Never Gonna Happen Again

You can get PTSD anywhere. From the cradle, we have always had people cater for our needs but things changed when puberty and/or adulthood set in. A great deal of responsibility vis-a-vis personal needs has been carried into your very hands. This is why, as a general rule of thumb, we work to at least get our basic needs met except for those born with a silver spoon perhaps. Getting work - just any work - is not as easy as it sounds but it only dawns on an individual when the worth of the reward does not match the work done. Naturally, life ain’t fair. I know.

_{Photo by Petr Sevcovic on Unsplash}

I have undertaken some jobs in my little existence but one of such that I won’t dare do again is being a Waiter. Nigerians, especially in the South, are a form of ceremonies. There are always some people who do not even know for whom a party was thrown but they are still in attendance anyway. This is why an event with a “strictly by invitation” tag is considered a stingy one. I digress.

How It Started

I could remember vividly, it was during one of those occasional tertiary school teachers’ strikes. My mum had gone to visit an older friend, who owns a catering survive outlet, who told her that they needed some extra hands for an event the following weekend. As one who was bored of just sitting at home all day, I obliged. Little me, I didn’t know what I signed on for.

The day came and I was quick to get to the point of meeting where all the pots, glass wares and all other catering entities were stored. I met some guys washing plates and I was told to join them. That’s where it all began! We washed hundreds of plates - something that I had never washed one-tenth of even at home. Then, we had to wait for hours before the big madam came with a car. Next, we loaded all the utilities into the car as heavy as they were individually. Mind you, I was already tired at this point.

Can I just go home into my parents’ arms already?

The event ground was only a few kilometers away, on getting there I saw that some things were just being planned for - the tents, chairs etc. Guess what? We still had to help set up the whole thing. can you imagine? I have not even started what I am to be paid for.

The Main Course

Fast forward to the main deal, after the food had been brought and we were ready to serve the food. Left to me, I thought as my role implied, I would ONLY serve! Blatantly wrong! I had to receive orders from certain people in the event hall, go back and scoop the order in some plates, and go back into the hall to serve. In the same vein, we all had to go back and retrieve the plates after they were done eating for who was going to wash them. Rinse and repeat. Imagine doing this for about half a thousand people. We were just less than 6! And for what? Just 1500 naira ($2) then and some free food which didn’t reach anywhere.

I got home completely stressed out, my legs trembled through the night. I told myself that I would never be poor in life. Nothing will make me do this kind of job again. You say what if the pay was huge? I remain on my decision, I won’t dare. Healthwise, I do not like to stand for, or else I'll get body aches. And the reward even in those areas they pay more, I believe it is still way short of the worth of the work done.