Work

Image Source: Tara’s Multicultural Table ** The difference a few degrees makes never ceases to amaze me, a small mercy I have recently found to my advantage as the morning temperatures, dipping as they have below 30 degrees for the first time since April, have allowed me go for short runs and brisk runs again. Between stress eating in South Yorkshire and not being able to rack up those 10k steps, my weight has ballooned by a cringe worthy amount. In a sudden fit of resolve, I downloaded the NHS Couch to 5k app and have now completed one week. Hopefully, that along with some portion control, gets me back headed in the right direction. Frankly though, I would settle for being able to complete a sub 24 minute 5k again, seeing as the chap who ran Parkruns for fun in the ‘Deen seems like a whole different person now. ...

Based on a photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash ** That doing and not doing are both habits is something that I have come to grudgingly accept over the past month, seeing as the longer I was away from here the harder dragging myself back here seemed. In my defence real life has been manic, the stultifying pressures of time-sensitive deliverables not lending themselves to the pursuit of non-essential, creative pursuits. I have myself to blame for some of that pressure, seeing as I somehow thought fitting a poem a day challenge into everything I had going on would be doable. I made it through fourteen days of that - a minor miracle at least. With some breathing space coming up towards the end of the month, my hope is to go back over the prompts, edit, write some more, and begin the process of pulling some of the pieces together into a chap book for the evaluators in January 2020. ...

I have now been out here for just over eighty days, days which have sometimes felt like they have been punctuated by starts and stops. There were the two weeks of self-quarantining in which nothing seemed to happen, then a two day week occasioned by the Eid al-Adha holidays, and most recently a three day week for the National Day Holidays. Though somewhat an accident of timing, I have been grateful for the opportunities to break the monotony of work; up by 4 am, on a bus by 6 am, back home by 5 pm wash-rinse-repeat, and the gifts holidays sometimes bring, like a large tray of meat I got during the previous Eid holidays. ...

Photo by Reiseuhu on Unsplash ** I am finding myself drawn again to the radio and to the BBC World Service- not the physical box itself but the BBC Sounds app which my VPN allows me access - and in doing so, all sorts of memories come flooding back. Many moons ago, when I was nearer ten than thirty, the World Service was my companion on many a hot, humid day with not a lot to do. Programs such as Off The Shelf, Wright Around The World, various radio dramas and the bumper Saturday sports package which sated my Liverpool fixation in the days before colour TV (never mind satellite TV) came to my corner of the world, all came to define that era for me. ...

Image Source: Rajab Guga on Unsplash ** According to the Book of Proverbs King Solomon, who knew a thing or two about hope and despair once said - whether in despair or merely noting in a manner of fact way - that Hope deferred makes the heart sick, and for the last three months and some I feel like I have known just that; lurching — sometimes several times a day — between the delirious joy of looking forward to an adventure and the deep depths of despair. COVID-19 was the culprit, as were the not entirely unconnected issues of an oil supply glut and oil price wars leading to sub-zero oil futures pricing. That there was a clear cause-effect relationship did little to tame the perennial desire to find wider meanings in things that is our forte as Nigerians, cue warfare prayers from my near and dear ones, a la Mountain of Fire and all. ...

This has been sitting in my drafts for several months, so I thought I’d try to finish it off and post it here as a means to making use of the time I have on my hands. ** If there is a silver lining to being a terrible sleeper it is that I usually manage to wake up in time for things, typically before my alarm rings. The blips on that record are increasingly regular - and spectacular - like this past weekend when I slept through multiple alarms. When I finally woke up (having failed to do so to the alarm on my phone and on my watch), it was ten minutes before my taxi was due, cue half-brained rushing about to splash some water on my face, brush my teeth and grab my travel bags. By the time that was done, there were already two missed calls from the taxi driver and the company on my phone. There was, I thought, a hint of irritation on the driver’s face when I finally emerged. All of that disappeared once we were on the way, and speeding, to the airport. The usual chit-chat revealed he had passed through the corner of West Africa I was headed for many years ago, and that he was Latvian, not that anyone could have guessed from his near-perfect Aberdonian accent. Scrambling for change at the airport, he waived the additional £1.20, helped me with getting my bags out of the car trunk and then promptly disappeared for the next gig. Bag drop and security took ten minutes at that time of the morning, by which time I was barely lucid and grateful for the cup of black coffee I poured myself once I was into the lounge. I was the first of my work party to arrive, which gave me some time to settle in and breathe a little, before the incessant chit-chat and mindless prattle began. It was a good thing I managed to catch my breath because the chit-chat, when it began, focused on the prospect of my leaving for greener pastures - being a traitor to the cause was the good-natured accusation thrown about. In those days before the oil price tanked, there were stirrings of growth and opportunities and I was only the latest in a long line of folk who had either left or were in the process of leaving. To cut costs, we had somehow engineered a tight connection at Charles de Gaulle, our turn around time being a grand total of ninety minutes plane to plane which left us hands full, running almost full pelt through the airport. We made it with some time to spare in the end and were delayed by a further hour for reasons unknown to us, all of which left me internally cursing the necessity of the awfully early start. We found out in the end that the delay was due to a deportation order being served on someone, cue police and immigration and all the malarkey that comes with those. ...

More job opportunities - both abroad and in the UK - which I’m being considered for. Clear the air talks with S Friends, who at short notice modified their programs to assist me with signing off on paper work.

Came through what could have been a tricky presentation at work. The reward of good work is more work as they say, so more work is on the horizon. Great news from an interview I attended in early August, an offer has been extended I now need to make a decision!

\\\* A lot has happened over the last week: travelling for work in West Africa, juggling tight deadlines at work and interviewing for a new role I’d really like to get. All told, it’s a week I have survived, specific things I’m grateful for include: Returning safely to firm land following my four or so days offshore in the Ivory Coast. Resolution of a minor snafu at entry in which I failed to turn in my passport for a new visa stamp but managed to do so on my way out without any issues For pepper, and how it makes everything taste great again, especially fried plantains which are a staple out here. For friendly faces: people I’ve worked with in a different office who it was great to meet and get help settling in from. For good early opportunities: I spent a day sat next to a guy who had spent time working in Nigeria as an expat for the company I started off with. Being able to swap stories of that was great! The opportunity to interview at a much bigger company than mine across town.Apparently mine was one of four CVs selected from 60+ applicants. Good to know my CV was of interest in what was a competitive field. I hope I get the job, but if not some constructive feedback would be great!

\\\* This week I am thankful for: The opportunity to travel for work, the starting point of which was a 3.00am wake up, final bag checks and then dragging myself into a taxi by 4.00am. For what it’s worth, taxi’s out here can be a bit hit or miss, thankfully this one was a big hit; a Sri Lankan national who had lived and worked in most of West Africa in the early 2,000s and had an opinion on the Jollof rice wars. All of that made for a very pleasurable, if slightly woozy 20 minute ride to the airport. Bliss. The flight itself - business class via work - reminded me of all the delights of not travelling cattle class. All told - from leaving my house and arriving at my hotel at the other side - it was the better part of 16 hours, including a lengthy wait in Bamako for the President of Mali to fly off. The relative ease in which I travelled was something to be grateful for, as was what appeared to be a deportation, a reminder that just over 10 years ago, I arrived in my current country as an intrepid student but now have the luxury of belonging to another country. Friendly faces on one of the assets I stopped over at which made my easing into that work day the easiest it could be, given the circumstances Although my room on the first FPSO was iffy, I am thankful for the comparatively plush lodgings I ended up in, on day 3.