Saturday, November 8, 2014


Obinna went for an interview on a Monday, two days after his birthday. It was his umpteenth interview since he completed his National Youth Service Corps program  four years ago. He’d almost given up on interviews, but this one had peculiar incentives: there was no application fee, nor was the company hearing through a ‘consulting firm’ which would likely usurp the would-be employees.
However, he did not have any high hopes whatsoever.
When it got to his turn to meet those offish interviewers, he failed the first two questions stat. In fact, he was clueless; didn’t even attempt any of the questions. The interviewers came down from their high places and encouraged him to answer just one question, and he would be good to go as it were. He sat up. This could be it, he thought waking up all his faculties.
The interview dragged up to the tenth question, but he was still unbelievably clueless. Then one of his interviewers sighed, and with an air of finality asked him:
 “How would you say you performed in this interview?”
Now, Obinna was a sincere person. I remember him well on campus.
At that point he braced himself with his elbows on the handles of the soft swivel seat he sat in, and clasping his two hands in front of him. He faced the interviewer squarely and answered:
“I did very well.”
The room exploded with laughter, but Obinna wasn’t even smiling…
He was tired of blaming himself, of self-pity, of blaming the system, of passing terrible judgments on self… He simply forgave himself.

Well, my good friend is yet to be shortlisted for the job, neither has any other applicant.

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