It’s a common saying in Nigeria, often said when someone is trying to cover up for his/her wrong doing “hehehe… see the pot calling the kettle black ooo” which means, you’re a bad guy trying to nail another bad guy, it’s actually, very true, and yes it’s an “effective” way to stop people from blaming you after doing something considered unacceptable or bad.

The truth is, I’ve used this magical phrase on several occasions, but I felt bad the last time this phrase was used against me, bad to the extent that I cried inside my car (mum’s car). Trying to be the good guy with the black paint bucket in my hand was a really bad idea on this faithful Monday morning, I had to follow my mum to the bank for a certain bank transaction, we got to the bank very early, (since she had to get to her place of work before 9am), averagely there were about 20 customers in the banking hall when we came in, it’s a branch of First bank Plc. I guess that explains the high numbers of people in the bank at that early period of the day, most of the customers inside the bank are old folks rich old folks, probably claiming their monthly salary, redeeming western union fund transfer, complaining about the SMS charges and other stuffs that old folks could possible complain about.

As luck will have it, “the network is bad this morning so you will have to wait for some minutes for the server to come online” (quoting the teller man), this old folks don’t give a rat arze about server, just give them their money and let everybody be happy, they wouldn’t sit down, they stood like a soldier going for war on the straight queue, being a smart boy, that I was supposed to be, I joined the queue as my mum was filling out the withdrawal slip, she wanted to make withdrawal from her account and make deposit to her supplier’s account, so I advised that she fill out both booklet and give it to the teller man, which to my surprise she did without arguing (My dad would argue and tell me how he did it in 19XX when he was doing his Ph.D.), after filling out the booklet, she came to where I was and joined the queue.

The network is now online, but very slow, so it takes a considerable time before they attend to the next customer, I was sitting on the awkwardly cold iron chair inside the banking hall, for some reason, I don’t like sitting inside the bank, and the hospital, this two places have their way of manipulating my nerve coordination, such that my neurotransmitter would send barrage of false impulses instructing me to get the hell-out-of-here. My mum could tell I was not confortable sitting idle inside the bank, what if armed robbers come in with their AK90047?? This guys are old and probably close to their grave which means they wouldn’t care about whatever happens, since they’ve spend the best part of their life. “Lord, have mercies” (I prayed silently). I was monitoring the door closely, and planning my exit strategy in-case my imagination becomes a reality.

After monitoring the door for about 5miutes, I felt a sign of relief, probably because my mum is getting closer to the teller guy, or because the number of customers inside the bank has increased significantly, making it easier for me to go unnoticed if the “bad-guys” should come in. Just as I was about to launch my mobile browser, I caught a glimpse of a fairly big man inside the transparent bank door, he is significantly big and well dressed, he is obviously a civilian (Former president Obasanjo’s physique), at least we’re safe, this man won’t do any harm, little did I know that he would be the cause of me being thrown out walked out stylishly of the banking premises.

Entering like a big man, actually, he is, with his round rimmed reading glasses, he brought out a cheque from his “agbada” (Yoruba’s native attire), walks directly to the cashier and passed him the cheque. “What the phuq?” I screamed in my heart, my mum has been standing there for about 20minutes, and you walk in straight to the teller and pass your cheque? Am never going to allow this ss.hh.i.t. On a normal day (today isn’t normal) I would have let his action pass, but I wouldn’t let it pass today, simple because am pissed off with the ASUU strike, coupled with the fact that my mum is on the queue.

I stood up (without thinking) walks straight to the cashier, “Please return his cheque back to him, and let him join the queue” I said. The teller man raised his head from his small cubicle, looked into my eyes (I could swear he saw the burning anger right there) and gently slide the cheque back to the old fat man. “What do you mean, respect yourself” The fat man snapped at me, (I was a bit scared when I heard him), “I have to be at work before 9.a.m” he said repeatedly, it took mean a while before I realized what he was doing, it was too late before I realized, “My mum has been on that queue for almost 30minutes, same thing applicable to all those guys you see over there. They’re not jobless too, so you should rather respect yourself by joining the queue before another customer comes in” I said, fidgeting. There was this dirty man standing beside him, I guess he is his driver/aid, the man told me to shut up and allow his boss (or whoever he is to him) to claim his cheque, the guy keep asking if am a thief, (little did I know that he was giving me an hint to what was about to happen), “Am not a thief, am here to make transaction just like you” I said irritably, standing between the fat man and the teller.

