never say die...naija spirit

I could swear I had seen these guys before. The wide eyes, anxious movements, suspicious looks, sweaty bodies .Like they were looking for something. It looked all too familiar, like a severe case of déjà vu. It was like …wait a second, I know them. These were my coursemates back at school .But it wasn’t the faces that was nagging at me, it was their composure or lack of it .We were minutes away from writing an online job test and somehow they had managed to find themselves at the same venue.
Let’s go back in time, shall we? We are in the university, same guys, same attitude, and same shifty look. In a few minutes, we were going to be writing an exam and these guys were searching for a point of convergence to form Voltron, defender of the universe. Remember Voltron and how all the lions come together to form the undefeatable Voltron? These guys are lions. I meant that metaphorically.(No shaggy mare. Walking on fours? Come on.) As in the cartoon, Voltron always defeated the enemy; these guys defeated whatever exam there was. Combined-efforts extraordinaire. But that is not the point. The point is that old habits die hard and for the average Nigerian student, in no truer sense does this apply.
But who am I to complain. I discovered that we all bore that syndrome. I happened to be called for a job interview. I rehearsed all possible questions but took for granted the details of company activities, corporate culture, and all the jargon one is compelled to learn when called for an interview. During the interview, it seemed like the only thing the interviewers couldn’t get enough of. I mumbled away some vague answers, hoping to make some sense. I left, knowing I had bungled the entire process but surprise, surprise; I was called for the next stage, another interview. Not ready to be caught unawares a second time, I decided to carry out a thorough research on the company. I hit the net and downloaded the necessary info.
The next day, feeling confident and a foot taller than every other person, like I had an expo they didn’t have, I walked into the waiting area. As I settled into my seat with that “hey, I know something you don’t” smile, and “I did something you didn’t” look, I could see that other interviewees had sheets of papers in their hands. They were reading, muttering, reciting, and asking questions. Typical of the last revision before exam, at school. Christ! Nigerians. “Hustlers.” I muttered under my breath.
Alright, so you think I was selfish to have assumed I would be the only one who would bother to go research on the company? Did I actually think that people were that dumb? Who no want better thing? As I sat pondering, “so where the heck is my competitive edge?” a girl just hurried in and sat beside me. “Gosh, am I late? What time are you scheduled for?” She asked. “9 am” I replied. “And you still haven’t gone in, it’s past 10am” she said. “Well, they may be taking their time.” I shrugged in response .Smiling with relief she said “That’s good then. They’ll have to finish those for 9am before they’ll get to me.” As I looked questioningly at her, she turned and in a conspiratorial tone added “I really need to jack this thing again.” My eyes widened as she brought out what seemed to be a stack of papers from her bag. She had literally downloaded, and printed the whole site. Even things I hadn’t bothered to check. “Hustlers, them all,” I rolled my eyes in exasperation. And then, as an afterthought, I turned to her. Flashing a smile that could make Robert Mugabe give up the presidency, I asked “Dearie, please, can I take a look at some of those materials?”
“Hustlers, us all.”