After losing about three different bus-stop scuffles, Odion finally managed to board a bus going to Boundary. Unfortunately for him, an unnecessarily fat woman secured a seat beside him. From her proceeded a seriously offensive odour similar to that of a decomposed fish; without mincing words, her body literally took the form of a hippo.
Odion stylishly blocked his nasal cavity from the smell while ensuring his breathing was unaffected. This was a system he created to survive the stench he usually encountered during his journey back home from work. Given the fact that he lived in Ajegunle, he rode the bus with all sorts of people from below the poverty line.
In a bid to make the journey less traumatic, he brought out an earphone from his bag hoping to listen to the radio on his phone. To his utmost surprise, he was greeted with full emptiness when he reached for his pocket. Odion broke out in cold sweat as he frantically searched for his phone; Just like a needle in a haystack, a whole mobile phone became impossible to locate.
"Why me?", lamented Odion. He was to endure another 2hours of heavy traffic in a poorly ventilated bus right beside a fat woman who was literally sitting on his lap. There was a very high probability that he would spend another 30minutes begging his landlord to open the gate because he was certain on getting home after the curfew and even the so-called bus he struggled to board ruined his only decent white shirt with grease stains.
After sulking for a few minutes, he drifted into deep thought on his life where he evaluated his journey so far in Lagos. He was 27 and had worked relentlessly for 4 solid years; to be honest with you he had nothing to show for it. His savings towards a car had barely passed N200k even though he had been saving for over 38-months. Although he lived comfortably and owned a few luxuries, he had no serious assets that he could point at; Odion was pretty much at the mercy of his salary.
Charity wasn't for Odion as every single penny was already accounted for long before his salary came. Odion had sent money to his parents just once since he came to Lagos. After that, he became a self sufficient island that survived solely on his monthly salary; living from hand-to-mouth.
To be honest, Odion hated his current job. His hope of life in Lagos was a job that would allow him time to work on his pet project back in the village. This was definitely a job in the agricultural arm of the bank of Industry with an official car, a house in Ikoyi, a fat salary and flexible working hours. After searching for his dream job for over 8months to no avail, he decided to be prudent by taking up a job in a field different from economics or agriculture. He needed the money badly and couldn't bear staying idle for another day.
He worked for a lousy boss who barked out orders and constantly reminded him of how useless he was, he worked with scheming colleagues who often withheld vital information from him, he was saddled with unrealistic targets/dealines and also had to endure numerous insults from sometimes less qualified wealthy clients who spoke to him rudely.
Coupled with the travelling time to and from work daily, he was toiling in a job he didn't even have any interest in. The monthly pay slip was the only reason he smiled; he had no friends, no girlfriend, no hobbies, no fun, no strength because he woke up early and returned home late. Saturdays were for washing,cleaning and cooking, sundays were for church and sleeping.
Although Odion was disturbed by the results of his self evaluation, he encouraged himself that if he stayed long enough at the company and worked very hard; he would become boss someday and then life would be sweeter.
Today Odion; the Executive Director of Koroko Holdings turns 52, he was recently diagnosed with high blood pressure and diabetes. Although he is filthy rich and at the peak of his career just like his parents wanted; he is unhappy because doesn't feel accomplished. He feels he sold his dreams for riches and glamour while he jettisoned what made him tick; the dream of developing agricultural practice and finance in his village and beyond.
In reality, Odion happens to be my friend's father. He shared his story with me over drinks as I waited for his son (my friend) to return from an errand. He also gave me the permission to write about his life and experience. With so much fear in his voice he warned me of the dangers of "settling" for a close substitute even though the real deal is not convenient/available. "When you have a clear cut vision of what you want in life, don't ever go in another direction for survival's sake", he advised.
In confidence, he told me of how he contemplated suicide many times simply because he was haunted by the cries of the many illiterate farmers and their families whom he consigned to a life of poverty and misery just because he betrayed his dream and went after money.