After three minutes of cursing and tantrum (he was really pissed), my mum left her position on the queue and came to where I was, asking me what is happening, I told her, just as I was explaining the situation, the dirty man (probably the fat man aid) said “When we get out of here, I would show you who I am” hearing this my mum started begging this dirty man, “Please don’t show him who you are, he’s just a kid, we’re sorry, you can please give the man your cheque” that moment, I was very disappointed, and I secretly wish I was in the bank with my dad or my uncle, he would have supported me. While all this issue was going on, the fat man kept cursing, threatening to deal with me.

Then the bank manager came out of his office “What’s happening, he asked the fat man”, “I want to make withdrawal and this little brat instructed your staff not to accept my cheque.” He said. The last thing I want to do is present myself as an irresponsible boy before the manager, so I allowed his name calling to slip away. “Sir, this old man, came in, went straight to the cashier and gave him his cheque, without giving cognizance of the queue, the least he could have done was ask for permission from those that were on the queue, assuming he had important issue to attend to” The man nodded and collected the cheque from the old man. “Where were you standing when he came in” he asked me. “I was sitting over there, and my mum was on the queue” I said irritably since I was very sure I have lost the argument already, “where is your deposit slip? Withdrawal slip?” he said noticing that I don’t have any of the slip with me “My mum…..” “So you don’t have any business here? What are you doing inside the bank? Are you here to steal? Get out!!! Before I instruct the security officer to arrest you!!!!” He barked at me, I’ve never felt so intimidated in my entire life, tears was about to roll down my eyes “What do you mean? He is my son and he is here with me! I need you to please shut down my account right now, am not banking with you again, and insulting my kid by calling him a thief? Is that a way to threat customer?” my mum responded, my mum doesn’t get angry easily, but when she does, it would be a very bad and scary scenario. “Am sorry ma, your child is not my customer, you’re my customer, If you’re the one making complaint it would have been another issue” the manager pleaded “What do you mean? Do you think am here to borrow from your bank? Check my bank account! Am not some average life individual you can threat anyhow……” she said… I could barely hear the rest of what she was saying, as the security guy came for me, instructed me to get the hell out of the banking hall before he drag my arze to jail.

I walked out of the bank, gently because those security guys meant business; I don’t want to make the news as a teenage boy that got shot accidentally inside the banking hall.

I got inside the car, and replayed the entire event in my head, as I wait patiently for my mum to come out of the bank, I kept wondering why the people I was fighting for kept mute (that’s the most painful part), why my mum begged the dirty clothed man, why the bank manager wouldn’t allow me to fight on my mum behalf, why the dirty clothed man threatened to deal with me because I was fighting for the right cause, why none of those guys saw the entire issue from my perspective except for the teller man that said loudly “He is right sir, I can’t process your cheque” As I think over the whole incident, tears roll down my eyes, and I wept silently, not only because the people I was fighting for (including my mum) disappointed me, I wept because I felt intimidated, because I had no power, If I was to be an inspector General of police, am very sure the bank officer wouldn’t have thrown me out of the banking hall, they would have treated me with respect.

I wept for about three minutes, then I looked into the rear-side mirror, and I saw the fat man and his dirty aid walk out of the bank with a brown envelop, quickly I locked the door and wound up the glasses. I was cleaning the tears off my face when my mum tried to open the door, I unlocked the door using the central lock and she came in with a brown envelope too.

She got into the car and we left the bank, I didn’t utter a single word to her, I was happy that she got to make her transaction right after the fat man, but the purpose of my little scene was defeated, since they (the fat man and my mum) cheated the other guys on the queue. It’s a personal favour from the bank manager, putting customers with huge account balance ahead of ordinary customers like those standing on the queue, I am very sure my mum would have done the same thing that fat man did provided I was not there, she knew I wouldn’t allow her to do such in my presence.

