I envy people with a 9 to 5 jobs because it seems all is cool and sweet with them. However, I don’t think they have the fun that comes with my jobs. “Jobs” yes, plural cos in this earth I’ve gone through a hell of jobs. It’s even worse when you don’t get the fun out of the so-called hard job. In this life we need daily dose of laughter one can get, otherwise you go just die ‘sharp sharp’. And for person like me wey be woman, na wrinkles go full my face like classic or Tara powder.
My name is Chinwe. I got my first job in a bakery. We deal mostly with bread, different types and size you name it. The job was hell!!!!!. Especially when you get to be at the slicing section. My bakery job was a Sunday to Sunday job except the fact that we ran shifts. I clearly remember my first day which unfortunately was night shift. I stood the whole night slicing the loaves of bread with the machines used. I remember crying inside of me and cursing the man in charge of the night shift. I was still battling with the hundreds in my front and still another hundreds will come again all for me to work on. When I felt sleepy, he will come from behind to either startle me or scream in my ear, Then go ahead to remind me that I was the one who came for the job and how millions of people out there are hoping for such opportunity. I swear to God if humans were born without a heart, I would have killed him that day.
Well, I needed the pay no matter how little it was. The struggle continued till I got a new one, this time, in a school as a cleaner. One thing I liked about this job was it gave me some stolen time to sleep during school hours. But the “hard” part of the job was caused by the closeness of the school to the house of the proprietress. I did my cleaning job also in the house if I had one reason or the other no matter how brief to get to her place. If I wasn’t sure washing plates then it was cleaning of the floor or sweeping the surroundings. My sister, no be small something, so teey, I had to wash clothes, Imagine!!!!.
All this I did in good faith. A gold fish I hear has no hiding place. From my cleaning job, I became a minder. Attending to children in pre-nursery class. I didn’t see much stress in this new work of mine since my mind was set on the fact that I was working with children who had little or nothing of their own will. But this life anything you do will always have someone complaining or applauding you. It happened at the beginning of a new term when a parent came complaining straight to my “oga at the top” that I do make her waste food because I don’t always feed her daughter. Hmmmmm, make una see me see wahala. Pikin Wey no wan chop?
On a serious note was I supposed to force the food down her throat? Trust my madam who believes customers are always right. She assured her she will personally see to the feeding or get other means of feeding the child. The moment she said that I knew she was speaking from the left side of her mouth, and indeed, she was. Just when I thought I was through with mummy Blessing, mummy Onome came with her own. She complained the food in her daughter’s lunch box is supposed to remain till after school; because she comes a bit late to pick her up. My dear I just weak. How am I supposed to pack up the food and twist my mouth and tell Onome to stop eating, When obviously the girl wants more? Weeks turned to months and to full term. I continued and tried to enjoy the job with the little gain that came from the side especially when a child likes you.
Then I came across an advert for workers needed in a hotel with a pay good enough to tempt someone like me. I applied for it but that part is a different chapter altogether.
To be continued….
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