For as long as Muby could remember, he had wanted to work in a corporate office. He wanted to work in those office buildings with glass walls, shiny floors, air conditioning cold enough to preserve a body, and employees who walked around holding laptops with their tailor made suits. To Muby, corporate life represented success. He imagined himself wearing well tailored suits, carrying a leather briefcase, attending important meetings and sipping coffee while discussing matters worth millions of naira. He would leave home every morning looking like a man with a purpose, looking like a successful man.
Whenever he saw people stepping out of expensive office buildings, he would watch them with admiration. He wanted that life more than anything and for years, he worked towards it. He acquired the necessary qualifications, improved his communication skills and applied for countless positions. Rejection became so familiar that he could probably have written a manual titled “How to Receive a Rejection Email Without Losing Your Mind”.
Then, one Monday morning, he woke up to a blissful email. He received an offer from a prestigious company in the heart of the city. The salary was attractive, the benefits were impressive, and the office was exactly what he had imagined. When he walked through the glass doors on his first day, he felt as though he had finally entered the life he had spent years dreaming about. He got emotional right there and then but he had to keep his composure.
He took pictures of the building, sent them to his friends and updated his social media profile. His family was proud, even people who had barely spoken to him before suddenly remembered his existence. Muby was over the moon.
"This is just the beginning," he told himself as he adjusted his tie in the office bathroom mirror.
If only he had known what he was laughing about. The first few weeks were wonderful. He admired the organised environment, the formal meetings and the general atmosphere of professionalism. Everyone seemed busy, important and determined. He felt proud to be part of an organisation whose name carried weight. Then the cracks began to appear.
His supervisor started sending emails late at night, expecting responses before sunrise. Tasks that were supposed to be completed within a week suddenly became urgent overnight. Employees were expected to remain available long after working hours, and anyone who complained was quickly labelled as lacking commitment and eventually dismissed.
Muby initially accepted everything.
"This is how corporate life works," he told himself. "You have to pay your dues.". “ This is just a learning curve, im sure top corporate gurus also started like this”
When he stayed late, he reminded himself that successful people made sacrifices. When he missed family gatherings because of work, he said it was temporary. When his supervisor criticised him publicly for a mistake that wasn't his fault, he swallowed his pride and moved on. After all, he had worked too hard to get there. He wasn't going to abandon his dream because of a few difficulties.
But the difficulties were not a few, the office slowly became a place of constant anxiety. His colleagues smiled at one another during meetings but competed viciously behind closed doors. Credit for good work was eagerly claimed, while responsibility for mistakes was passed around like a hot potato. Management spoke endlessly about teamwork, yet everyone seemed terrified of helping the wrong person.
Muby learnt to be careful about what he said, who he trusted and even how he expressed himself. A simple question could be interpreted as incompetence. It was like he was walking(working ) on eggshells every single day. The craziest part was that the company still looked perfect from the outside.
Visitors were welcomed with smiles and the reception area was spotless. The company posted motivational messages online about employee wellbeing, work life balance and the importance of building a supportive workplace. Muby sometimes looked at those posts from his desk and wondered whether the person who wrote them had ever actually worked there.
Months passed, and the excitement he once felt disappeared. Sunday evenings became unbearable because they reminded him that Monday was approaching. He began waking up tired, even after sleeping for hours. His favourite activities no longer brought him the same enjoyment and the passion he once had, had long dissipated.
One evening, after another humiliating encounter with his supervisor, Muby sat alone in his parked car outside his apartment. He didn't immediately get out, he simply sat there, staring at the steering wheel, wondering how the job he had prayed so hard for had become something he dreaded so much. He remembered the younger version of himself who had admired corporate workers from a distance. That young man had imagined the suits, the offices and the salary. He had never imagined the fear, the exhaustion or the feeling of slowly losing himself to a place that would replace him without hesitation.
WHAT EXACTLY WAS HE TRYING SO HARD TO PROVE, AND TO WHOM?
The truth was that he could no longer justify sacrificing his peace simply because the job looked impressive to other people. The following weeks were difficult. He reviewed his finances, updated his CV and began applying elsewhere. Leaving a prestigious position frightened him. He worried about what people would say, how his family might react and whether he would find another opportunity.
Part of him still wanted to endure it. After all, leaving would mean admitting that the dream he had chased for years was not what he had expected and he should be grateful because a lot people were still even looking for a job and couldn’t even get one but eventually, Muby understood that changing his mind was not the same as failing.
One Friday afternoon, he submitted his resignation. His supervisor was surprised, some colleagues advised him to reconsider. Others quietly admitted that they understood his decision but lacked the courage to make the same choice. Muby walked out of the building carrying his belongings in a cardboard box. There was no dramatic farewell, no applause and certainly no background music celebrating his freedom. There was only the afternoon sun, the noise of traffic and an unfamiliar feeling of relief.
He did not immediately find another job. There were uncertain weeks, difficult, but gradually, he began to feel like himself again. Eventually, he found another opportunity in a healthier working environment. It was not as glamorous, and the office was certainly not the sort of place that made people stop and stare but he could do his work, learn, grow and return home without feeling as though he had left a piece of himself behind.
The truth was that a job could impress everyone around you while quietly making you miserable. He still believed in ambition, he still wanted to grow, earn well and build a successful career but he no longer believed that achieving those things required him to sacrifice his wellbeing.
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