Dancing Against The Storm: A Dance We All Should Learn

Like most people, I had the mentality that after I graduated from school, everything was going to be smooth; I would get a nice job, get married after two years, have my own house, and have a good business.

I can still remember what my final examination was like, the sun was barely risen, the weather was calm, the air was fresh and chilly.

A mixture of curiosity and joy overwhelmed my heart as I wrote the exams. It was like I was entering into another realm and season. I just wanted to see what it looks like to be done with college.

I eventually finished and stepped outside the hall. I received a lot of congratulations from people on my way out.

Students were everywhere outside with white t-shirts and people were writing their names and signatures on them as a sign of congratulations and good wishes.

The sight was beautiful, seeing people smiling, shouting, and screaming for joy. It was a journey worth celebrating.

A few months later, life began hitting hard. I have become a man, I need to start supporting the family, and also start taking care of my bills.

Sometimes when little things like Maggie or salt are finished in the house, my mother would teasingly say, “Hey, Mr graduate, we are running out of stock.”

Most times, I laugh over it, but deep down, it was sending a message. Before the year ran out, I applied for a few government jobs, Nigeria police, Nigeria Navy, Nigeria Custom service.

My result was good, so I was confident that I would be shortlisted for either of them. Sadly, when the lists were out, my name was not on any.

I was disappointed and devastated. When I told my mother about it, she said, “Don't give up, keep trying.”

I still applied the second time, and the same story. My friends were getting jobs, getting established, and I used to see on social media how some of my mates were advancing and achieving their dreams, but here I am, still at home and not making any progress.

Sometimes in the night, I don't sleep, I sit at the edge of my bed with my hand on the cheek, asking myself rhetorical questions, “What is happening to me? What did I do wrong?”

Depression gradually started coming, my mother noticed it when I began to lock myself often in the room. Most times she would come in, encourage me, and pray for me before she leaves, but all that doesn't make sense to me. Because I was already giving up.

I felt like I was supposed to be great; things were supposed to be easy for me because I went to school and graduated as one of the best students in my department but here I am stuck in one place.

One Saturday, I went to a musical concert at one of the churches in my town. On my way out, when everything was done, I saw this guy. The body size and height were new, but the face was familiar.

I already walked past, but I decided to come back. “Good evening,” I extended a handshake, “Peter, right?” I hesitated.

He took off his transparent eye glass and screamed, “Emreal!” jumping on my body.

“How have you been?” I asked,

“Fine, brother.”

“What is the secret? You look great and new,” I complimented.

“Thank man, it's actually God,” he replied.

“Yeah, I understand. Where are you working now?” I asked out of curiosity.

“I am a teacher,” he replied.

Wow, “with the government right?”

“Well, no, I teach in Salvation Academy, a private school here in town," he answered.

The joy on my face disappeared instantly, I smiled faintly, “ok, that's beautiful.”

“How about you?” He asked.

“Man, I just applied for the police. I am waiting for a shortlist next month.”

“That's good, just that government jobs are hard to get. I feel it's best to get our hands doing something while we hope for better days,” he responded.

That sounded harsh to me because all I wanted was to hear sweet things that would conform to my desire.

“Yeah, that's true,” I replied and quickly changed the topic, “so how is life with you?”

“Fine,” he answered.

We talked for some time, and I left after we exchanged phone numbers.

Peter was my classmate in junior secondary school. We were quite cool and had a good relationship before he was transferred to another school.

I waited for the police shortlist again, and I was disappointed. This time around, I was so broken that I hated everything around me.

In the evening, that same day, after checking the shortlist, I was in the room, a loud music was playing in the background, as I cried, feeling bad for myself, when my mother began knocking hard on the door.

I ignored her for some moments, but she wouldn't go, so I conceded defeat and opened the door.

“Good evening, ma,” I greet, dodging direct eye contact because my face was swollen.

“Evening, may I come in?” She asked.

While I was still delaying my response, she made a step inside.

Ah, ah, “Emreal, look at your room? When was the last time you tidied this room?” She asked, looking at him.

I didn't realize the room was so messed up until she spoke. I looked around, and my clothes were lying on the bed, floor, and my table. The plate I ate for about two days was there with tiny flies moving inside, and books were scattered across the room.

I didn't say a word, I quietly sat on the bed, and she did the same.

“Emreal, I understand what you are going through. Life can be so difficult at times, but those who don't give up emerge as winners. You don't need to start big; if government jobs are not forthcoming, go for the ones available.

Those who win in life are those who learn how to dance against the storm. Forget about what is happening and start small. Start building yourself from the little at your disposal; with time, a better opportunity will come. Sitting here and allowing the storm of life to weigh you down is not the right idea.”

She said many other things, and I was comforted. When she left, I first tidied up my room and decided that whatever life brings across, I'll be ready to face it.

It was barely a week after school resumed, and I wrote applications and dropped in a few schools, but unfortunately, they didn't call me, and time was going by.

So, I called Peter and asked if there was a vacancy where he works. He said he wasn't sure, but he will get back to me.

Five days passed, and I didn't hear from him. So, I concluded that teaching was not going to favour me, so I would look for the post of a salesboy in any shop in the market.

On Saturday, that same week, Peter called and asked me to meet him with my credentials, both original and photocopies, on Monday.

The joy I had was immense. I first broke the news to my mother, she was so happy, and hugged me many times like I had won a lottery.

On Monday, I did as Peter asked, we met, and he took me to the school where he taught, and I was given a job.

I haven't gotten a job with the government to date, but I am happy with the man I have become. I am out creating opportunities for myself and I can support my family and provide for myself. This is nothing close to my dreams yet, but I am glad I made that decision to step out of my comfort zone.

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N.B: All Images Were Generated By Meta AI

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