Johnny Just Come

It really felt different when I moved into the city a couple of years back. There was the semblance between the landscapes I saw in movies back home in Lagos and the skyline of downtown Calgary. The drive from the airport was some sort of Deja vu, a reconstruction of the images that had flashed in my mind many times over. Here we were, driving through the well lined streets, the wide open spaces and the multiple car lanes like those of German Autobahns, the feeling can’t be described in a paragraph. For me, this was the culmination of a lifelong desire to immigrate to a Country that had all the bells and whistles because the externals resonated with assumptions of what a Western Country should look like.

My first interview went fast as I got a call to show up the same day that I applied for the job. Can you imagine the new guy on the block who just came into the country, had been searching for jobs but none had worked out as I had imagined but then picked up a free magazine, flipped to the classified section and saw a job advert that looked promising. When I got the call the same day that I applied for the job, I felt ecstatic, partly thinking that this was finally my moment, I couldn’t be happier.

Trust now, I had my suit on, shined my shoes and made sure my hair was well groomed. I got to the interview like 40 minutes before time as I could not afford to let anything go wrong. I was ushered to sit in a small hall with about 25 chairs, waiting to be called for the real show. Soon after I was seated, other people started to trickle in and I began to get iffy about the number of interviewees coming in.

At a point I felt like I was in the wrong place and I had to ask a staff who was standing by to confirm that there was going to be an interview for real. Anyways, a lady who seemed to call the shot started to call people by name to an office that was right in front of the sitting area.  Each person came out with a paper which eventually turned out to be an offer letter. To my chagrin, I was called and the interview did not last 10 minutes and I was given an offer letter. Wouldn’t you ask what the job offer was? I was being recruited to sell knives. I mean, to sell knives to who? I was new in the country, cash was limited, I was somewhat desperate to work to earn money and someone was going to send me on a wild goose chase to market knives and earn stipends from commission. This couldn’t have exacerbated my frustration any further if you know what I mean. That was my first real experience as a new immigrant looking for work in far away Canada.

Story by JJC