I've told you multiple times, Dunni. This your obsession is getting
too much. Look at your room! Chinese books everywhere. What do
you even see in these people? See, this is my last warning, Dunni. Look for
a stable job and throw out all this garbage.
Mtchew.
"
The same old words eachday,does my mom notgettired?
I picked up
my wuxia novel and put on my bookshelf that contained a bunch of Asian
cultural books and history. You can't blame me, I enjoyed it a lot.
Reading about different cultures helped me to see the similarities and
differences between people, and it was not just limited to the Chinese books
that my parents always managed to find me reading. I loved Asian culture
in general, and it had been a part of my life since teenagehood. It so
happened that my parents did not believe in my passion and said I was
wasting away my youth
.
I mean, the economical growth in Nigeria was really bad—handling
jobs was not an easy task. Most of my friends who got jobs as soon as we
graduated were now jobless because their companies went bankrupt or
something. I would rather stay home and read books or watch dramas than
struggle to submit my CV at a company that wasn't capable of paying their
employees.
I went into the bathroom to get ready for church, and I was already
prepared for the lectures my parents would give me in the car. They did this
all the time. It was always the same talk about my future and it was getting
pretty annoying at this point.
Igetit!
I wasn't like Shola who worked at the
CBN, nor was I like Ifeoluwa who worked at a real estate company in
Lagos.
I was just Adunni Olayanju, my father's daughter. Well, having lost my
job two years ago, my parents did not see me as their daughter anymore. I
was just "an oversized baby that's eating up all the food in the house",
according to my father, Mr. Ayobami Olayanju. I wished my eyes could go the back of my head and never come out. My parents were already
speaking even before I got into the car. Somehow, I had mastered their
speaking technique, so I knew exactly when to block them out or let them
in. Let's just say, I didn't let them in throughout the journey to church.
Immediately we got to the entrance, I sighted Vanessa and I abandoned
my parents to go stay with her. They couldn't do anything, obviously. Or,
would they drag a 28-year-old by the ear to come sit with them?
Hellno.
We sat down together and I admired the beautiful
Ankara
dress that she
had on. Vanessa was my childhood friend, and she seemed to be the only
one that cared about my dreams. We equally had dreams of our own, and as
good friends, we supported each other no matter what. Vanessa hoped to go
to the UK for her masters while I hoped to study in Seoul, and we both had
these dreams fresh in our minds.
The only difference was that her parents were supportive and were
planning to fund her education, whereas my parents thought I was living in
a fool's paradise. All in all, we were gonna make it, I knew that for sure.
"So, any luck yet? With the scholarship and all?" Vanessa whispered to me
and I shook my head.
"Still didn't get it." I told her.
"It will all go well, don't worry. Listen, how about you look for a job
first? You know you don't have enough money to go anywhere—not even
South Africa." She teased and I bumped her shoulder.
"I have money, Vanessa," I told her in a serious tone, but I softened my
voice when she pursed her lips.
"Let's do this. Let's work till our bones break, for just a year or two.
Then we can save enough money for school! Don't you think it would be
better, rather than rotting in bed all day, waiting for a miracle?"
I saw sense in what she said. Though she wasn't equally unemployed as
I was, she definitely needed a stable job that wasn't under freelance. And
my parents thought of me as a pushover. I knew for sure that if I got a job
that was promising, they would or they might have helped me with funds
for my education. They weren't aware of this—that Shola sent me money
monthly with regards to my travels.
Our relationship wasn't that great as a younger sister and an older sister
duo, but she did her best as the first daughter. Ifeoluwa, my older brother,
was the devil's incarnate. He was just two years older, yet he acted like he
was my father and he was such a snob.
Thanks goodness he's far away. Idon'tthink I'llbe able to breathe well
in Abuja if my older brother is around.
The money Shola sent and my life
savings wasn't enough to leave Africa as Vanessa said. Maybe, South
Africa, maybe Dubai, but definitely not Korea. Just the thought of getting to
see the first snow, or even a tiny speck of the cherry blossoms made my
conviction strong, and I agreed to Vanessa's advice. After church, I was in a
much better mood than this morning and I went to an internet cafe to sort
out some documents.
After getting ready for bed, I sent in my résumé to different companies,
applying for office jobs. I hoped to get into any of these companies and I
prayed that night. I prayed for a miracle of some sort. I told God that I was
sorry for slacking off for two years and I was now ready for an office job, a
9-5 to be precise.
Somewhere in-between the prayer, I fell asleep and woke up on my cold
floor. My nose was blocked and I already knew my day would go bad. My
father had already gone to work—he was the headmaster of this primary
school that I forgot the name, and my mother worked as a midwife at a
clinic. Everyone in my family had a job, and I was just a clown, but my
story would change, I could feel it.
Or not.
I had no luck that week. I got rejected by five out of ten companies, and
the other five had not responded. "Maybe this is a bad idea," I told myself
after I closed my laptop and I stared into space.
"Dunni, you know what you want, right? You wanna study in Seoul,
right? And visit China and Thailand? Then don't give up!" I said out loud to
encourage myself, and I sent more résumés to more companies. Just
because I didn't get into five, didn't mean I wouldn't ever get in.
I can do this !
$$$$$$$$$$