After Ajengule Shocker, Thomas Job-Hunts in Lagos

27 Feb After Ajengule Shocker, Thomas Job-Hunts in Lagos

Mani’s home, with metal grids across the windows and peeling paint, did not appear very different from the other rundown shanties that cluttered the streets. On the inside, however, Mani had created a comfortable place for himself. The rug in the front room was old and worn, yet it was clean. The furniture did not match, but was in good shape; Thomas found it very inviting.

“I assume I’m bunking on the sofa,” he said.

Mani tossed Thomas’s bag down on the floor in front of it. “That’s right,” he said. “I suggest you put your head at this end. There’s a hard spring sticking through the foam on the other side. I’ve tried to fix it, but it keeps popping back up.”

“After spending last night up against a concrete wall, I don’t think a little spring inside a sofa cushion will bother me much,” Thomas replied.

Mani pointed out of the window. “I took over this place from the guy who used to live over there,” he explained. “He and his wife decided to suddenly leave town.”

“Were they in a really big hurry?” Thomas asked with a knowing smile.

“Yes,” Mani answered, “but they weren’t running one step ahead of the law. She was pregnant. They had some friends living in New York, so they went to stay with them. They were told that if she gave birth on American soil, the child would be automatically granted American citizenship. I think they were hoping that the government would give them permanent residence if they had an American child. The baby should have been born about three months ago and they haven’t returned yet. If they weren’t allowed to stay there, they must have ended up going somewhere else.”

Thomas was intrigued. “That sure is a long way to go to have a baby.”

“Yeah,” Mani said. “Aside from the citizenship deal, he hoped to get good medical care for his wife and better job prospects for himself.”

“Good luck with that,” Thomas remarked. “I read in the newspapers that many American companies are sending all their factory jobs to places like India and Vietnam.”

Mani shrugged. “I heard that too. They get cheaper labour that way. Even so, Americans still need people to wash their windows, drive their taxis, and work in their restaurants. I hope it works out for them. They were nice folks, and he was willing to do anything for his wife and baby. They sold everything they could to raise enough money for the plane tickets, and left everything else behind.”

“I know the feeling,” Thomas said. “I left Moso with nothing more than what I could carry. I gave my family what little was left.”  Thomas glanced around. “How long have you owned this place?”

“Actually, I don’t own it,” Mani replied. “I rent it. The landlord owns many places like this.”

“He must be doing all right for himself.”

“I guess,” Mani responded, “but I wouldn’t want to change places with him for anything. Word has it that he spends most of his waking hours shaking people down for the rent money. You can’t blame him. He needs to be paid, after all. It’s just that most of the people around here aren’t bringing in steady incomes, and they do the best they can, but sometimes they just don’t have the cash. That’s why I make sure I pay my rent on the first of the month without fail. It keeps him happy, and it’s always good to have friends when you need them.”

Thomas laughed. He knew exactly what Mani was saying.

“My bed is in the back room,” Mani told him. “Come take a look.”

Thomas followed him to a secluded room where he kept most of his possessions. Mani had a comfortable-looking mattress on the floor with a blanket and pillow neatly piled on top. He pushed a box aside to reveal an older guitar that showed some serious wear, yet it still appeared to be well-maintained.

“I don’t like to leave it out in the open.” Mani hoisted it up onto his knee and strummed a few chords. “It’s a long way from being a top-of-the-line Les Paul, but I can’t take the chance of losing it.”

“How often do you play?” Thomas asked.

“Every chance I get. The clubs are open in town every night, and I can usually find a way to get up on stage. Most of the house bands know me by now. I’m trying to make some connections and eventually get a steady gig at one of the big hotels. They pay pretty well and they offer some nice fringe benefits. All the musicians talk about a piano player who scored a regular gig playing in the lounge at the Sheraton Tower. Not only do they pay him a great salary, but they let him live in one of the hotel rooms and eat his meals in the hotel kitchen — for free.”

“Wow!” Thomas could not hide his excitement.

“If I could nab a gig like that, I’d be able to save up enough money to record a demo and hopefully send it out to some record companies. It would be so great if I could get the attention of one of those big labels in Europe. Then maybe they’d fly me out to London or Berlin. Wouldn’t that be awesome? I would give anything to get a shot at the big time like Daddy Showkey. I swear, there isn’t much I wouldn’t do for a chance to make music for a living. I’d fly out of Ajegunle like a rocket and never come back.”

