Conflicts and Connections
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It has been months since I graduated university and served in a local government center in Ogun State. Convincing the leadership team to allow me to assist them was an uphill battle. Subsequently, I anticipated a smooth transition into a full-time position, but the ongoing struggle to find a suitable role persists. The Nigerian employment system is filled with complexities and challenges that make it difficult for fresh graduates like me to secure meaningful employment. How do you expect a fresh graduate to have at least three years of experience?
I’ve spent hours crafting tailored resumes and cover letters, submitting countless applications. Each rejection letter that arrives in my inbox feels like a blow to my self-esteem, a reminder of the uphill climb I’m facing. Despite my qualifications and determination, the job market remains unforgiving.
I’m not giving up on my dreams and aspirations—visions of working in an innovative technology company, using my skills and contributing to the advancement of the industry. The reality I’m facing is far from that ideal. The opportunities are scarce, the competition fierce. It’s a constant battle to stand out and prove my worth.
The last graduate trainee role I interviewed for, made me accept my current offer. Lord have mercy, graduates were all over the place like pure water. Women with one, two kids in tow were present for the interview examination. If I got the role and they didn’t, I would feel guilty because I’m only trying to build a career while they are trying to survive with their children.
Amidst this frustration, Mama Gee, bless her heart, offered me a lifeline. She suggested I work at the joint till I find what I’m craving for. While I appreciate her support and the stability it could provide, I’m conflicted. Working at the joint would hone my hospitality skills, a field that doesn’t align with my aspirations. What if I like it so much and decide to pursue that path? It means I’ll be putting my dreams on hold.
Gosh, I snicker gently as I ease my bladder, urine trickling into the toilet bowl. When she offered the suggestion, I was thinking of what more I could do to further digitalize the joint—it already has a website and a google business page. There’s absolutely nothing new worth doing for the joint related to the skills I want to hone. I want to build complex applications with teams and later as an individual. I want to help others solve technical problems. If only I’m offered an opportunity to grow and excel in my field, to carve a niche where I could make a difference and pursue my passions.
Sighing, I wipe with toilet paper, stand up, then flush.
The thought of abandoning my dreams and resigning myself to a different path is disheartening. I want more for myself.
Reflexively, I walk into the room I share with Aunty S?epe?, pick up my phone from where I left it earlier, and navigate to Instagram. The first post I see on my feed is a video clip that belongs to Joyce. She created a mini vlog of a day in her life working at a top tier bank’s headquarters. It includes brief shots of her nails as she rides to work, a panoramic view of the sky leading up to the bank”s pylon sign, a glimpse of her entering through the revolving door, footage of her riding the elevator, and close-up shots of her fingers typing on her keyboard. The vlog also captures moments of her having lunch with her work bestie. Eyeroll. Then shows her closing time ritual and finally heading home.
I shouldn’t be pissed but, urgh! The Nigerian employment system frustrates me so much!
The lack of transparency, the prevalence of nepotism, and the struggle to find equal opportunities is a constant source of disappointment. Joyce didn’t hide it when she asked for Linda’s help with a task at work that a friend—senior leader at the bank—of her father—a security at the bank—helped her get the position. She’s still struggling with her role as she doesn’t understand jack, but glad she has something to pay for her lifestyle. I’m not saying her father’s friend shouldn’t have helped, but they should have given her the position only if she was qualified for it. This country ehn, connections and favors hold more weight than qualifications and merit. Where is the fairness in the system?
Despite these challenges and setbacks, I refuse to give up. I’m determined to find my place in the professional world, to prove that my skills and knowledge are valuable. The journey might be arduous, but I know perseverance and resilience would eventually lead me to the right opportunity.
Tossing my phone on the bed so I don’t feel depressed, I walk to the standing mirror.
Why is this lady who’s supposed to be working with companies like Google, Microsoft, Amazon and the likes working at a Computer Business Centre, making photocopies, typing copies and designing obituaries, weddings and event flyers?
“There’s a fire within me,” I mumble to my reflection, my chest rising and falling at the downward pull of my shoulder muscles as my arms hang relaxed and tension-free, “that’s going to burn for the entire world to see. I will gain recognition both domestically and internationally. I reject the notion of settling for less or compromising my dreams based on societal expectations. I am determined to carve my path, to navigate the labyrinth of the Nigerian employment systems and emerge victorious.”
Confident, I speak with gusto. “I draw strength from my confidence… the support of loved ones who believe in me. I refuse to let the challenges dampen my spirit or… dim my aspirations.”
My phone dings with a new message. Rushing to pick it up, I find it’s another rejection email.
Who sends rejection emails on Saturdays? Tsheww.
That’s how my whole confidence has melted into a puddle.
I wish I could go out but well, we’re expecting a visitor—that’s if the visitor makes it. Times like this, when doubt creeps in, plaguing me with insidious words and whispers, I reach out to Evans. However, in the past few weeks he has been extremely busy. Balancing work, travel, personal commitments, and our relationship seems to be a juggling act for him.
At night when our calls go on for hours, he explains what his role entails or the current project he’s working on. For me, it’s the way his voice softens as he explains the demands of his job, the disrespect, the long hours and the constant pressure. He speaks with such admirable passion and dedication. I want it. I want it for myself.
