Sunday 12 March 2017

ShortStory I Unwelcome Good News (I)



UNWELCOME GOOD NEWS
      As Chidi lay in his foam at his humble abode situated in Awka, the Capital Territory of Anambra State, he couldn’t wait till daybreak. He kept rolling from one end of the outdated foam to another as sleep ceased to come at that ungodly hour of the night. All he was focused on was the job interview that lay ahead of him, which was scheduled to take place at 9.00am the following day being Friday 28th March 2014. As he rolled and rolled on the foam, he stylishly glanced at the well-ironed black suit he was to wear on the D-day as it hung by the wall sited directly opposite the foam. He quickly returned his seeming vigilant sight to the pathetically-looking multiple-coloured carpet spread on the room’s floor, felt like shortening the remaining five hours he was supposed to spend on the archaic foam but all the wishes were obviously to no avail.
       Mr. Chidi Okafor who graduated from Federal Polytechnic Auchi, Edo State, Nigeria over eight years back, precisely in November 2005, had earnestly been job-hunting ever since he concluded his National Youth Service programme a year after his graduation, but it seemed his best was not good enough in spite of the fact that he finished with Upper-Credit in Electrical Engineering. Since four years back he relocated to Awka from Benin-City, he had almost toured round the city on foot in the name of searching for a white-collar job that was apparently not forthcoming.
        However, he couldn’t despair as he had vowed to remain resolute and resilient regardless of the circumstance. All he depended on was the menial jobs he had been into right from his school days. As one who hailed from a poor parental background, while in the Polytechnic, he catered for almost sixty per cent (60%) of his needs yet was able to graduate with promising grade.
       “How long would I wait for the day to break?” he thought amid the restlessness, fumbled his weary pillow. “Please, I can’t wait any longer.” He added as the wall clock in the room read 11.56pm.
       He got the notice of the interview the previous day, and since he received the information via Short Message Service (SMS) he hadn’t rested emotionally, thinking that would mark the end of his job-hunting era, not minding that he had been invited for such occasion for the umpteenth time yet nothing fruitful was recorded.
       In the last interview he participated, he was asked to undergo a certain professional programme that could cost over half a million naira, before he would be eligible to be employed by the firm; each time he recalled the experience, he kept pondering over what the country was turning into. According to him, if HND/B.Sc wasn’t enough to secure an employment for the bearer, then it was needless to delve into the four-walls of a higher institution in the first place let alone spending about four to five years therein, as the case may be. Nevertheless, he wasn’t deterred by the lingered challenges surrounding the seeming endless odyssey.
       Indeed, there was still a longtime to cover prior to the awaited daybreak. The electric bulb hung on the old ceiling was on, thus its brightness enabled him to see each of the few items in the small room as sleep frankly refused to visit his eyes. He calmly stood up, took his time to walk round the room, taking note of each of the wears he was to use for the interview. He went to the black plain shoes positioned on the floor directly below the hung suit and plain trousers, raised and re-dusted them with a very clean rag kept beside where he stood. He looked at the clock once again – it was 12:15am. He sighed as the night appeared to have already taken over twelve hours, went back to the foam, and grabbed the pillow while keeping his eyes closed. In few minutes time, he was eventually caught by the sleep that was earlier not forthcoming.
       Five hours on – at exactly 5.00am – he was awake as if he was working with an alarm. He rose, went for his towel, soap and sponge, and dashed outside to have his bath. It was a public yard, so someone was already in the bathroom, thus he had to queue up and await his turn.
       “Who is there?” he shouted after fifteen minutes of wait. “Please, do quickly.”
        “Abeg, wait joor.” A lady’s voice replied from the bathroom. “Did you rent this bathroom?’ she rudely added.
        He was quiet, couldn’t utter a word towards avoiding further delay. He had planned to be at the company’s premises latest by 7.00am about two hours before the scheduled time.
        After all said and done, at exactly 7.10am, he found himself at the firm’s premises.
       “Good morning, sir!” He greeted the gateman, standing.
       “Morning, my brother.” The gateman responded cheerily. “Are you for the interview too?”
       “Yes sir.”
       “Okay, go inside.”
       “Thank you.”
        When he walked in, he noticed an applicant was already there before him. He wondered when the young man left home. “Good morning.” He greeted as he stood next to him.
       “Morning brother.” The colleague responded. “Are you for the interview?”
         Both were well-dressed in their black suits.
        “Yes.” Chidi said. “Are you?”
        “Yea.” quoth the applicant, stretching out his arm for a handshake. “I am Dan.” He introduced.
        “Chidi.” He succinctly said as he reciprocated the gesture. “You really came so early.” He added.
        “Yes I did.” quoth Dan. “I have been in this train for ten years now.”
          He was actually referring to how desperate he was to secure a job.
        “Which train?” Chidi naively inquired.
        “Job-hunting of course.”
        “Are you serious?” Chidi exclaimed, astonished.
         Dan nodded.
         Prior to this time, Chidi thought he was the oldest member of the ‘Job-hunting People’s Association’, not knowing that many had subscribed their membership years before he joined.
        9.00am – the time for the interview – came calling, yet there was no sign of commencement. Two hours later being 11.00am, the littered applicants of about a hundred and fifty individuals were still earnestly waiting for the commencement yet no iota of sign was perceived let alone seen.
       “Are you sure this interview will still take place?” Chidi anxiously asked Dan who was still standing very close to him as they continued to converse about life amidst the hardship. 
       “My brother, I am tired ooh.” quoth Dan. “I don’t just know what is really going on.” He lamented, paused. “No staff has come to address or even welcome us.”
       Within a twinkle of an eye at about 11.16am, a female staff eventually surfaced from the company’s building and stood in front of the crowd. “Sorry, for keeping you waiting.” she said. “I am here to inform you that the interview has been shifted to next week Monday being 31st March 2014, by same time.”
        The teeming applicants watched with utmost surprise, dumbfounded.
       “Thank you!” she concluded, quickly turned and walked towards her office.
        What transpired afterwards ought to be a narration for another day, so stay tuned.

Follow: @mediambassador
 http://facebook.com/fred4nwaozor

     
            

No comments:

Featured post

UZODINMA AND BUHARI’S ‘WORKING VISIT’ TO IMO

by Fred Nwaozor The last time I checked, Imo was conspicuously at it again, hence needs to be re-examined by all-concerned for the good ...

MyBlog

Language Translation

ARCHIVE