Thomas appreciated his friend’s ambition. “I know you have the talent, Mani,” he said. “I remember how you used to play for all of us at the university. When you started, there would be four of us in the room. By the time you finished your second song, about fifty people were crowding in to hear you. I really hope you get your break someday. You deserve it.”

Mani smiled broadly. “And what about you?” he pressed. “I remember how much you helped me with my studies back in those days. I probably would’ve flunk out of the university if it weren’t for you. You deserve to be on the tenure track at some prestigious place like Oxford or Yale.”

Thomas was enormously flattered, but he never pictured himself standing up in front of a packed five-hundred-seat lecture hall. For him, teaching was a much more personal experience. He loved sitting around a table with a handful of students and interacting directly with them. He didn’t know if that style of teaching would ever bring in an enormous amount of money, but perhaps he could find his fortune as a professional tutor. As it stood, Thomas was willing to accept almost any job doing almost anything an employer could ask of him. After all, every successful man had to start somewhere.

When evening came, Mani packed up his guitar to leave for the club.  He asked Thomas if he would like to join him.

“I hope you don’t mind but I think I’d rather stay here and catch up on some sleep.”

“No problem,” Mani replied. “It’s probably better if you hear my music after your head clears out. You can’t really appreciate it with all that ringing in your ears.”

Thomas smiled. Mani was right. He’d told his friend about his ears. The ringing was driving him crazy.

After he left, Thomas got comfortable on the sofa, relishing his first chance to actually sleep since he had left Moso. Exhausted as he was, he was surprised how difficult it was for him to settle down. He examined himself in a full-size mirror near the door, marvelling at how much punishment the human body could take. Thankfully, he didn’t think he’d end up with scars.  The bruises would heal, and so would his split lips.

Not a bad-looking guy, he assured himself as he lingered before his reflection. Five feet five inches tall, fair skin, slim and sleek with delicate shoulders: he felt good at thirty-eight years. Hirsute, he could afford to change his hairstyle frequently, but he had cut it close to the skin to save him the expense of an early visit to a Lagos barber.

Thomas pulled admiringly at his nose, too pointed for a black African, and returned to the sofa. Satisfied with his looks, he wondered whether Ajegunle was the right place for him to be, even though it was far more cosmopolitan and lively than his home town. Moso, nestling at the foot of the mountains north of Oyo State, was a neater, more beautiful and  peaceful place. The town was largely a farming community noted for the production of fruits and vegetables, which attracted buyers from the city all year round. Moso was one of the few towns in the area that had an electricity supply, but its water system had stopped functioning when Thomas was a child. Most homes depended on wells dug in their compounds for water.

Determined to make quick money from vegetables, many families would rather have their kids working on the farm than in the school, so Thomas was one of the few university graduates from the town. He wanted desperately to be an example of the usefulness of education to his people, and always wanted to progress in life. So living in Ajegunle was a demotion for him, and so was going back to the classroom to teach.

Thomas switched his attention to his immediate environment, listening to the sounds of the people, cars, scooters, and bikes moving by outside.

He drifted between a pleasant feeling of people wandering happily in the evening, and a fearful sensation that perhaps they were up to no good. Eventually, his mind exhausted itself, and Thomas’s eyelids closed. He slipped into the deepest sleep he had experienced in a long time.

 

á   á   á   á   á

       

“Hey! Are you all right?”

Thomas’s eyes opened to Mani standing over him. He blinked a few times. “Yeah. I guess so.” His voice sounded rough.

Mani laughed. “I just wanted to be sure. You weren’t snoring or moving. I couldn’t even tell if you were breathing. You looked like a corpse laid out in a funeral parlour.”

Thomas’s arms and legs felt leaden. When he dropped his hand to his side, it hit the sofa cushion so hard that it made a thud. “From what I can tell, I’m still in this world,” he groaned. “How did your set go tonight?”

Mani rolled his eyes. “You mean last night. It’s eight o’clock in the morning.”