Once, when I lightheartedly told him to stop telling me of his exploits because it makes me depressed about my circumstance, he was so understanding and courteous.
I interrupted him blindly, “Evans, I can’t help but feel frustrated sometimes. Your schedule is always so demanding, and it feels like we barely have time for each other. I miss you.”
The truth is, I miss him. I miss the warmth of his smile, the way his eyes light up when he sees me, and the comfort of his embrace. Our limited time together has made every moment precious, but it has also left me yearning for more. The physical distance and the demands of our respective worlds create a chasm between us, and I worry about the toll it might take on our relationship.
“I know, Fifi. I wish things were different too.” He paused, then continued, his voice laced with regret. “But you know how important my work is to me. It’s just that right now, my plate is overflowing with responsibilities. The government and private sectors are interested in…”
As he went on, my thoughts drifted to how busy he has been and since I graduated, we have only managed to meet in person twice. I can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment when I think back to my graduation day. Although he couldn’t make it because of his hectic schedule, he made it up to me by treating me to a day at a Radisson Blu’s hotel and spa. The experience was wonderful, filled with relaxation and pampering, yet deep down, I couldn’t shake the longing for his presence during that milestone moment of my life.
“I understand, baby. I truly do.” I tried controlling my voice, but even I can feel the hint of sadness in it. “Your dedication and drive are some things I love about you. But it’s hard not to want more time together, to feel like a priority in your life. It’s hard not to want what you have.”
“Ahan Fifi, you’re a priority. I care about you deeply.” His voice was gentle, yet defensive. “But my career is in a critical phase right now, and I need to give it my all. You understand these things nau.”
“I understand, Evans. I really do.” I draw in a long breath and release it before speaking. “You know, sometimes it feels like I’m living in the shadow of your busy schedule. I long for moments where we can simply be together, without the weight of deadlines and commitments hanging over us. I want to be supportive, Evans. I really do. But there are moments when I question if we’re on the same page, if our goals and priorities align. I don’t want to feel like I’m constantly waiting for scraps of your time.”
I was spoiling for a fight, but did he give it to me?
“I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel that way. It’s never been my intention to neglect our relationship. I want to make it work, I truly do. But finding a balance between things I’m working on and our love is proving to be more challenging than I expected.”
“Should we, like…. Don’t take this personal, I just feel like I’m going through a lot—but have you thought of us taking a break?”
“No Fifi. Don’t say that.” He lets off a soft, nervous chuckle. “It hasn’t gotten to that. I promise you; you’re important to me. But right now, I’m striving for a future that will benefit us both. I’m working towards a place where we can have the life we’ve dreamed of. Baby see, when this phase of my career settles, I promise to give you the time and attention you deserve. All the time and attention in the world.”
I must say, after that conversation, I started feeling some type of ways.
Gosh! Since we started dating, Evans and I have shared countless beautiful moments together. Our relationship has been effortless, and it feels like we are in sync on so many levels. I hear Linda and the others talk about sex—their boyfriends and exes demanding it from them—not Evans. Few times I brought it up, he maneuvered the conversation to something else. Amidst the beauty of our relationship, sometimes I wonder if our lack of conflict is a sign of something deeper.
I like us. I love that we don’t fight but… On one hand, the absence of fights and arguments signifies a certain level of maturity, compatibility and understanding. It’s clear we communicate and resolve issues healthily. But… a part of me questions whether we are truly expressing our authentic selves, or if we are simply avoiding confrontation for the sake of preserving the harmony between us.
I’ve always believed that disagreements are a natural part of any relationship. They allow us to grow, learn from one another, and deepen our understanding of each other’s perspectives. Without conflicts, there is a risk of complacency, of complacency that might lead to unexpressed desires and hidden resentments.
Has Evans been avoiding tough conversations, tiptoeing around certain topics to maintain the illusion of perfection? Am I overthinking things and not thankful for what I have? I’m a virgin in her early twenties. A proud one at that. But… my self-esteem is being hit on all sides. Maybe I’m not sexually attractive to Evans. Or maybe he isn’t…?
What is wrong with me? Other ladies would kill to have a man like Evans. Not like we’ve started talking of marriage and the sort, but… wouldn’t it be beautiful to be one of those ladies that had sex for the first time as a wife?
Shush… shush…
I need to silence my thoughts.
Evans and I are doing great!
Relationships evolve and grow over time. So no need to over think mine. We are still discovering each other, learning how to navigate the intricacies of our lives together. I yearn for the day when our busy lives will align, when we can spend more time together and create fresh memories. Perhaps, in due course, we will face challenges that will test the strength of our bond.
As my mind continues to churn with thoughts of Evans and our limited time together, the frustrating employment systems in Nigeria, a sudden commotion from downstairs jolts me out of my thoughts. Distinct sounds of voices and laughter fills the air, echoing through the walls of our family home.
Could it be? It can’t be. But what if… I’m sitting unnaturally still, trying to make sense of the commotion downstairs. Then a smile that appears frozen curves my lips as I realize this can only mean one thing: Special has arrived.