A Typical Nigerian Story

This is my story…and it is not a movie!

I saw a job advert, liked the role, and applied immediately. Now, that is how this journey started. Moving forward, I received an email from the organization asking me to come for an interview on Monday, the following week. Imagine my excitement at being selected!

Fast-forward to Sunday evening, I ate way too much for my system, taking this and that in without thinking of the repercussions. Why would I, though? I was excited, and they were available for consumption. Early Monday morning when normal humans were still enjoying their sleep, my sins came calling. It began with stomach upset, and before I knew it, my stomach was ‘running’.

I took a shit that night.

In the morning before getting dressed for work, I took another shit. It was then it dawned on me that I was “purging”. How could I be having runny stomach on a day like this?! When I arrived at work, I did not feel any better so I took yet another shit. My interview was scheduled for 11am, and so by past 10, I left my workplace hoping that I would be able to arrive just in time. Plus, I concluded that since I had taken three bountiful rounds of watery faeces, I could handle the rest of the day.

First of all, to not know one’s way around the city of Abuja is a tragedy. Secondly, women are terrible taxi drivers!

Everyone in Nigeria knows about the fuel subsidy removal, hence, male and female, rich and poor have all started to use their cars to pick up passengers along the road in order for them to be able to fuel their cars. So that was how I fell into the hands of this hustling woman.

A girl in a hurry to meet up with her interview, and a woman who barely knows the routes in Abuja, save for where she is headed; we became two blind persons leading each other. They say “who dey ask question no dey miss road” but they forgot to add that it is very important to “ask who know road”. When we arrived at a place, I explained to her where I was headed, and asked how I would be able to get to my destination. Little did I know that this woman did not exactly know the way, and mind you, that would be the second time that I am experiencing a supposed female taxi driver who did not know where her passengers were headed.

When she dropped me off at her last stop, she advised me to move forward and enter a taxi to another location before I would be able to get to where I was really going. The clock was ticking real fast, and by this time, it was already almost 11am. I entered a taxi as directed by the woman, and the driver zoomed off.

We were halfway gone when I just casually told him where I wanted him to drop me off. He became really upset, and the other passengers were shocked.

“You suppose dey ask questions na, because where I carry you from so, na there you dey go,” the driver said.

Ah, I could not believe my ears! First of all, I was considering the cash with me, and more importantly, there was no time to be going round Abuja aimlessly. The driver angrily pulled over and asked me to drop, before giving me the right direction to where I was headed. He was gracious to me to collect lesser than half of what he had charged me.

Although the description made me look less of a fool, it did not stop the journey from being stressful and complicated, and totally time-wasting. However, by the time I got to my destination, it was already almost 11:30am, and I was sweating like a “Christmas goat”. I entered and met three other persons there; two girls and a boy. Obviously, they were there for the interview too. I was given a paper to write my name on, and I became the fourth person on the list.

Then the wait began.

We waited and waited and waited…if you are quite familiar with the typical Nigerian style of interviews. I had totally forgotten about my predicament until my stomach reminded me. It wasn’t intense at first, but one thing I have learned about this thing called “purging” is that if you don’t rush to the toilet as soon as possible, it will embarrass the hell out of you. But this was a new environment for me, and I needed to comport myself; interview manners and all. I kept praying and hoping that whoever was supposed to attend to us should begin immediately before my situation gets out of hand.

My prayer was not answered at all.

We continued to wait. Soon, I became the most uncomfortable candidate in the room. I had to forcefully press my butt to the chair when I felt the shit rushing to come out. Then I changed my prayer point: that a staff in the organization should walk past so that I could ask for their restroom! Fortunately for me, a staff did walk past after saying that prayer earnestly, because I tried to imagine what would happen to me if I should poop on myself there and then…with my beautiful dress and pair of good heels? Hell no!

No be with my clear eye I take say ‘Excuse me, could you show me to your restroom, please?’

I was directed to the restroom, but then another problem arose; the restroom was way too close to the office of the members of staff of that organization. Like, I could literally hear them conversing, and I know for a fact that they would hear any funny sound coming from the restroom. And I guarantee you, “purge” does not disappoint at all! It comes rushing out with a shattering sound, sending dops of liquid poops flying about the wall of the inner toilet seat.

I knew this, and I also knew that my reputation was at stake.

Again, I knew that if I stayed too long in the toilet, they would know that I went in there to do the poop business. I mean, who goes for an interview and ends up taking a shit in their toilet even before being interviewed? So the only thing I thought could help came to mind; I pressed my butt-cheek together and tried as much as possible to release the poop slowly, in an attempt to subdue its announcement. Also, I took a fast opportunity to let it out whenever they start to laugh or gist in high tones. At least, their noise would prevent them from hearing the suppressed sounds coming from the restroom.

It was the most uncomfortable shit I have had to take in years, and I hated it! Anyway, I was able to get most of my problems out. I flushed and washed my hands, and returned gorgeously to my seat, and joined the others in another round of waiting for the coming of Jesus Christ. When the interview eventually kicked off, the interviewer spent nothing less than 45minutes interviewing each candidate.

“What in God’s name is he asking them?!” I groaned inside me. “This man will not hurry up with this interview now until my stomach starts to sing again,” I thought sadly, and to think that I happen to be the last person to be interviewed.

Well, my stomach did start announcing the arrival of an impending “purge”, but fate was kind enough to let me get interviewed successfully, rush back to my current place of work, and race like a lunatic to the toilet to dump everything there…freely.