“Really?” Thomas glanced around and saw the morning sun spilling through the window. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“You wouldn’t have heard a freight train if it came through here last night,” Mani countered. “The set went pretty well. I played with a band at The Downtown. I’ve jammed with them many times before. Nice guys, and they’ve got a great sound going on.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing you play.” Thomas tried to sit up, but he was still so exhausted that all he managed was a yawn.

“I’m heading off to the office,” Mani announced, “so you’re on your own. Do you think you can handle that without getting hauled off to jail or winding up in a hospital?”

“I’ll do my best,” Thomas responded with an ironic smirk. “To be honest, I’ll probably remain in this exact position for the rest of the day.”

Mani laughed as he pressed a few wrinkles out of his business shirt with the heel of his hand and then tucked it in his trousers. “I’ve been known to spend quite a few of my days off that way. There’s a little bit of food left if you get hungry. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Thanks, Mani. I promise I’ll pay you back for all your hospitality.”

 

 

á   á   á   á   á

       

Thomas spent the next three weeks combing every newspaper he could find in search of job vacancies. It was terribly depressing. The only open positions required either a higher university degree, a long list of prestigious references, and many years of experience; or were menial jobs that did not pay much. Thomas could not find anything in between. As much as he wanted a good paying job, he was willing to take a job sweeping floors or washing dishes just to earn some pocket change. He felt guilty about not being able to contribute toward the upkeep of Mani’s little house. But Mani was very understanding. He even tried to find Thomas a position at the advertising agency where he worked, but he was unsuccessful. Every employee on the staff was trying to secure jobs for their relatives and friends.

Whenever Thomas spoke to employers about working on their maintenance staff, they looked at his credentials and asked the same question: “Why is a man with a university degree applying for a job as simple as this?”

Thomas had come up with a courteous and professional answer: “I understand that job vacancies are scarce here in Lagos, and I am willing to work my way up within your company.”

He thought employers would perceive him as a humble, hard-working man, but instead they saw him as someone who would eventually become restless working below his skill level. Or, like everyone else, they were desperate to maintain their own position and did not want someone like Thomas hanging around for fear that he might eventually replace them.

Although there were times when he felt dejected and discouraged, Thomas knew he had no choice but to persevere. He continued scouring the newspapers, writing letters to companies, visiting offices, and filling out job applications. Deep in his heart, he could not bring himself to give up hope that someone would eventually be willing to give him a break. A couple of times he had come close to securing a job, but he was knocked off the shortlist because he had no experience in those fields. Hope was not a strategy to him, but it was the only thing keeping him in Lagos.

As his first month in Lagos came to an end, Thomas decided to put his employment troubles aside and accompany Mani to a club where he was playing. Mani got Thomas a table where he’d have a clear view of the stage.

“What are you drinking, my friend?” Mani asked.

Thomas shrugged. “A Seven-Up would be nice.”

Mani laughed. “You can have something a little harder, you know.”

Thomas smiled and waved him away. Mani gave the bartender Thomas’s order, and then ran over to get himself set up with the band.

It wasn’t long before the band was tuned up and ready to play. People wandered in, attracted by the soothing sound of the music. By the time the band was midway through its first set, the club was full beyond capacity. People stood three-deep at the bar, and the small dance floor was crowded with men and women moving in perfect rhythm to the bass and drums.

Thomas sat back in his chair and sipped his Seven-Up, thoroughly enjoying the sight of so many people abandoning their worries for the evening. Despite the poverty, unemployment, crime, and so many other adversities faced by the people of Ajegunle, they still knew how to fill their lives with joy. Thomas could tell from the soulful expression on Mani’s face that playing his guitar — and touching people with his talent — meant much more to him than fame or money ever could.

“It’s a shame to see such a handsome gentleman sitting all alone on a night like this.”

Thomas was startled by the female voice cooing directly into his ear.

“Would you like to have some company?” she asked.

Thomas looked over his shoulder to see an attractive woman batting her eyelashes at him. Her long hair flanked her shoulders, and was styled poker-straight like Cleopatra. She pursed her full lips at him, and her sleepy eyes seemed to beg for attention. Thomas found his own eyes drifting down to the bold display of her voluptuous body. He managed to smile back, recognising that the lady’s time and talents were both for sale. As much as he would have enjoyed her company, he could not in good conscience take advantage of a woman in such dire straits that she had to sell her physical gifts. Even if he were inclined to consider her services, he had absolutely no money with which to pay her.

