost his job, and not me.
“Not me…”
I hissed in disdain, still burning from the loss I have had to suffer since I was served that bloody brown envelope.
I peered forward slowly and continued to mutter to myself.
Not me.
Maybe everywhere I go, there’s always a Suleman waiting to welcome me. I tried to placate myself.
“Hopefully, I don’t get to leave before this one. This company looks like they know their onions. It can’t be that bad.” I muttered to myself as I walked quietly towards the huge mahogany door that stood looking like the gateway between life and death.
The door was the only entry point into the structure. I wondered quietly to myself why such an organization would have only one entry and exit spot.
As I sauntered into the room, I continued to tiptoe slowly into the room like a thief in the dark.
The passageway was probably the longest I had walked in my life
But oddly I started to recognize something about it. The jagged paint design on the wall…the rough design of the ceiling…..I had seen it somewhere before.
This ceiling, this passageway….I could recognize it from somewhere in my subconscious…..
“But, how can this be?”
Everything looked oddly familiar.
I thought to myself. “Lola, did you dream about this meeting today?”
Yes, I did and that was when it hit me fully in the face.
I had been given a premonition of what today’s event would look like…but I could only remember that dream in bits and pieces like the universe had deliberately cut off the many intrigues of the plot to build suspense within me.
Every time something phenomenal and life-changing was about to happen in my life, I always had a dream that showed the details of how it would come.
Ironically, I never had a dream that I would lose my job. Maybe I did but did not remember when I finally woke up to reality. The intricacies of the universe is something one would never understand.
Sometimes the dreams would come with a foreboding of doom and evil and all other unmentionables. Other times, the dream would be promising and full of good events.
It was because of this my ability to dream and see bits of the future that uncle Bolu had not married his fiancee. Mother used to refer to my abilities as a gift, and resorted to calling me names, like
“my Prophetess”, “my pastor”, “the apple of God’s eye”. This became the norm after I had a dream that papa was going after a girl in the next street and showering her with cash gifts even when he told us at home that he was broke and having financial issues. When mother heard about my dream. It had been a terrible day in the neighborhood.
Mother had gone over without doubt to the girl’s house and threatened to pour her hot water if she ever came near my father, her husband, again.
After that day, Papa had stopped his night escapades and had returned to giving Mama proper feeding allowance.
But here I was, unable to help myself with my abilities. The same ability that had been of help to my family.
The same gift that seemed to turn its back on me whenever I needed it the most, especially with the way it deserted me when I was sacked from my previous job.
There had been no premonition, no nothing…just a rude brown envelope, and wandering eyes that would not meet for an explanation.
I started walking again and pressed my mind harder to create clearer pictures of the foggy haze that had become my dream from last night.
Everything was the same as it had been in my dream. I remembered now. Flashes from the previous night filled my vision here and there.
The desolate compound, the desolate office, the jagged painting in the ceiling, and the rough exterior of the passage wall.
Other flashes began to come in together faintly but distinct.
A man’s face with a deep etching scar in the corner of his left eye
I shuddered.
My head continued to fill up with several distorted, yet unconnected images. I could not understand it.
Why did everything have to be like this? I could remember the dream from the last two nights, the dream I had last week was still fresh and vivid within my mind…the dream I had a week ago was still clear and distinct, but this one that seemed so relevant appeared to have the least relevance to my memory.
“Dear God, please save me,” I muttered to myself.
‘Go back!” I chided myself quietly. “This place appears to be desolate. Haven’t you heard of all the cruel things that befall job hunters in the city of Lagos?”
“Hmmm…but the main building might not be desolate…you know the man called to say he’s waiting for me already,” I tried to pacify my conscience.
“And so what? Of course, he’s probably only waiting for you, to plan and execute your death, Lola run now that you’ve still got the chance to. Be smart. Only smart victims live to tell the story.”
“But I need this job, desperately, and you know this.….150k with a BSc is big money ooo. Even people with a Masters degree would jump on this offer like crazy too.”
“Miss Lola?” A voice interrupted the debate going on in my head and caused me to jump. I am frightened for the umpteenth time.
“Who are you?” I barked immediately letting my instinct take over, rather than my brain.
I watched the man give me a sadistic look. I obviously looked like a joke to him.
What impudence!
“Hmm….Hmm….” I continued clearing my throat desperately.
“I mean… err… Sorry, sir… err… .you must be Mr. Gabriel….the one who directed me to come to this company??”
The man gave me a judgemental glance as I looked like a crazy clown to him.
“Nope, I’m not Mr. Gabriel. Please address me as Captain. “
“Captain?”
“Yes. That’s what everyone calls me.”
“Everyone?” I replied looking around at the desolate building to indicate my thoughts and suspicion.
“Oh yes! Everyone. They’ll be with us soon, do not worry.”
He smiled with a sinister look in his eyes.
“Nice to meet you, Lola.” He stated as he stretched out his hands to shake me.
