“Oh no!! It’s not as crisp as it should be!!” I screamed. Mum probably though I’d lost it. I’d ironed that skirt to the very brink of death and it still didn’t look as crisp as I thought it should.



“You’re just nervous. Calm down. You’re going to do great.” Mum said soothingly. I stepped in for a hug and inhaled her rather baby-like scent. For some reason, Mum showered with cussons baby soap.

“I hope so. I gotta get going. I want to arrive at least thirty minutes early.” I backed away from Mum and walked to the door. More like ‘sashayed’ to the door. No thanks to the 5-inch thin-heeled Dylan Schmore shoes.

“Why don’t you put on more comfy shoes Dear?” Mum advised. And I always took her advice.

Without another word, I kicked off the corporate but suicidal shoes and ran to my room. In thirty seconds, I was wearing a pair of comfortable wedge heels.

I arrived approximately 32 minutes early and parked my beat-up 1990 bluebird. It looked completely out of place in the midst of the rather level-reducing cars of the GOOGLE NIGERIA staff. Yeah, you heard right. GOOGLE frigging NIGERIA. The branch office is situated in the capital territory. My family luckily lives in the territory.

Anyway, GOOGLE NIGERIA called on First-class candidates of Computer Engineering to apply for the positions Software engineers. Two positions were available.

Zagadis, zagadat, I was short-listed. My CV and résumé were pretty impressive though. Thanks to all the hours I poured into my textbooks at school. All the movies and I placed I didn’t watch or go to. And all the hours of sleep I gave up. First-class no be beans oo!

I walked briskly into through the motion-sensor glass doors that looked like something yanked out of the capital city of Tokyo, Japan. Crystal clear. The reception room was the size of a football field. No surprise there. Everything was as I expected it to be. Over-the-top decor.

“Good Morning,” I greeted the receptionist in my deepest alto tone. ” I’m here for the interview.”

“Good Morning Miss.” She greeted back with an impossibly fake smile and a too-cheerful voice. “Please proceed to the conference room. Down the hall by the right. Good luck”.

“Thank you,” I replied.

I walked over to the conference room and saw about ten others already there. For real? I glanced at the gold-studded wall clock. 7:30. The interviews were to start at 8:00. Thirty more minutes to put my mind together. I decided to take advantage of the opportunity and get a look at the others as more candidates trooped in.

Some looked nerdy. Like, really nerdy. This guy at my left looked geeky. Like, the intimidating kind of geeky. Two girls wore make-up that could pass off as art work. By that, I mean way too much. And plastic. But we all had one thing in common. First-class degrees. Both earned and bought.

“Alright fellaz!!!” Came a booming voice from the door. I looked up, and it took all of my will-power not to say ‘holy wakaroni’. There was no way the insanely tiny man with gray hair and wire-rimmed glasses could have such a mega-phone voice.

“Come one. Let’s begin!” I decided I liked him. His voice might be earth-quake-inducing, but it was cheerful. Cheerful ‘s good.

We all followed him down the hall where the Chief Managing Director was waiting to address us. A tall man in his mid fifties, who, to my utmost surprise, had a patch of brown spray on his hair. Like seriously?

“Welcome, Candidates,” He began. “GOOGLE NIGERIA is honoured to have the best with her today. I am John Roberts, CMD. I just wanted to give you a few words of advice. We shall be testing you on four criteria:

Customer relations and people skills, as the software engineers have to relate with people to know their problems; Software engineering itself, because we have to see how good you are; Speech fluency and writing skills, because you have to document your programs; and finally, character.” He paused to give us a white smile.

“This is GOOGLE NIGERIA,” He continued. “We take in only the best among equals. Right now, you all have a hundred points to thin down to zero. Do not think you have zero to build up to hundred. That is the mentality many students and job applicants have. The hundred is in your hands. You don’t gain, you lose. A word is enough for the wise. Good luck.”

All thirty of us seemed to exhale at once. That had been tense! The tiny man, who introduced himself as Mr Okoye, led us down to a large hall with about 5 doors off to the side. The room had this shea butter smell I’d always found nauseating. The heck?? I got dizzy before you could say shazam!

The doors were for the first interviews. 6 candidates to one door. The process began and after about two hours, it was over. I feel pretty good about it because I had a really friendly conversation with my interviewer. He started off strict and mean but then again, I am the princess of sunshine and I radiate awesomeness. Bam!!

The practical part started, and then I was in my true element. We were tested on every damn thing about networking and web software. From Server management to human search engines. EVERYTHING! That took five concrete hours. Crap! We were all as hungry as Gandal in the movie Graters. That guy that went on for so long without food, his eyes sunk in. Let me not get started on his ribs.

We weren’t even given water. The Okoye guy said it was part of the training. Sometimes the engineers had to spend hours upon hours managing server problems, which is kinda like medical surgery. You can’t take a break. Oh well, I steeled myself. All my days of fasting during the Lenten season was starting to pay off. I could do this. Just had to stop looking at Okoye as he gobbled up a plate of fried chicken and gulped down a bottle of chilled Teem.

The third stage began. Speech fluency and writing skills. It was a written exam. And part of it included reading out some text aloud. Another three hours. By then, it was already 6:00pm. I was starving!!

We were sitting in the conference room, all trying to look indifferent even though we were all developing bore holes in our stomachs, when Okoye came in with some people who dressed like fancy Italian chefs, pushing food carts toward us. Thank Jahhhhhhhh! Finally.



To my utmost dismay, they served us each one tiny chicken pie and a bottle of Fanta. For real? After ten good hours? Anyway, we had no other choice. Half a loaf of bread had always been better than none.

Okoye and his troop left, without even giving us bottle openers. We had emptied the content of our pockets and left our bags at the practical test room. No one had a bottle opener in there. What were we supposed to do? Use our teeth?

Sweet Makaroma! Some of the others actually started uncorking their bottles with their teeth just then. Ow! Talk about razz. I decided to wait.



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