ALL THAT GLITTERS…. (2)
The clique, as Tayo called his group of friends, appeared to embody everything that I first thought was exciting and impressive. They were successful in their various careers and seemed to be heading at jet speed for the number one seats in their different organizations. If the media narrative then was anything to go by, they seemed to have the Midas touch as a group; it was said that two of the members, one in the sales and distribution department of a consumer goods manufacturing company and the other in the marketing department of a popular tech company, both became overnight sensations once they joined the clique. These two men had been labouring for years in obscurity and mediocrity in their companies but after joining up with Tayo and co, they became overachievers and very loudly attributed their success to their new group of friends who they said had motivated them and taught them the ropes.
The media loved this group of young men and every week, articles about their stylish dressing, their sensational corporate achievements, cars, lavish parties and world tours were splashed on the pages of magazines and took minutes in entertainment broadcasts. They seemed full natural charm and confidence and had a certain Alpha male aura that oozed success, confidence and power.
I was dazzled by their lifestyle. Exclusive parties, private lounges, and trips to exotic destinations seemed like things that were worth putting in my wish cart. I really wanted to be part of their world … until I got to know them … because as I spent more time with them, the veneer of success soon began to crack.
I think my first pointer that all was not right was the lavish lifestyle, the very expensive bottles of wine and spirits that were downed like water. Not being much of a drinker, I believe I already stood out as a sore thumb but I soon began to question the seemingly inexhaustible purses of these young men. How could they keep up with their lavish lifestyle, I pondered. With careful questions and observation, I realised that the boy wonders were systematically defrauding their various organisations and they were not just using drugs but selling it albeit to only select top ranking corporate chiefs, military bosses and politicians.
I wanted out very badly but I knew that I had to be very careful since I already knew their carefully guarded secrets. I knew that the only way to opt out and be safe was to make them realise that I posed no threat to their group and activities. All thoughts of being a hero and reporting them to the security agencies were quashed at birth; they had friends and clients in those very top echelons. I knew they would run me out of town or out of this world if I dared open my mouth indiscriminately. I just prayed that the walls would close in on them eventually; karma always comes through.
I started my exit by making sure that I was never seen with them anymore. Whenever they planned an outing, I would find a way to take myself out of town. I took on almost all the travelling assignments in my unit, much to the amazement and joy of my junior colleagues. I told them that I needed a firsthand experience with all our locations nationwide but the real reason was that I was putting distance between me and the Clique. Tayo confronted me many times. He told me that being absent from their meet-ups was not in tandem with building team spirit. He talked about how difficult it was to be accepted by the group and how I only got in because of he put in a word for me based on his uncle’s persistent pleas. In other words, I was playing with an opportunity that others would kill to have. Each time, I would calm him down and promise to be available for the next meet-up but I never did. I was with them for a little less than six months but it took me two years to completely stage my exit.
They no longer called me to join them and they knew that I had not talked about them to anyone so I guess they felt comfortable to let me go. Sometime, much later, I met Leke, a part of the Clique, the one in Tech and he told me that he wished he had the guts to do what I had done.
I looked at him in pretended confusion.
“Come on, Ibe!” He said, smiling sadly. “We are not kids. You came and saw the Clique but didn’t want to be a part of all the shenanigans and you eased off. Very clever! I wish I knew you before I knew them.”
“What are you talking about?” I responded, keeping up the pretence. “It is my regret that work pressure has not allowed me to associate with a group that I admire and respect.”
Leke laughed but said nothing more.
I believe that he may have tried to break free shortly after that encounter; it wasn’t long before I read that he was involved in a car accident and died before he could get help.
Looking back, I was grateful for the lessons the experience had taught me. I saw firsthand the pitfalls of chasing success at all costs and I believe I came out stronger for it. I also realised that who you associate with can make or mar you and it is important always to look beyond the glitter because all that glitters is not gold.
Cheers!
Fatherhood with Ibe
A SUDDEN AND PAINFUL DEVELOPMENT (2)
I am not sure when my wife, Betty’s Alzheimer illness first manifested. I took note of the subtle signs sometime in 2019, shortly after I was diagnosed of prostrate ailment and told that I needed to undergo a surgery. Thinking of it, she was fine till then. She travelled on her own to join me in the USA to await the surgery.
My first observation was that she was a step or two slower in her walk and she repeated conversations.
“Are you still tired from the journey?” I asked her in the wee hours of the morning, when she seemed a bit more befuddled than she usually was following a jet lag.
“No!” She replied, and after a short silence, she asked, “but why do you have to go for surgery?”
I frowned.
“I already explained that to you three times since you arrived two nights ago.” I replied, fighting hard to hold down my exasperation.
“Oh, you did? Okay, remind me please.” She said calmly.
I kept mum for half a minute and then went through the detailed analysis again. Afterwards, I told her to go back to sleep because I assumed that she had a bad dose of jet lag. She agreed with me and told me that she felt quite tired and could do with an extra hour of sleep. I nodded, put off the lights and smiled because I was sure there was no way she would wake up in one hour seeing how tired she looked. But in less than five minutes, before she slept off, she called out to me.
“Did you say you have to go through surgery?”
Now she had my full attention. I sat up in bed and through the distance of the darkened room, I stared at her.
“Are you sure you are okay, love?” I asked turning the lights on.
“Yes, I am. Why?” She asked me, sitting up.
“Because you just asked me the same question about the surgery… again!” I explained, in a subdued yell.
“I think I am just trying to understand and be sure you have considered it well,” she replied and lay back again.
That was typical Betty. She would find logic in an illogical answer and move on bravely. In many ways her bravery and ability to dismiss her situation as normal has been my source of strength in paddling through the challenges that continue to grow with her state.
Back to that moment, she soon turned around and fell asleep but I remained awake and laboured through what was left of the night. Before I finally found some sleep, I remember making a mental note to make sure she went for a check up the very next day in the US and to be brave and send her home to Nigeria immediately after. I didn’t think she was in a state to watch me go through the surgery.
She resisted going in for the medical check up for a few days and when it was carried out eventually, nothing unusual was diagnosed. However, I still convinced her to return to Nigeria to hold the forte at home.
“I want to be here for your surgery,” she insisted.
“I am not sure I will still go in for the surgery. I want to research into it some more.” I lied.
“What did they say the surgery was for?” She asked, looking confused again.
“Just for good health and general wellbeing.” I joked.
“So you will now do it next week?” She asked for clarity.
“No! I will cancel it.” I said.
I hoped that she would relax and feel better once the anxiety of the surgery was not on her mind besides, there was that niggling worry that anything could happen – the surgery could go south. I didn’t want her to have to deal with that first hand.
I put her on the plane the next day after talking to our kids Nkem, Emeka and Uche about my observations and asking them to keep an eye on her.
I had the surgery three days later and it was successful.
Thinking about it now, those were the early signals but the roots had long been sown in her genetics and history… a pattern in her family tree compounded with painful losses of loved ones. Life’s journey!!
It is 4am now and I am watching her sleeping peacefully after waking me up thrice to show her the way to the bathroom that she has used so many times in so many years. For me, of course, the sleep is gone so here I am her putting my thoughts on paper and hoping that sharing these thoughts will help put things in perspective for my family and I, and also help someone else who may be having similar challenges and trying to make sense of it.
So long!