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I increased my pace as I walked to the park, feeling confident in my neatly ironed designer's shirt and well-polished blazers. I sure looked like a bag of money. If anything would edge my chances at the interview, it definitely would not be my dressing.


Different loud noises emanated from various corners in the street. People looked mean as they went about their business which is usual in Lagos. I had gotten used to the rowdiness of Lagos metropolis after job hunting for a while now.

I listened closely for shouts of my destination which is V I amidst the various chants that rented the air. In no time I located a bus heading to my destination and found a good spot inside the almost empty rickety info. I said my prayers and started rehearsing my answer to likely questions. Fifteen minutes later the almost empty bus had become full and in no time the driver started the journey.

My phone had died before leaving my house and I needed to know the time to ascertain if I was behind schedule. "Abeg wetin be time?" I asked casually. Nobody answered me. A plump girl in the front row with a pimple ridden face looked back at me like I had just spoken German so I directed my question at her this time.

"Please what's the time?" I asked politely in my American accent. She hissed and turned her face back to the front. My queens English probably intimidated her local ratchet ass. I thought to myself so I turned to ask the dude by my left. "guy abeg wetin be time?" I asked him. "I nor know" he replied rudely. A certain unwelcome ambiance seemed to follow my question of the time.

I felt it strongly but my mind was occupied with the interview so I went back to brainstorming quality answers to possible questions that might be asked at the interview. For the rest of the journey to V.I, my mind, body, and soul were occupied with the interview and my career prospects.


I had forgotten about the incident totally up until recently when I was discussing with a friend and he was informing me about the increased rate of ritualists disguised as Yahoo boys then he mentioned time asking as another ploy by ritualists to steal destinies. Instantly my mind drifted back to the above incident. I could now understand the reasons for the unnecessary drama which followed when I asked for the time that day. We learn every day.

Originally published on
http://loudthoughts.com.ng