I reached out and felt like I had just touched ice as soon as our palms made contact. His hands were as cold as water taken from the fridge.
Wait, was that blood in his hands?
He had the stain of fresh blood on his hands!
“Jesus Christ!!!”
I pronounced subconsciously and jerked away in fright.
I looked up at his face and watched him notice my anxiety with pleasure.
I quickly looked around the room and noticed that he’d locked the only exit door in. There was no way out.
There was no one around to save me.
I’d come to look for a job and I’d found more than just a job.
I’d found a painful exit to a new world.
“Jesu…Mogbe”
I watched as he moved into the farther part of the room and reached for a sturdy knife. The edge looked so sharp like it had been used before for several blood and body sacrifices.
“Ermm…erm…Mr….sorry..captain…what are you doing?”
He turned around and began to laugh with aggression as he twisted the bloody knife in the air suspiciously.
“You were not supposed to see that. Now you’d have to play the evil game.”
“See what?” I replied in fright.
“The blood on my hands”
“Hmmm..hmmm…I didn’t see anything. I swear with everything in my being. Please let me go.” I stuttered desperately.
That was when I realized that I was at the crossroad of death.
I had fallen into the hands of job preys and ritualists in the search for greener pastures. In the search for a job. I had been lured into the den of death.
There was no going back. My life is finished.
He moved quickly towards me, and I could swear that the glint in his eyes was of the Devil.
He wanted only one thing, blood, my blood, and he was going to get it.
I thought of my parents, my siblings, how I should have lived better.
So this was what death looked like?
He moved closer and I suddenly found myself taking flight to nonexistent safety.
I suddenly began to run around the room in circles, shouting and chanting to all the gods and deities that I knew on earth.
From a long Hail Mary to a chant of “Jesus please save me, I don’t want to die.”
“Orunmila”
“Allah”
“Sango”
I was in tears and begging for one last chance at life. One last chance for mercy. It was the height of desperation. I was before the face of death.
Captain suddenly cornered me and yanked my arm as he pushed me into his sweaty arms.
“God, please, no!” I yelled.
“Please don’t kill me, I’d do anything. Just don’t kill me.”
Suddenly he started to laugh again as his hands tightened around my arms.
I watched the knife lower swiftly into my neck.
“God please, don’t let me die like this.”
“No!!!! Please no!!! I have money, no I don’t, but if that’s what you want, I’d give you my brothers’ money. My family would pay. Please, Just don’t kill me!!”
“Please!!”
“Shut up, woman!” Captain yelled, spittle flying everywhere in my face.
The cold steel of the knife connects with my neck simultaneously.
Blinding pain washed me first before I felt the knife begin to work itself into my skin, Piercing slowly…Slicing layers.
Is this how I die?
“Cut! Cut!!”
“Cut!!! Cut!!!”
“Cut!! Captain”
“That’s enough, Cut!!”
Suddenly, I watched as the menacing grin on the captain’s face changed into an illuminating smile.
Twisting from the devils incarnate to a charming prince.
At once, as if in a movie, people dressed in office and corporate wear began to emerge from hidden corners and hallways that I didn’t see before.
They were clapping.
I looked up at all of them in disgust as I tried to wipe away the tears from my eyes.
Who were these people, and why were they all smiling and clapping?
“You passed the test, Lola.”
“T..ess..tt..??” I replied stuttering, angry that my eyeliner had smudged and all these people had to see me in such a disheveled, embarrassing state. But grateful simultaneously to be alive.
Even though I was still confused, and recovering from the shock.
“The test for the job. You passed it.”
“What Test??? You’re all scaring me!” I announced, breathing into tears, unable to control my shaken emotions. How did someone go within minutes from a life-threatening situation to this madness that they called a test?
How?!
“We hardly have people make it this far. Usually, our recruits faint as soon as they see the blood. We do all of this to ensure that the people we bring on board are nicely inundated with what it truly means to work in an acting company. Welcome to the team, Lola!!”
“What?!” I stuttered again for the umpteenth time.
“Plus, we needed someone to cast this role for us. So far, no one has projected the right tension for the cast, so we thought we’d stage a fearful scene with you.”
“You’re all very stupid!” I pronounced suddenly with vexation as I noticed some of the workers attempting to reach out to hug me.
“This is your idea of an interview?? You’re all a bunch of psychos that I would never work with!!! Gosh!!!”
“I quit! Yes. That too, the very minute I got the job.”
“What?” They all thundered.
“Yes, I quit, you heard me right. I’d rather be on the streets begging for bread than be in the same room with the lot of you!!”
I declared as I walked out of the room with their eyes trailing behind me in shock.
Good riddance to Job hunting!
Maybe I’d go follow my gift and find how to make money on this spiritual journey after all.
All images are sourced from pexels.com
The one who spells Afrolady from the larynx of her pen. She’s a high spirited, cultured and ingenuous African child, whose writing drops an unimaginative creative splash on history and carves the indignation and memories of Black women.