You forcefully open the double doors to your room to see your reflection in the large spotless mirror staring at you, as you try to avoid the Master. Your image kills the mustard seed of hope you have been trying to nurture – your eyes exhausted from too many tears. Your lips are chapped, and the glory of your skin is in the past - your beautiful skin as your mother would remark. You wonder if it’s because of its fairness or the hairless sight of it, or the chubby feeling when touched. And then you reckon the eyes of your mother are not yours. Your beauty lies in your freedom, you think to yourself. You affirm that you don’t belong here, not in this castle with grey walls, lofty ceilings, and heavy brown curtains. Not viewing ancient paintings of wars. Not on a bed for a crowd and certainly not wearing these expensive clothes too pure to smear. You recall the first day of your arrival at your new home. You were greeted by a servant who avoided your eyes as he bowed his head and sai...
THE
ROADSIDE MECHANIC
My brain was never interested in school work.
Sometimes I wish I had listened to my father and many other relatives who
wanted me to have an education. I remember getting flogged constantly in school
for failing one subject or the other. I honestly tried my best but it never was
good enough. SO I TOOK TO MY FATHER’S ADVICE:
Being a mechanic like other jobs, is not easy. The curiosity
I have for it however makes it interesting and I try to improve myself every
day. I started my apprenticeship in 2005, at the age of 18. Ah! I suffered
during those years. Frequently my Oga would ask me:
“Okoro, you sure say you get head for this work? No come
waste your time here o…”
But I kept on for five years amidst all the
setbacks, insults and discouragement from many people around me then. Now I am
my own Oga!
For me, speaking and trying to convince my customers
tends to be one of the difficult aspects of my job. If something goes wrong
with a car I’ve just worked on, it makes matters even worse especially when the
owner is a woman. You know they don’t take nonsense. Sometimes I offer to
correct the mistake which might not have been my fault for free and other times
after much talking forth and back, the customer pays for the unforeseen repair.
To many people I am nothing but a roadside mechanic
and that’s fine. As long as it is not a crime and it puts food on my table,
clothes on my body and shelter over my head, I am a hero in my lane. I have been saving all these years. One
day, very soon, I hope to have my own mechanic workshop that I will call Jomiloju Nigeria LTD.
A Shared Experience
Don't forget to be honest.
Despite the odds, he was able to scale through. This days is what you can do with your hands that matters. Not your certificate. #laslasschoolnascam
ReplyDeleteSchool is not a scam. People scam themselves by going to school and focusing only on academics without adding extra value to their lives. Of course there are rich people without proper education, but a diligent educated man will beat an uneducated man any day, because his horizon has naturally been broadened by good education. I rest my case.
DeleteLol nice hashtag! We will get to that point where school or no school won't define who we truly are and what we are capable of doing.
DeleteNice story. Although it's kind of cliche, so to speak. But my question is, why would a guy whose name is okoro(an igbo name) call his company jomololu(a Yoruba name)?
ReplyDeleteHmm that's life for you. To you it's cliché to someone out there it might be an eye opener. And trust me, I have seen many Yoruba having Igbo names. Guess it's what his circle if friends call him...
DeleteOkoro is actually a nickname
Delete