Ruminations of a 9japreneur – A contract gone bad

I buried my face in my hands best imagining the scenario that would likely follow this setback. Surely, oga doesn’t care to know about the ripple effects of his ignorant driven action with greed and arrogance written all over. My mind replayed events of the last few hours moving through the present to the foreseeable future…

Earlier…
In just 5 minutes, it was over! To sum up his argument, he wasn’t convinced by the work I’d done. I needed to do more. He wasn’t going to discuss my money. In fact, to use his exact words, “he was on the throne now…He wasn’t the one who signed the agreement with me”. It didn’t matter that the contract was signed in the name of the organization which he now heads and by his predecessor who’d served in that capacity for a few years with impeccable records. Nor did it matter that the project had been regularly vetted throughout its implementation phase and accredited afterwards. Hear him, “I had to go back to the drawing board or nothing…whatever effort I’d expended, it wasn’t his fault…”. That was it! The meeting was over! 11 hours in waiting to see oga. 11 hours that best seemed understandable in view of what I’d envisaged would be a good meeting. One which I’d thought would be encouraging enough: where a sane mature oga would give kudos to a young start-up for his creativity and even more, for daring to go this career path as against the more comfortable path of paid employment. Furthermore, I’d even foreseen oga being emotionally moved to signing off on my financial rewards without delay upon hearing how much I’d incured and endured in personal expenses just to deliver on d project. In short, I was upbeat about the outcome of the meeting. The ever optimistic me, I even managed to find fun in the long delay, smiling and laughing quietly with an aura of confidence as other waiting visitors either murmured or complained openly about the tiring condition. Some drifted off into naps as the hours went by. At one point though, I turned to my third screen in frustration, navigated to facebook and posted a comment on my wall, “…I hope there’s a book out there that’s wholly dedicated to the subject of what it takes to do business in 9ja”! Overall, my patience had the better of me as I’d been there many times in the course of my entrepreneurial exploits knowing how well it mattered when dealing with so-called big men. Then, one by one, I watched some go in before me only to come out frowning and cursing under their breaths at the probable negative outcomes of their meetings. Hmm…I remained positive reeling out the affirmation, “one man’s devil was another’s angel”. Plus, our cases were different going by our brief conversations. They were bidding for a new job while I was winding down a completed job. How wrong I was! Better still, how delusional I must have been. For, in the minutes that followed my brief introduction, the misconceptions cleared up as oga, words after words hit hard on me tearing my hopes to shreds.
By the time he dismissed me, it took all the courage I could muster to express my appreciation for his time before heading out knowing at the back of my mind, I was walking out for good. Personal as my experience was, it painted a microcosm of the big picture that’s characteristic of the Nigerian business climate. When government changes overnight, some suffer or to put it better, some families, friends and contractors cry. Thus, I joined the list of contractors who have had their hopes shattered and investments amount to naught by a single shake-up at the top especially in public agencies. From local to federal level, the situation is prevalent. This was surely beyond my control as I’d done all that was within my capacity. I once heard, when in business, play by the practical rules of your environment and I’d simply abided by these unmentioned but thriving rules of the game. The kind of rules that you won’t find in the Civil Service publications on ethics nor in bestselling literatures on business. From monitoring my file from the tables of nosy secretaries through intermediate underbosses, PAs and eventually to the olori (overall oga), it’d been with an attitude of humility, informal arrangements for percentage cuts not to mention the material hand outs on a regular basis. To sum up the whole, I’d ‘followed up’. And now, out of the blue, a change of guards at the top and it’s back to square one!

The Future…
Ekaette, my longsuffering heartthrob. At the back of my mind, I know the game is surely up as there’s little chance of her holding out for yet more time to set my career back on track and thus, walk her down the marital path she so badly desires. No more second chance: not anymore! Not with the impending pressure from her family and friends further complicating the psychological effects of a ticking body clock which had formed the basis for her nagging. No longer would she buy into my philosophical talks about avoiding stereotypes, maintaining a good self-esteem, praises of her beauty and all. It’d be like playing Lakunle in the famed literature ‘Lion and the Jewel’ by Professor Wole Soyinka.
Bisi, my assistant of 6 months whom I’d employed in the face of the enormous task that came with the project. Promises of salaries gone unpaid hinged on the payout now dashed. What could I possibly tell her? Anything other than her money and she’d likely remark that she had not set out to join an NGO or charity organization when she made up her mind to seek employment pending when her university admission comes through. And of course, not before raining insults on me in expression of her rage.
And what about the repercussions to follow the soon-to-be cases of bouncing cheques already handed out to the a number of people? [Deep sighs]…

The Present…
In the end, I’m left to me to ponder through my travails, dreams and unfolding reality all by myself. Little wonder, the truism that when one succeeds, many flock around to jollificate but when it’s the other way round, one’s best left to rue his situation alone.

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