I had a lot of expectations for October 1st 2010, not least because it was Nigeria’s 50th Anniversary. I had done a job interview a day before and the result was expected on the morning of October 1st. The first thing I did that morning was to check my email. As expected the results had been sent. Three people of the lot of us were to be selected. As I went through the three names, my hope was suddenly dashed. My name was conspicuously missing. A bad day already and nothing was going to change that.
While I brooded over the implications of another missed opportunity, I heard someone shout from the sitting room. That had to be Henry, my friend – I call him HD – who has this knack for getting excited over non events like finally getting a mail sent. I summoned all the strength I could muster just to get off the bed to the sitting room. I had to see the pictures of the Golden Jubilee celebrations. As soon as Denton saw me enter the sitting room, he shouted ‘‘Joe I got it! I got the job!’’. That was some bright lining in my cloud. I asked him the details of his joy and he then explained to me. A man he met at Nu Metro had told him to just send his application letter for a plum job and the job was as good as his. Seeing HD’s joy, I realized I could get just about anything from him, so I asked, ‘‘Dude can I browse with your system? I’m tired of pressing my phone pads.’’ He granted a fast approval as I knew he would. The first thing I saw on the computer screen was the mail sent report. I decided to read HD’s application letter and these were some of his arguments.
Dear sir madman,
I am attacking my resume for you to refuse following a grief over few of my skills.
I have a keen eye for derail. I am well educate… I received my BSC Horns from a British university… No physical deficiencies but my left leg which was as a result of a fatal accident, where my first car was written-off but nobody died. I won’t pitch my tent with you if hired to help beat the competition.
I was torn between the pains of knowing HD would never get the job and the well of laughter building up within. I ran out into the toilet and gushed out an uncontrolled fit of laughter.
When I got back, HD told me about the reports of multiple bomb blasts in Abuja. I could not but align that with his letter. The recipient of that letter was certain to be blasted off his seat. By now mum had come into the room. ‘‘Joe, so Nigeria starts the next fifty years with bomb blasts?’’, she said in reference to the latest news, but I thought mum was referring to HD’s bomb blasts for a while. ‘‘Mum, the first fifty years started with celebrations and has just ended with bomb blasts – it’s a cycle that can only end better than bomb blasts.’’ She replied and said, ‘‘I just read your article on the CNN website, I am proud of you Joe.’’ What article? I thought, and then I remembered – Nigeria, Past, Present and The Future. Despite my missed job, the IBBs in Abuja and HD’s letter, it turned out a great day for me. A bad start bound to end well, like I know Nigeria’s would.