This incident happened about two weeks ago, and today I was half sleep, half awake, wondering why Nigeria is not progressing, why everything remain static, why ASUU refused to resume, why FG won’t resolve the issue, why our roads are bad, why we praise PHCN for providing us the service we’re paying for, why the name Nigeria could easily replace scam in a sentence, why militants are earning more than a professor, why nepotism is the only way to secure a federal appointment, why the number of graduate on the street doubles that of those in the school, why our healthcare system is nothing to speak about, why armed robbers keep building houses here and there, why an average Nigerian would think of duping you in any business transaction, why everybody is running away from the country.

I couldn’t answer myself, then I remembered that as I was driving around town on that same day (the day the bank incident happened) I needed to buy airtime, I parked the car on the road side, and honk the horn, I saw clearly that there are several customers queuing right in front of the girl, but she neglected them and ran to me, to sell the airtime, I was buying airtime worth #100, am very sure that some of the customers standing right in her shop would be buying more than that. And then the answer to my question dawn on me. It’s the people!!! It’s our DNA, our genetic composition is faulty! And no matter what we do, posterity will continue in our footstep.

What do you think? Do you believe that we would later have a generation where things would be a bit normal? Do you think our DNA could be modified through training or other means?

NB: Sorry if the write-up is too long. I just feel the need to write this maybe it will help me get over the entire incident.

our DNA is faulty. Lmao!

our DNA is faulty!

evagolden: our DNA is faulty!

Sincerely, it seems like the only reasonable explanation.

¤¤¤lurvely¤¤¤:
@ op,I think I understand where you're coming from and you're right thougĥ I'm not in total support of our DNA being faulty,just the Nigerian believes,attitudes and way of life.

Yes, the believe of showing people "who we really are" once they're not in support of our actions. Thanks for reading.

Where mods dey?? Front page abeg!!!

life is not so straight forward. in a complex society like nigeria, it's what i will call a compound-complex way/form of inter-relating with eachother. like ur car-credit scenario, there was a day i was buying airtime worth #1900. the girl left me to sell to those in a traffic jam. i could easily have walked away but 'explained it' that they were in a rush (traffic could start moving anytime) and i could spare a few minutes for the girl to make more sales.
is that also faulty?

careytommy: life is not so straight forward. in a complex society like nigeria, it's what i will call a compound-complex way/form of inter-relating with eachother. like ur car-credit scenario, there was a day i was buying airtime worth #1900. the girl left me to sell to those in a traffic jam. i could easily have walked away but 'explained it' that they were in a rush (traffic could start moving anytime) and i could spare a few minutes for the girl to make more sales.
is that also faulty?

There is always an excuse to justify our wrong doing. I assume the girl "explained" her reason after selling the credit to the guys in the car, probably when she noticed that you don't like what she did. Life is complicated like you've pointed out, there is nothing wrong if the girl gives the guys in the car some sort of preference, only after she must have sought your approval. I call that "Human respect".

Thanks for reading.

Op.. nice article. I really understand your point.

My professor in school used to say that Nigeria is a faulty society.

it's all about attitude.. if Nigeria should get better, we need values reorientation.. not NOA type of orientation.

obayaya: Op.. nice article. I really understand your point.

My professor in school used to say that Nigeria is a faulty society.

it's all about attitude.. if Nigeria should get better, we need values reorientation.. not NOA type of orientation.

Exactly! @Bolded is the summary of the entire article.

Thanks for reading.

Hmmmm... when it is someone else committing the act, it hurts and we condemn it but when we are the ones in their position, it seems okay to do it. That is the sad truth. Many of us criticize and castigate our leaders for corruption but it doesnt seem wrong when it's in our own homes, offices etc. As long as it favors us, no biggie but once we no longer benefit, it becomes a problem.

Egba girl: Hmmmm... when it is someone else committing the act, it hurts and we condemn it but when we are the ones in their position, it seems okay to do it. That is the sad truth. Many of us criticize and castigate our leaders for corruption but it doesnt seem wrong when it's in our own homes, offices etc. As long as it favors us, no biggie but once we no longer benefit, it becomes a problem.

Yes!!! The entire cheating starts right in the family, when mom makes herself an omlete using three eggs and used two eggs for others. Laughs*

Thanks for reading.