It was 2019, I heard my mom call out to me from the living room, “Demola, demola. I have something to tell you: ” I just finished my National Diploma studies in Public Administration. I have been home ever since, doing nothing but eating and sleeping. I went out of my room to the living room to say hi to her and answer her call, then she started.
“Do you know Daddy Kunle? The chairman of the Eyita community,” sure, I did. Who wouldn’t know one of the richest men in the community and also the chairman of the community where they lived? She went on, “He saw me today, and we spoke; he then requested that you come see him at home." At first, I was confused about what he wanted to see me for. Although I was a close friend to his son since we were best friends, his son wasn’t back from the university, and I haven’t paid much attention to his parents. I didn’t want to think much about it, so I dressed up and headed towards the chairman's house.
I got to his place, and he welcomed me with open arms. He asked me to sit down, which I did. He then started, “Demola, I have been observing you, and I know you to be a good lad. I want you to help me manage my truck company. You would resume at 9 a.m. and close anytime you think it's closing time for you. Will you help me?”
After he was done explaining what the job entails and what I am going to benefit from it, I realized it wasn’t me helping him; he was the one helping me. With immediate effect, I accepted the deal, and I became the manager of the company the following week.
For the first two weeks, he went with me to the company as he showed me around and I met with his partners, the workers, and security. I started managing the place fully the third week, and it was fun. The workers were nice; they were mostly drivers who drove the truck to the partnering company to pick up their goods, and they pay us for using our trucks.
I have been managing the company for a month without any issues or truck issues, but that early Wednesday morning, while I was eating and preparing to head out to work, my phone rang, and it was one of the truck drivers calling. He said to me, “Good morning, sir. My truck is having issues. The gear bolt was just removed, and it was because the nut had worn out. So, sir, I need 24 bolts and nuts."I said okay, then called the chairman to make the report, which he approved. I took some money out to purchase what the driver requested.
I have never faced a problem like this, but with the shop description given to me by the chairman, I believed nothing could go wrong. After I got to the shop, a novice like me who wanted to get 24 bolts and nuts met with a novice attendant who just resumed his work two weeks ago. I met with the attendant and I asked him to give me 24 bolts and nuts, which indicate a size 24 bolt and nut, but we both didn’t understand what that meant. He walked into the shop and brought out a lot of nuts and bolts, then asked me to pick the one I wanted.
At that time, I was confused. Was this how it was done? I thought to myself, I looked at him, and he looked away, pretending to be busy with what he was doing. I didn’t want him to think I didn't know what I was doing, so I began to run my hands throw the nuts and bolts. He was there watching me with his side eyes, checking to see if I was done, while I was praying for an expert to come save me. I wouldn’t want to take the wrong thing back to the company and embarrass myself in front of the driver and mechanic. Luckily for me, his boss came at that time to save the day. When he walked in and saw what I was doing, he asked what I was looking for, and I told him. It was the wrong thing the attendant brought for me. The owner of the shop brought out a size 24 bolt and nut. I made the payment and was saved from embarrassment.