I Beg To Apply

I beg to apply.

That was the opening line of my first series of application letters I sent out upon leaving school in 2005. Thinking back now, I shouldn’t have begged.

It’s upsetting the way employers treat their staff. Everything said or done is with the tone of condescension. Just because I begged to apply.

You may say I’m being ungrateful. These were the people who gave you a chance to shine, grow and strut your stuff, ‘rolling my eyes in disdain’. They may have done all that but it doesn’t mean I should forever be reminded of it or play the benevolent slave – just because …

I’m upset and tired.

Tired of being made to look like a fool. I am intelligent; I might not have graduated with a First Class like all the pompous private university snubs they treat like descendants from heaven and are handled with kid gloves; but I know stuff. I won’t bore you with the woes surrounding my descent to a second class cos everyone has a story, but I digress.

Just because I chose to ‘beg’ to apply doesn’t mean I must remain in a subservient state forever? Or does it?

The average employer derives some level of joy from talking down at you, making you feel less than significant, or just downright humiliating before your peers. You can’t really hold it against them cos as my mum says ‘Who begged you to apply? If you can’t take it, quit.’

It’s easier said than done. Trust me, I speak from experience. Have you ever been so mad that you have walked to your desk, typed out your resignation letter and just before you print it, the blinding rage stops and reason kicks in. the voice of reason kicks in and begins to reel out to you the consequences of your rash action. Questions like

- How would you fuel your car?
- How long can you survive on your savings?
- What would your family say?
- What would you do till you found another job?
- What if this is it and you never find another job?

The list is endless. But the fear gets you in the end.

I have never been livid with such blinding rage nor gotten to the point described above, but I have friends and colleagues who have. One friend actually defied the voice of reason and went on to resign. Her outcome is another story.

I am upset. Upset that I am more afraid of the consequences of my decision to stay, than the long term outcome of the bitterness and anger that festers in my heart – my blood pressure mounts daily yet I bite down hard and swallow.

Why am I such a coward?

The truth is, there are no perfect jobs, bosses or colleagues; whatever you are running from, might just be waiting for you at the next job you take up. It might even be worse, you just never know. (Voice of reason)

But when it comes to office working conditions, ‘May The Odds Ever Be In Your Favor’ (I borrow from Hunger Games).

Looking back, I wish I didn’t beg to apply. Who knows if I had boldly applied I wouldn’t be ranting right now.

If I beg to resign would they beg me to stay?

I wonder?

PRETEND MUCH?

Change: a word loosely used. I’ve known my share of manipulators and sweet tongues and observed that they can hardly make any sentence without featuring “change” in their vocabulary.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all up for change but what riles me the most is when it’s used in the pursuit of selfish motives and personal agenda.



I saw a display image once on a blackberry phone (image above) and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. The irony is as funny as that picture was, it only spoke the truth. How many times have we unconsciously tried to manipulate, or the most acceptable term, change someone to suit the idea of who they are supposed to be in our heads?

“She’s too short” so talk her in to wearing heels even though she’s uncomfortable with it; or you are short and you stop her wearing heels just because you are insecure about your height. Like seriously? Where do we draw the line in trying to remake our families, friends or significant other into that ‘perfect’ person that lives in our heads?

In the past I have been a victim of ‘remodeling’ and trust me, it wasn’t a sweet deal.

It would be so much easier if people accepted each other. If you can’t do that, just walk away. If no one forced you to stay, why should it be a do or die affair? If you make the deliberate choice to stay, accept and love these people in your life, pray for them. If you can’t, let them go.

When we tweak and adjust people in our lives, we often make them unrecognizable and sometimes downright boring. The result of this mutation becomes predictable – we inevitably complain, nag and sometimes, like the picture above, abandon them because they have changed too much.

But change doesn’t really happen where we think it does. The thing about making people change on the outwards is that they are still the same people inside. They may look like they changed but an unchanged heart, spirit or mindset, is just like a wolf pretending to be a sheep. One day, the real nature will always surface.

The right and lasting kind of change is that which comes from within; a conscious and deliberate decision to alter something for the greater good. People are often so fixated on the external which has thus created a large pool of pretenders playing roles for a willing audience.

Sooner or later, people get tired of acting and then the comparison, nagging and complaints starts. The circle begins.

Back in University, a friend of mine (a Christian) was dating a Muslim. We all told him it was doomed from the start, but love, who people say is blind, clouded his better judgment. It turned out the lady was the stronger of them both cos by the end of the session my dear friend became a Muslim. In his words, she had chewed his head off until he caved, for the sake of peace and love. Love, the alter upon which many a resolve and numerous ethics have been slaughtered and sacrificed.

They dated all through school, to our amazement cos we all thought he would get tired of the charades and call it quits. For 6 years + he was a practicing Muslim to the sorrow of his parents but we all learned to live with it. That was why it came as a shock 2 years ago when he hugged me at the Experience music concert all decked in his Muslim cap and goatee - he was never allowed to hug me after his conversion. It turned out that dearest Fatimoh, (that was her name) dumped him a few years after school; her reason being he was not from a Muslim family and her parents wouldn’t sanction the marriage. Major bummer right? Now poor Jide is a religious mess – indecisive of which religious path to tread.

He’s strayed too far off course that he now feels stupid turning back to God and Christianity. I feel sorry for him, really I do, but all the wasted ‘love’ and compromise and ‘change’ of over 6years could easily have been avoided.

I can think of a number of experiences shared with me by friends and colleagues and I’m sure you can too, but what a joy and relief it would be if we all could just learn not to meddle. It’s sad though that a lot of us tend to throw out our brains and lose our identities for acceptance or love. How much easier life would be if we all could first accept ourselves because in that singular act lies the greatest acceptance of all.