He alone knows where the shoe hurts...but I can tell you that from his eyes, living in Odion's body must be hell regardless of the wealth and accomplishments he has amassed for himself.
Odion stylishly blocked his nasal cavity from the smell while ensuring his breathing was unaffected. This was a system he created to survive the stench he usually encountered during his journey back home from work. Given the fact that he lived in Ajegunle, he rode the bus with all sorts of people from below the poverty line.
In a bid to make the journey less traumatic, he brought out an earphone from his bag hoping to listen to the radio on his phone. To his utmost surprise, he was greeted with full emptiness when he reached for his pocket. Odion broke out in cold sweat as he frantically searched for his phone; Just like a needle in a haystack, a whole mobile phone became impossible to locate.
"Why me?", lamented Odion. He was to endure another 2hours of heavy traffic in a poorly ventilated bus right beside a fat woman who was literally sitting on his lap. There was a very high probability that he would spend another 30minutes begging his landlord to open the gate because he was certain on getting home after the curfew and even the so-called bus he struggled to board ruined his only decent white shirt with grease stains.
After sulking for a few minutes, he drifted into deep thought on his life where he evaluated his journey so far in Lagos. He was 27 and had worked relentlessly for 4 solid years; to be honest with you he had nothing to show for it. His savings towards a car had barely passed N200k even though he had been saving for over 38-months. Although he lived comfortably and owned a few luxuries, he had no serious assets that he could point at; Odion was pretty much at the mercy of his salary.
Charity wasn't for Odion as every single penny was already accounted for long before his salary came. Odion had sent money to his parents just once since he came to Lagos. After that, he became a self sufficient island that survived solely on his monthly salary; living from hand-to-mouth.
To be honest, Odion hated his current job. His hope of life in Lagos was a job that would allow him time to work on his pet project back in the village. This was definitely a job in the agricultural arm of the bank of Industry with an official car, a house in Ikoyi, a fat salary and flexible working hours. After searching for his dream job for over 8months to no avail, he decided to be prudent by taking up a job in a field different from economics or agriculture. He needed the money badly and couldn't bear staying idle for another day.
He worked for a lousy boss who barked out orders and constantly reminded him of how useless he was, he worked with scheming colleagues who often withheld vital information from him, he was saddled with unrealistic targets/dealines and also had to endure numerous insults from sometimes less qualified wealthy clients who spoke to him rudely.
Coupled with the travelling time to and from work daily, he was toiling in a job he didn't even have any interest in. The monthly pay slip was the only reason he smiled; he had no friends, no girlfriend, no hobbies, no fun, no strength because he woke up early and returned home late. Saturdays were for washing,cleaning and cooking, sundays were for church and sleeping.
Although Odion was disturbed by the results of his self evaluation, he encouraged himself that if he stayed long enough at the company and worked very hard; he would become boss someday and then life would be sweeter.
Today Odion; the Executive Director of Koroko Holdings turns 52, he was recently diagnosed with high blood pressure and diabetes. Although he is filthy rich and at the peak of his career just like his parents wanted; he is unhappy because doesn't feel accomplished. He feels he sold his dreams for riches and glamour while he jettisoned what made him tick; the dream of developing agricultural practice and finance in his village and beyond.
In reality, Odion happens to be my friend's father. He shared his story with me over drinks as I waited for his son (my friend) to return from an errand. He also gave me the permission to write about his life and experience. With so much fear in his voice he warned me of the dangers of "settling" for a close substitute even though the real deal is not convenient/available. "When you have a clear cut vision of what you want in life, don't ever go in another direction for survival's sake", he advised.
In confidence, he told me of how he contemplated suicide many times simply because he was haunted by the cries of the many illiterate farmers and their families whom he consigned to a life of poverty and misery just because he betrayed his dream and went after money.
He alone knows where the shoe hurts...but I can tell you that from his eyes, living in Odion's body must be hell regardless of the wealth and accomplishments he has amassed for himself.
