My name is Ifeoma and for two years I thought I was a boss.
Let me explain.
After my NYSC, I got a job with a big cosmetics company in Lagos. Or so I thought. My friend Toke introduced me. She said, "Ifeoma, leave that your 80k job search, come and be your own boss. This company pays in dollars."
The office was in Lekki, fine AC, fine girls wearing wigs, clapping, shouting "Boss lady!" Everybody was posting on WhatsApp status - "Another alert! Thank you CEO!"
Toke told me to pay 150k to register. I borrowed 100k from my brother, added my 50k savings. They gave me a box of lip gloss and face cream to sell. They said if I bring three people, I will become Silver Manager. If those three bring three each, I will become Gold Director and earn 500k monthly.
I started. I called my cousins, my church members, my old classmates. I was posting every day, "Join my team, be financially free!" I was wearing blazer inside hot Lagos, carrying iPad that was not even mine.
For 8 months, I did not sell up to 10 creams. But I was still posting "Rude awakening? No, soft life!"
My family thought I was doing well because of my fine pictures. My mother would call, "My daughter that is doing big business in Lekki." I could not tell her I was trekking from Jakande to Lekki because I had no transport fare.
Then last month, we had big seminar. The CEO, a young boy of 24 with GLK, came and said, "This month, one of you will win Dubai trip!" Everybody shouted.
I believed. I went home and borrowed another 50k to buy more products to qualify for Dubai.
That night, I went to Toke's house to show her my new target board. Her door was open. She was on phone, speaking loudly. I heard her say:
"That Ifeoma is mumu sha. She don bring 7 people already, I don collect my commission finish. Once she tire, she go leave like others. Na so we dey do am."
I froze.
She continued, "Which Dubai trip? CEO never even go Dubai himself, na Photoshop. Make she dey dream."
My legs shook.
I entered. Toke saw me and dropped phone. She said, "Ifeoma, you... when did you..."
I did not shout. I just said, "So for two years, you knew there was no salary? You knew I was trekking, borrowing, lying to my mother, and you were collecting commission on my head?"
She started crying fake tears. "I was also deceived..."
That was my rude awakening. Not that the business was fake. But that my own friend was using my hope to feed herself.
I walked from her house to the bus stop that night. No money for keke. I was wearing my "Boss Lady" blazer, but inside, I was empty.
I got home by 11pm. My brother asked, "Big girl, how was Dubai meeting?" I removed my blazer and told him everything.
He did not laugh. He said, "Ifeoma, you wanted soft life without work. That is why you fell."
He was right.
The next morning, I woke up by 5am. I removed all my "CEO" posts from WhatsApp. I carried my CV and went to Yaba to submit for that 90k secretary job I had rejected two years ago because I thought I was too big.
The HR lady looked at me and said, "You are overqualified for this, but we can start you as trainee."
I said, "I will take it."
For the first time in two years, I earned real money that was not from borrowing or commission. 90k. Small, but real.
My rude awakening was not that I failed. It was that I chose fake packaging over real growth.
Now when I see "Be your own boss" ad on Instagram, I just scroll.
I have woken up.
IMAGE SOURCE AI
Prompt: The Inkwell Combined Writing Prompt #53 - Rude Awakening
Genre: Fiction - Urban / Life Lesson