Dashing through Allen Avenue street, one would wonder what could make a tall Nigerian youth dressed in a brown suit with an unfastened tie run. Well, this was Lagos, and anything could cause a 25-year-old boy like me to run as swift as a dog. For me, I had a job interview some meters away, and I was twenty minutes late.

I couldn't believe my luck, narrowly escaping death by a taxi driver who nearly ran me over. "Oga teacher, wetin dey worry you now? You wan lose your life this early morning. Please! Ikeja GRA. Take me there," in a hurry, I jumped into his vehicle.

GRA was a seven-minute drive from where I was, and maybe this taxi driver was sent by God to get me there, as it was rare to board a taxi from Allen Avenue street. His neck stretched outside through the window. "Try to dey careful next time." I hurriedly gave him some money from my pocket. I ran through the gates as he yelled, "Oga teacher, you no go collect your change?"

I handed over my envelope to the office attendant and took my seat among the other applicants, taking the next few minutes to knot my loose tie. The interview room was equipped with two air conditioners. I could feel the cold travel through my comfy suit.

"Have a seat," one of the two men dressed in black suits said. "We've gone through your CV, and we think you're capable for this job, but for formalities, we need further inquiries from you."

"Why is your suit stained?" the woman, dressed in a smart suit, sitting in the midst of the two, said. I thought she was making a joke until she repeated, "I said, why is your suit stained?" Of all the people I met today, none of them made a bad remark about my suit. "It's nothing, ma, just a little smudge." Why all this? All I expected was to answer a couple of questions and get through the interview, but instead, she was busy paying attention to insignificant issues.

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