Chapter 3: A Hard Goodbye

I just grit teeth, jam door, waka commot. My footstep for corridor loud like drum. My body dey shake but I no gree show am—man no dey cry for work.

As Oga want am, I gats resign.

That evening, I reach house, pack my things small-small. My wife ask, "Haruna, wetin happen?" I say, "E get as e be." The house quiet like rain wan fall. I write resignation letter, send am—hand dey shake but my head dey clear. Man no fit dey where dem no value am.

After I left, oga employ five people, none fit do my work finish. My guys for office dey call me for night, dey complain: "O boy, wahala dey o!" Even dem wey dey feel like big man before, now dey sweat under work. For Naija, e no easy to replace person wey sabi road.

As I waka commot, I hear mosque call to prayer and church bell dey ring far for street. I just stand, look sky, reason say for this life, e dey always turn for people wey get patience. I swear for my mind—one day, e go reach everybody turn.

Until one day, new person cause wahala wey nearly scatter the whole company… Wetin happen after na tori for another day, but e clear say, as e be, no be everybody wey get certificate sabi pass for street.