15 Dec 2008 |
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…From the Chronicles of My Misty Blues. By Ayomide When it rains…it pours. So they say, and so it has been in my life. I guess it’s pointless to stop musing now. Actually, it’s good to reflect on life. I believe it helps you gather yourself; determine what is important, and where priorities lie. Challenges define your path, and victories thereof, including failures, attest more testimonies.
The second part of this year has been more challenging than I ever imagined it would be. All had been going according to plan. All loose ends had been rectified. My work was going well with great strides and recognition at ---pace. I had reconnected with old, long-lost friends, and I had met solidly new ones. My family life was good. My dad was hanging tough. I cherished our mini painfully-sweet conversations. My little brother, a casualty of the Nigerian failed system, was finally getting married…I figured as wonderful as she is, she could only improve his life. The only constant was/is Misi. I suppose theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Suffer not the little children, and so it was. I mean, life was good.
As this tortuous year runs to an end and as customary for me to strategize towards a better New Year right about Thanksgiving, I realized that I’m not even sure that I’m really still alive. I find me pinching myself a lot to check on me. I still wonder if all these catastrophes have been occurring to me. I find it perplexing that I’m still able to hold my head high considering all that I’ve endured the last few months of this year. I smile and “Thank you Jesus” escapes from my lips…a lot. I’m not your average Christian. That’s for sure. I love going to church. I love praise and worship and deep prayers. I love going out to secular places and having a great time too. I have always had the conviction that God did not make life this beautiful for me to short-change myself. My only resolve is to live it as carefully and safely as possible with a gentle reminder that the only person to be fooled would be me, in the final analysis.
That was many weeks ago before Ms. T, Lady Twyne, as she prefers to be called, came running down the hall. I heard her heavy footsteps clamoring like hoofs. She is not that heavy set but in a very cautiously quiet environment, those footsteps sounded like the beginning of world war III. I was still. I waited, half terrified. She burst into my office, slammed the door behind her, stormed over, dropped her purse on my desk as she screamed, crying, thumping her feet. Jokes apart, if she wasn’t crying, I would have thought she was doing the ‘ko-ko-ma’ dance or something. I sat up, my fists clenched over my lips; terrified that something awful must have happened.
“I just can’t take it anymore…I can’t…I can’t…” she sobbed helplessly. I darted up and grabbed her close, not muttering a sound, not a word. I know her. I knew I had to let it come from her. And since I knew of her sustained humiliation, and because she was so red, trembling like a baby, I just had to ask what was wrong, and suddenly, she just grabbed her purse, wiped her face/nose with my Kleenex, straightened her blouse, standing straight, and began to walk towards my door. I met and held her hand on the handle: “Ms. T, don’t do it”, I shook my head. “No, he can’t do that to people…he just took my job and gave it to the temp…racist bast***…I’m telling on his you know what…” You can’t do that, I warned. She pushed past me, yanked the door open, and started to march towards his office. There was nothing I could do but follow her.
She was my Admin support. She also supported one of the big heavies on the campus. She only defaulted to me because she insisted and manipulated ‘things’. Once, she disclosed that she felt it was her job to watch my back and she’s done a darn good job of it. I owe her a lot. She is the real melting pot of races. Mixed Filipino, Swedish, African-American, and Puerto-Rican blend. She is excellent at what she does…knowing and managing everyone’s business. She makes the famous “I’ve got your number baby” sound friendly; in real terms, she could use what she knows to bring the organization to its knees, so you have to respect and literally fear her. She just makes it her business to know your strengths and weaknesses, except mine of course (
She was in his office in a flash; wiggling her right little pinkie in his face…did she burst out ever? Talk about drama on the 18th floor… “I’ve been good to you…blah, blah blah…you’re just a redneck like the rest of them. You stabbed me in the back! I did everything for you…All through your three divorces…” Ms T!!! I shouted, half-dragging her out of the office, half apologizing to the big cheese (more like an old gizzard!). I dragged her, whilst she swore obscenities my conscience will not allow me repeat, down the elevator, with her banging on the metal panel, out to the parking lot…. Truthfully, I would have loved to hear more real dirt on the scumbag, although I’d heard enough to create some bad belle. “Did you take your medicine today?” I asked her. “No, and I don’t care! (Figures!
So sha, the temp, who has been almost successful at carving a nice new lazy position for herself, until she tampered with God’s own, had virtually stolen Ms. T’s job while she was on medical leave. Well…race sort of crept in and by process of elimination, this big cheese made Ms. T move her things in everyone’s view, out of her office, into a cubicle, dragging her left foot in a cast, and with her subordinates starring at her. It sounded so horrible when I heard it. I knew I had to make it right, if not for her, but for the other people of color who would come to the 18th floor.
He had followed us, but he shouldn’t have, because now, the whole world heard him pleading with her while she screamed even louder. It was a sight to behold…and I heard it all!!! I settled Ms. T into her car and asked her to go home for the day, promising to check on her in 30 minutes. “I’ll call you when I get home… I’ll go take my medicine now”, she laughed, winking at me, as she drove off. Badd girl!!
