Victims and Victors

A cycle of failure

Frank works as a bank teller with one of the new generation banks in Lagos, Nigeria. One that you will want to boast about but if you are like him before he got this job, he would rather transact online than come to the banking hall.

It only took two months for him to get bored on the job. A creative like him isn’t suited for a ‘count,stamp and sign’ job but it pays the bills and gives the image of being a big boy.

He has now worked three months shy of two years and depressingly bored on the job.

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It took approximately two hours for Frank to get to the office. The clock at the reception area read 7:42am.

He leaves his house in Ketu 5:15am every morning except Thursday that he leaves 5:30am.

Someone described Lagos as the land of rats. If you don’t understand what a rat race is just look at the lifestyle of many Lagosians.

Wake up 4am, hit the road by 5am, get to your workplace 8am, work for a take home that hardly takes you home, close by 5/6pm, hit the road again, get to your house 9/10/11pm, on a bad day 12/1am. Then repeat the cycle again the next day.

Not to talk of the drama in traffic and the fights on the road. The problem with bus conductors, commercial preachers in the bus and fake drugs sellers. Sometimes you wonder how people survive in Lagos.

Frank waved and smiled dryishly at the office cleaner who was trying to gist with him. He went to the loo, pee, breathed heavily,washed his face, dried his hands by the electric dryer and said a sharp short prayer.

A ritual he has habitually followed for more than a year. It has so much entered into his subconscious that he doesn’t think about it anymore. He only becomes aware that he has repeated it after the process is done.

Just like the immoral habit that has now mastered him. He has tried all means possible to stop but it seems impossible so he has given up.

He dragged himself to his cubicle, people were already on queue and another round of counting, stamping and signing started.

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Mercy sat by her bed feeling all blue and dejected. She had done it again, tears flowed gently on her face to the pillow.

“What is really my problem? Am I truly possessed?” She said, making reference to what Mrs Eniola James, a woman that counselled her in church told her yesterday.

She hissed, ignored the thought, stood up from her bed and walked to the bathroom. Opened the shower and the thought of what happened the night before came to her.

She had gone to church yesterday after many months seeking for help. Luckily for her they had a female guest minister in church who talked about overcoming addiction.

She waited after the service to see her and after confessing everything to her. She counselled her and mentioned that sometimes addictions can be demonic and the person afflicted may need to be prayed for. At that point the woman completely lost her.

“I am not interested in allowing some people push me down, speaking gibberish and claim they are delivering me from a demon.” She said to herself.

She thanked the woman, took her phone number and left.

She was so angry with herself for going to church in the first place. She drove to a bar and drank herself to stupor. She hooked up with a guy who drove her home, slept with her all day and left her in the night as he was going to work the next day. She couldn’t even remember the guy’s name.

“What is wrong with me?” She said, sat in the bath and sobbed loudly.

She picked a pack of cigarette by the window, lit it and smoked. After some minutes she threw the empty cigarette pack at the mirror and sobbed.

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Mercy’s parent, both pastors, lives in the US with her other siblings, she came back to Nigeria for her NYSC. She fell in love with Lagos and decided to stay back to look for a job.

A brilliant young lady who graduated top of her class with an Economics degree and a MBA from Harvard. She served in a bank and was part of the marketing team.

Marketing opened her up to Lagos life, she thoroughly enjoyed herself going from one club to the other. Her team leader had introduced her to some politicians and she was soon dining with the high and powerful in Lagos.

The head of marketing had called her to slow down as being a marketer doesn’t mean you should live a riotous life but she completely rejected her advice and told her she is matured enough to handle herself.

Her arrogance prevented her from being retained after her service year and she didn’t care at all.

She applied for a job in one of the big auditing firms and she was in the process of recruitment when she met Kola a very rich young man who said she shouldn’t get a job but come and live with him.

They lived together for five months until a day that Kola brought two girls to the house over the night. He beat her up and sent her packing in the middle of the night when she slapped one of the ladies.

She moved back into her dad’s house in Lekki phase1 and her life spiralled down till today. Her parent’s doesn’t know anything about her life, they only call to check up on her and send money.

All her friends have deserted her after sleeping with almost all their boyfriends. It was one of them that called her a sex addict.

As she sat in that bath sobbing she said “I think I am truly a sex addict.”

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Habits governs our life. They form our character and people perceive us as good or bad based on our habits.

The most minute of our actions can be traced to a pattern of behaviour picked up at some point in our life.

Our life experiences, religious inclination, training and people we relate with bestows on us habits that we may not even be aware that we have formed.

Until we consciously decide to choose habits that we form, we will be at the mercy of external influences.

Good habits should be reinforced while the bad ones replaced. From experience and research from numerous experiments, it has been proved that the only effective way to stop a bad habit is to DEVELOP NEW ONES.

From Frank’s habitual ritual everyday to Mercy’s addiction issues. We can choose the habits that we want our character and ultimately our life to be formed after.

To be continued…

@ohteehem

@ohteehem…committed to 2 Timothy 2:2