“No thank you, miss,” he said, as politely as possible. “I think I’ll go stag tonight.”

“Oh, c’mon now,” she pressed. “You must be pretty lonely sitting in a club full of people with no one to talk to. I can offer you some scintillating conversation — and so much more.” She tugged at the collar of her blouse just enough to reveal some deeply hidden cleavage.

“Actually, I just came to hear my friend play with the band,” Thomas insisted.

“Your friend is in the band?” she asked. “Which one is he?”

Thomas pointed. “That’s my friend, Mani,” he said. “We went to school together. I’m staying with him for a while.”

The woman looked over at Mani and then back at Thomas. She stared at his face for an intense moment, which made him feel extremely uncomfortable. He could not help but stare back, stunned by the fact that she was hauntingly familiar. He had seen her somewhere before, but he’d be damned if he could recall exactly where. Her expression suddenly changed from sultry to surprised.

“Thomas?” the woman finally gasped. “Thomas Katta?”

“Yes?” he answered cautiously.

The woman turned on her heels and darted across the club. Thomas spun his head around just in time to catch sight of her weaving through the crowd until she vanished through the front entrance.

Who was she?

Thomas sat back, bit his lip, and wracked his brain trying to remember the familiar yet mysterious woman. He had to have known her. And she obviously knew him.

When the band took a break, Thomas asked Mani about her.

“Do you mean the one with the Cleopatra hair and the great…?” Mani cupped his hands in front of his chest.

“Yeah,” Thomas said. “She knew my name.”

“I’m surprised she remembered you after all this time,” Mani commented.

“Apparently she did.”

“And you didn’t remember her?”

Thomas shrugged, completely baffled. “I can’t place her.”

Mani rummaged through his guitar case for extra picks. “Do you remember that girl we studied with at high school who wanted to be a paediatrician?”

Thomas furrowed his brow.

“She was the one you always wanted to ask out, but you never managed to call up enough courage to do it,” Mani stated.

Thomas thought for another moment. In an instant the vision of the young, attractive studious woman flashed before his eyes. “Nancy? I can’t believe it! That was Nancy Ojo!”

“Now your memory is working again.”

“What in the world is an intelligent woman like her doing selling herself like that?”

Mani stuck the extra picks into his microphone stand. “She’s doing the same thing so many other folks are doing in Ajegunle,” he replied matter-of-factly. “She’s trying to earn a living.”

“I’ll see you back at the house.” Thomas headed quickly for the door.

“Where are you going?” Mani called after him.

“I have to find Nancy!”

He burst out of the club onto the crowded street, eyes darting in all directions. He noticed two women soliciting men, who turned them down. With nothing to lose he approached them.

“Good evening, ladies.” He tried to sound as respectful as possible. “I wonder if you could help me with something.”

One of the women rubbed up against his shoulder. “I’m sure we could help you with a lot of things,” she purred, “at least I could anyway.”

The other woman stood back and waited with a sceptical expression, as if she had already sensed that he would be a waste of her time.

“Do you know a woman named Nancy?” Thomas asked them.

The women looked at each other.

“We can be whoever you want us to be,” the first woman assured him.

Thomas shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. I ran into a woman in the club named Nancy. She was…well…a working girl. I really need to find her.”

The second woman stood firm. “Are you a cop?” she asked sternly.

Thomas let out a frustrated sigh. “Hardly.”

The first woman was determined to work for a score. “What’s that Nancy girl got that we ain’t got?” she cooed.

Thomas was growing frazzled, and he did not have time to play games. “Please,” he begged. “She has long, straight hair and big brown eyes. Do you know her? Have you seen anyone who looks like that around here?”

The second woman stepped forward. “Maybe we have and maybe we haven’t,” she sneered. “How much can you offer to find out which one it is?”

“I have no money,” he confessed. “I was hoping that out of the goodness of your hearts, you’d extend me a little charity.”

The second woman let out a sarcastic laugh. “This is Lagos!” she declared. “Even charity doesn’t come for free.”

But the sight of Nancy had stirred up a mysterious feeling that Thomas could not comprehend. He walked back to Mani’s, oblivious to the dangers lurking in the shadows, a man possessed more by the pleasing memories of the past than by the dangers of the present.