I returned to my office, pensive, knowing every nosy parker would be waiting for me. I was not disappointed. I felt their ears on my sleeves and their beetle-juice eyeballs under my chin. I made some faces at them and disappeared into the big cheese’s office as he had been waiting at his door. I said nothing he wanted to hear. I remarked that perhaps the situation concerning the retention of the temp and the displacement of Ms. T could have been handled differently, being careful not to state the obvious. He made a blunder, stating that he found her another job, etc…
I returned to my office and called my boss, God bless her soul, she’s just awesome, my guiding Angel. She was more than upset. Of course I knew what I was doing. I knew that the regional VP for the big cheese’s department would know in seconds. Well…I tried to bring this grave injustice to the knowledge of the powers that be while also safe-guarding my own position as I had refused to ‘rat’ on my Sista.
Anyway, that week, everyone and their busy-body wanted to take me out for lunch and dinner with movies… Ah, some oyinbos sha! Not to worry, I didn’t budge. I went to those I could, ate well, and defended her all the way… Let them quote me! The tension heightened there on.
Thus far, they have done everything humanly possible to cause me misery, but I’m standing strong, on the Cross of Jesus. As they bring one accusation or the other, I render proof to dispel the lies. I fought Lagos style…no ‘baga’ style (
And then, almost on cue, the challenges all began, bitter-sweet challenges.
My personal life was in shambles… I had become an orphan. Everything was falling apart. I just prayed most of the time. And sometimes, I was too numb to pray. My daughter noticed, and severally, she’d call me from school to see how my day was going… God what would…could I have done without her. I really believe it when they say…God will not give you what you cannot bear. I just took one day at a time.
The workplace was equally challenging. From facility managers who sought my opinion on matters, to directors who always sought my opinion on cost containment strategies, to the contracted housekeeper who must have been told to stop emptying my trash containers…I almost became a leper, but, God is merciful. I ignored all of them Naija style, and kept on with my work. Some of the friendly employees would sneak into my office, hug me and then dash off not wanting to be seen with the woman of color. It was hell summoning courage every morning to walk down the hallway to my office for almost two weeks. I though I would crack. I had my lunches alone. Ms. T had moved to another building. I missed her. I missed being able to greet her and camaraderie with her. I missed some juicy, sizzling, dirty gossips as well, although, let the record show that it was highly discouraged(
All correspondence was shared with my boss. The culprit of a director began to find faults with cost-saving programs. More programs were required of me, although nicely requested, as if I held the answers to all their woes and financial solutions these cost-crunching times. I asked the gizzard for time and planned my own strategy. I alerted my peers at two other regions. Thank God for functional professional liaisons! Without divulging all, I made my case and refused measures that might impinge on my practice. I went as far as the law of the land. My boss knew something serious was going on as I had suddenly become very quiet, although she remained very supportive. But I wasn’t trusting any one really… I only wanted to do the right thing.
As God would have it, He opened a crack in the wall so to speak. During a high-powered email interaction, one of these folks utilized a non-relevant situation for a personal attack. And it was in print! Well, he made a big mistake. I responded for clarification, and my boss, who had been fuming all along at the way I’d been treated, lost it! She dismissed everyone except the other two VPs. Later that afternoon, we were summoned back to conference and a public apology was tendered by this chief fool with yours truly well composed, writing emotionlessly, but relishing every second of it. I patted his head like a puppy, metaphorically, and encouraged better communication and working relationship, however, ensuring that his mistake was detailed and recorded to prevent any future vendetta.
I guess some folks are just blessed with good bosses…mine is fantastic. She’s just sent me a note as many in the past to acknowledge having to work in such a challenging environment and continuing to do so with grace…. I thought, I’d better include something about this incredible work experience, into my journal, at least for those who may find the similarities comforting.
E no easy o, my people, but God dey… I’m grateful to God almighty for his tender mercies in this foreign land. I wish I could just pack up my bags and go home to my motherland. I wish…I wish…I wish… Yeah! Who's stopping me?
Ms. T, whom I’d always told how detailed and meticulous she had been with her work, applied and secured a good position as a Project Manager, and, of course, with an annual $30K raise plus many enticing perks. I hear she’s been kicking azz and impressing on every project, doing very well and with such high self esteem as never witnessed. She continues to receive several accolades everywhere she goes… I still miss her, a lot, but to go she must in search for her best that is yet to come…
I say, when God fights on your behalf; you’d better calm down and allow Him to do his job!
More to come…
…From the Chronicles of My Misty Blues.
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). She is still trying to figure me out. Bless her heart… She was busy cooking my celebration dinner as I wrote this piece and she was going to be visiting my home for the first time. I digress… 
) I’m glad I didn’t. I wanted the bast*** to have it where it hurts!!” She is not crazy, I said to myself. She is just being a capital “Biaiitch”. I let her…with style….(
). Somebody needed to do it…
). For two weeks, I wasn’t privy to who was doing whom. Meeen, I missed her! 
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