I looked forward to Saturday. My friend told me that the
recruitment agency recruits for banks. “I was soon going to be a banker, it didn't
matter how much I would be paid”, I mused. The idea of dressing up and leaving
the house everyday was very appealing, I could always write at night, I told
myself repeatedly. I even reminded myself of that beautiful novelist who also
worked as a customer care person in my bank. In my mind, everything was worked
out. About my outfit, I decided that with one look, they will be convinced that
I'm the woman for the job. I asked my cousin if my red suit and blue shoes were
good enough, she replied, why not? I told her that I hadn't ever seen any banker
in a red suit and then decided not to bother my head with colors. My own part
was to look smart.
On the eve of the interview, I went to see my sister who is
a banker so she would prep me for the interview. I told her of my outfit and
she laughed me to scorn. "So you want to look like a butterfly to a bank
interview?" There and then I remembered to get advice from tailors if you
want to know about designs, not from carpenters. We overhauled my dressing for
the "occasion" and we moved on to the preps.
"You see the importance of holding on to my
phone?" I reminded her
"So you prefer to be shot than to allow those cult boys
take your phone?" She replied
"But I didn't die. I am alive and I would have missed
the interview if there was no phone for the company to contact me." I said
to her.
Some days earlier, some petty thieves accosted me and took everything
I had. I had some money and valuables in my bag; they took all of that but I
held on to the Nokia torch phone that I had in my hand. They beat me, dragged
me and even showed me a gun but I held to that one. In my heart, I wasn't going
to let go of a means of companies contacting me for interviews. They have taken
those ones, I'll hold to this one. Meanwhile, some other thieves had stolen my
smart phone some weeks back, so this aunty here was not going to bulge. It
worked because they eventually left me with miserable piece of device they must
have thought I was willing to die for. When I saw the text for the interview a
few days after, I remembered that struggle and also remembered that hard work
pays.
On the morning of the interview, I took my time to get
ready. Everyone adviced me to be in the venue one hour earlier. For what? I
asked myself. The last interview I attended, I spent my last dime on a taxi
drop yet I lost the job to a lady who came late. I purposed to be there by 10:00
am on the dot, the time I was given. I arrived there by 10:00 am as I planned
to see many people standing outside. I found out that we were the second set and
that the first set of interviewees were
already writing the written part of the interview. I got to mix up with some of
the people standing, and I couldn't help but notice what people were wearing.
Shiny suits as a result of too much ironing. Old and discolored clothes. Really
bad shoes and so on. I concluded that truly, there is hunger in the animal kingdom. I also prayed there will be
enough jobs to go round.
An hour later, we were still standing and so I walked in to meet
the organizers. I saw just one man with several people crowding him. I wondered
how a recruitment agency will have only one staff. I tried to make an excuse
for them but none was handy. I advanced towards him and finally got his
attention.
"Why are we still standing after an hour? Didn't you ask
us to come by ten?" He made a shabby apology and asked me to give him a
little time. Ten minutes after, he came out, gave us a paper to write down our
names. Whilst we were doing that, he shared some papers to all of us. That was
the interview questions and we were going to answer them standing. I couldn't believe
my eyes. I met him again and told him to tell those who had written to stand up
for us to sit and write ours. As they did, the seats were taken and I was still
standing. Seeing that I was in a place of no order, I followed him to his own
office and took one of his seats, with his permission of course. I gave the
questions my best shot. They were tricky but a bit simple. I turned around to
see everyone copying from everyone and I knew I had just come to waste my time.
For the oral interview, I noticed people were going in in
pairs. Another wonder for me. I have always known interviews to be a private discussion
between the interviewers and the interviewee. I sat down and patiently waited
for my turn; it was such a long wait. One of the people who went in to be
interviewed came out and said he was too qualified for the job; that's what the
lady interview said, he said. I feared for this unknown job and kept waiting. I
noticed that people I came earlier than they did were been called to go in,
time after time. Once again, I approached the staff man, the all-round employee.
He apologized and told me I will be called up soon. To while away time, I began
to make small talks with those around me. I turned to the guy beside me and
said,
"Maybe they will give you this job. You are the only
whose dressing looks like a banker's. For example, this other guy is wearing
converse with a bow tie. The other is wearing a shiny shoe and his shirt is too
starched. The one that beats me is this one with his very fanciful suit and his
colorful tie." He laughed. The lady beside caught on our jokes and began
to chip in stories of her own. "I am a teacher. I just finished youth service.
What do you do?" "Well, I'm looking for a job and I finished service
in 2015." "And you are looking for this job? Don't worry, God will do
it for you. God will open doors for you. God..." I smiled as she
prophesied. I wished her same. The guy behind me didn't have a friendly look,
so I didn't bother chatting him up. Me and my goons, we gisted and gisted until
my phone fell off my hand and went mute. I became really annoyed this time. I
think everything caught on my anger and impatience because I was called in
immediately, with the well dressed guy. I wondered if it was a coincidence or
if it was intentional.
When we got in, I saw a lady on not too well arranged hair, a
casual top, jeans and flip-flops. I suffered both feelings of surprise and
awkwardness at same time. To spend all that effort dressing up for an interview
and my interviewer would have even been cool if I were wearing my nighties. We
took our seats and she began speaking to the well dressed guy, which gave me, “the
well dressed lady”, room to absorb my environment. He was a bit familiar with
her, so they discussed and I waited. Moments later, she turned to me and asked
the usual questions.
"Tell me about yourself."
"My name is....I am this and that... I have done this
and that..."
"Well, from your experiences you will be a good marketer."
"Ma, I've sold a number of things in my life and I've
helped to raise funds for the foundations I have volunteered for but I do not
want to do bank marketing. I just can't do it."
She spent another ten minutes lecturing on me on how well suited
I was for the job. As she spoke, I wondered if this was still an interview or a
motivation class. When she was finally done, she told me to go meet her
secretary/receptionist/assistant who will further instruct me. He gave me a
10 pages form to fill, accompanied by various certificates that would require
me traveling to the moon to get some of them, and medical examinations and guarantor's
detail, and so really much more. He ended with, "we will contact you when
the companies are ready to interview you."
"So, what did we come here to do today?" a flabbergasted
me asked
"We invited you
so we could match your skills and passion with a job opportunity."
Match skills and
passions indeed, I said to myself. I went home exhausted. The following Monday,
I received the same text, for the same time, for another interview.
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