MY NIGHTMARE JOB IN LAGOS __#54

Everyone in my village thought I had made it.

When I got a job in Lagos, my mother killed chicken. My father prayed for me in our compound in Nnewi, "My son will work in big company in Lagos, with AC."

I also thought I had made it.

The company was on the Island — one big digital marketing agency with glass office, fine girls, fine boys, everybody speaking "ideate" and "synergy". They told me during interview, "We are family here. We work hard, we party hard."

I did not know that "family" was the nightmare.

My salary was 120k. My rent in Egbeda was 800k yearly. My transport from Egbeda to Lekki every day was 4k if I take Danfo and Keke. If I take Bolt because I woke up late, 12k.

I calculated. If I go to work 22 days in a month, transport alone was 88k........... Remain 32k for food, data, light, and tithe.

But I said, no, I will manage. Lagos is where the dream is.

The nightmare started slowly.

First, it was the 7am meetings. Boss would schedule meeting by 7am, but I live in Egbeda, I have to wake up by 4am to beat traffic. If I come by 7:15am, he would look at me and say in front of everybody, "African time. That's why this country will not grow."

Second, it was the "urgent" tasks by 6pm on Friday. You are already carrying your bag to go home, then Slack pings: "Chinedu, client needs 10 creatives by Monday morning. Can you work on it over weekend? Family na."

Family.

Third, it was the salary delay. End of month, salary will not come. 2nd, 3rd, 5th. When you ask HR, she will say, "The CEO is traveling, he needs to approve."

But every Friday, they will buy Hennessy and do office party and post on Instagram "Work hard, party hard #AgencyLife".

I was losing weight. My white shirts turned brown because I had no time to wash. My mother called me, "Nwa m, you no dey chop? Your voice don change."

I could not tell her that I was eating Gala and Lacasera every day for lunch, because that was all I could afford.

The real nightmare happened on a Tuesday.

Client shouted at us on Zoom call. Client said our work was rubbish. My boss did not defend us. After the call, he called me into his glass office.

"Chinedu, you are the reason we lost that client. Your copy is weak. You are not proactive. You are not giving your best. In this company, we need sharks, not tilapia."

I looked at him. I had not slept for 3 days because I was working on that same client's work. I had not seen my girlfriend in 2 weeks. I had eye pain from laptop.

I wanted to say, "Sir, I am trying."

But I just stood there, nodding like mumu.

That night, I entered Danfo going back to Egbeda. Traffic was mad. 3 hours inside traffic, standing, holding the iron. Sweat everywhere. Body odor from different people. Conductor shouting "Enter with your change o!"

Inside that Danfo, squeezed between one woman selling fish and one man pressing phone, I started crying. Real tears. No sound, just tears dropping inside that hot Danfo.

That was my rude awakening inside my nightmare.

I realized my nightmare was not a bad dream I would wake up from. My nightmare was that I was awake, inside a bus, at 10pm, going to a house I could not afford, from a job that was killing me, and I was calling it "dream job" because my village people thought I made it.

Everyone around me in the Danfo was also in their own nightmare. The woman selling fish was sleeping standing, with fish basket on her head. The man beside me was editing CV on his phone inside traffic.

Nobody was living. Everybody was just surviving and posting on LinkedIn "Grateful for new opportunity."

I got home by 11:30pm. No light. My room was hot. I lay down on floor because mattress was too hot.

And I asked myself, "Is this the Lagos my father prayed for?"

The next morning, I did not go to work.

I woke up by 9am — first time in 8 months. I drank garri without sugar, but I drank it sitting down, not standing inside Danfo.

I opened my laptop and typed resignation letter. 3 lines: "Thank you for opportunity. I am resigning. My last day is today."

My boss replied after 2 days: "Ok. Come and drop your ID card and laptop."

No "Thank you for your service." Just ID card and laptop.

That was 3 months ago.

Now I am back in Nnewi. I write content for small businesses here. One POS woman pays me 30k monthly to manage her WhatsApp status. One chemist pays me 20k. I make 80k now, less than Lagos 120k, but I sleep by 10pm, I eat my mother's soup, I can wash my white shirts.

My nightmare ended the day I stopped calling nightmare a dream.

If you are in Lagos right now, inside traffic, going to a job that is pressing your neck — this is your sign. Some nightmares you don't wake up from by sleeping. You wake up from them by standing up and leaving.

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