Job Search…

At Obafemi Awolowo University, Ile-Ife, Nigeria I was reputed to have a fair access to cadences employed in arresting my audiences whilst on the campaign trail. I was also fond of lacing into it full bombast, stretching the use of English Language to its outer limits. 

Whilst I was not on the level or scale of many a renowned African orator I was always hailed for deploying my best shots at speaking. It was with this mindset I went about my job search in England. I had the unfettered confidence that I could waltz into any interview and hold the panel bound to the power of my oratory. However, reality dawned on me as my application forms completed with elaborate flourish and flowery style only evinced responses in form of rejection letters.

The option of applying for menial jobs in restaurants and area of security I stoutly resisted.  But for a brief moment under relentless pressure from my cousin Ranti I succumbed and applied to be a porter at MacDonald’s Restaurant, Mitcham. The whole experience was a bizarre adventure and one I was not cut out for.  

My job description was simple, to drench dishes in boiling hot water, spray it with a power induced tap, scrap utensils and general cleaning. For what was perceived to be my clumsiness and awkward approach to my duties I became the butt of so many jokes. I had initially tried to mimic the accent and intonation of the English but soon discovered it to be an exercise in futility.  I lasted only one week before I worked out in the supreme confidence that my destiny could not be tied to this mundane job.