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The Memoir of a fresh graduate
By Winsala E O'Seun
Friday, July 24, 2009
Rated "G" by the Author.
It is part of the first chapter of the short story which tells of the tales of Kunle Omitogun and the stress he had to go through to get his first job.
Waking from what seems to be like a nightmare and a good dream at the same time, I felt like I was plunged into a pool of water. I quickly took my wristwatch to check what time it was.
“Its 5:30am” I felt myself say. “What 5:30am. Oh my God. Damn it. Where is my alarm clock?”
On getting up, I remember I was no more a student. I went back to sleep.
The second time I woke up that morning was when the sunlight lit on my face. I jumped out of bed knowing fully well that I had an interview that morning. It was 7:45am. I rushed to the bathroom to take a wash. In the bathroom, I remembered I was supposed to switch on my laptop immediately I woke up. It usually takes up to thirty minutes for it to come on. I knew I was in for it.
I took a look at my shirt. It was rumpled; I knew I could not go for the interview in it. So I used the charcoal iron my neighbor gave me to press it. While I was at it, my phone rang. It was from Klintech, the company conducting the interview.
“Is this Mr. Kunle Omitogun?” The sweet voice from the other end said
“Yes it is.”
“This is from Klintech Company. This is to inform you that the interview will be starting in less than one hour. I hope you are with your things?”
“What, in less than one-hour? Yes, yes I’m with oh shit my shirt. Sorry I’m with my my credentials.”
“Okay. See you in forty-five minutes time” She dropped.
It seems everything is falling apart for me. My shirt is burnt. I have unprinted credentials on my laptop which might take at east an hour to come on.
I looked at my shirt hoping that it was not burnt. Or better still, hoping the phone never rang. Then suddenly, I realized that the burnt part of my shirt was at the left flap. I felt blood rush to my face. I was happy at least for now. I continued to press the part that was not burnt.
I tucked in my shirt and pulled up my trouser up almost reaching my belly button. I stood in front of the mirror to check myself out.
“Wow, who on earth is this?” I found myself saying. I was estranged even to myself. “After this interview, hopefully I will get the job, I will clean myself up. Go to the best boutiques around to get myself suited up with the best shirts and shoes there is. But first I must excel in this interview.”
I took my laptop which I forgot to turn on again and made for the stairs. It was heavier than before in a funny way. By the time I was on the street, I was still indecisive about the mode of transportation to use to get to the venue of the interview. Time was running out on me and I might loose this one. I had thought about taking a cab but I did not have enough fare to board it. The only two options left for me were to either take a public bus or board a bike. With me having less than one hour left for me to get here, the first option will not be wise for me to take. At least not for this Lagos traffic jam. The only option left for me was to board a bike. Though there were consequences like me looking rough and all that but there is always a trade off, I will get there on or before time.
The first three bike riders that came thought I was a CEO of a business firm trying to beat the traffic. Though they did not say it that way but they implied or sounded more like it with their exorbitant fare.
Thank goodness the fifth bike rider reasoned with me and accepted to take me there at a reasonable fare. While on the bike, I had to tell the rider to take it slow because I had not given birth and do not want to die young.
Alas, I got to my destination almost ten minutes behind schedule. There was no cause for alarm because there were five other people there by the time I got there. So I had time to rethink, redress, retract and redo my composure.
I tried thinking about what I had learnt in school but could not believe it, I had forgotten it all. I could swear I almost forgotten the course I studied in school. It was then I remembered I had not printed my credentials. How could I have forgotten to tell the bike rider to stop me at the available business center near the office to print my C.V.?
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