March 11, 2015…

Cutthroat Chics  Chasing Dreams

There are dreamers. And there are doers.

Sometime last semester, Diane brought up the idea that we could get holiday jobs. Not necessarily jobs that were going to pay. Since we are studying Broadcast Journalism, it would be a good thing if we were to understudy or intern at any radio station. Diane is a dreamer.

We talked with Brenda, our friend who is studying Public Relations and Advertising. Bre loved the idea. And she went on and on with fantasies of us already doing the job. Is she a “visualiser” or dreamer.

I loved the idea. It seemed wonderful. Since it was a holiday thingy, it would get us away from home. I hate being bored. This makes me undertake different projects. I love projects. Some people can’t be idle. I am a doer. Pun intended? Maybe.

After the exam, we, Bre, Diane and I, hit the road. We printed out our CVs that bright Wednesday morning. February 25. We had spent time in school doing other stuff; Diane and I had an assignment to submit. We had to ask our buddy in the school’s radio studio, Demy Banks, to help us submit the assignment to our lecturer.

We hadn’t even set out to do what we planned to do and my friends were already tired. Trust me to have enough enthusiasm and optimism for the team. They were walking like they had no purpose. I noticed that somehow, I find myself the leader of any team I am in. I motivate people. To them, it might seem like I am pushy or even bossy. I don’t care. As long as the job is done excellently. I am result/goal-oriented.

We got to the first radio station. It was the closest to our school. I plied that road for four months and I didn’t know that there was a radio station there. At the gate, Bre met a dude she used to know from a distant time she did her internship at a distant place. Small world! He told us to ask for a dude working in the radio station. Chinasa. In the “absence of Chinasa” we were to see a Sola. We should tell whomever we meet that he, Kunle, sent us. You can imagine how happy and sanguine we were. Things were looking up.

We got to the security post and the tired and washed out security men asked us who we wanted to see. We told him. He called Chinasa. We waited for 5 minutes before he showed up. He rolled into the security post like a ball. That is because he is as round as a ball. Obviously, no one has asked him to hit the gym. He told us he was going to tell Sola we were waiting for him.

That was how we wasted two hours.

We didn’t see anyone. Rather, no one came to see us. Maybe they were just too fat to come down the stairs. I know people on the big side who are more agile than thin people are. These radio people were just mean. There is a place in hell for mean people. Especially mean men.

I saw my friends lose hope before my eyes. Like someone stole their candy. It was like watching a Soufflé fall. They just tried one place and they lost hope? Who are these people? I had to give a little pep talk to my team.

We went to a restaurant to get pastries. Bre has been dying to lose the extra pregnancy fat.  Diane and I just ordered for a meatpie and a What-I-Don’t-Know-But-Lawd-It-Tastes-so-Goooood respectively. I just love experimenting. We decided we would check some stations the next day. Bre said she had a church “commitment”. She couldn’t join us on Thursday.

On Thursday, Diane and I walked a very long distance. We tried out three places. Nothing. But, the thing I noticed was that we were getting bolder in the way we approached the people. We went past the security post at the first radio station. We got to the reception at the second. We went as far to the Human Resource at the third station. To me, that was progress. And I gave Diane a lot of pep talk. We went to see a friend of mine who has his own business. He told her how he started. And now, he is doing very well. Very, very well. This helped lift Diane’s spirits.

On Friday, we met with Bre’s friend, Kunle. He told us there was space for just one person. Bre took it. She needed it. Kunle gave us his friend’s phone number . His friend is a DJ at a radio station.  The DJ agreed to meet with us on Wednesday, March 4. He asked us to come with a letter of internship from the school. We didn’t have that all along. We weren’t too sanguine about it, I must confess.

On March 4, we couldn’t see DJ. We had to wait for our HOD, Mr. Victor, to give us a letter. I called DJ. He said it was late. I asked him if we could make it Thursday and he said, “I don’t know,” after I had explained to him why we couldn’t make it to the radio station. Poor dude thought I was fibbing. On our way out of school, Diane and I met Mr. Abdul. A lecturer we didn’t like at first. But somewhere along the line, we became buddies. Long story there. He scoffed when we told him we were going to meet a DJ. He gave us his friend’s number.

On Friday, we went to the radio station and we eventually got it.

Diane’s mum knew someone that knew someone that knew someone. We met him up on March 9. He wanted us to do TV. But then, we wanted to do radio. After careful deliberation, we decided to do TV since this semester, we’ll be doing TV. This will give us an edge over our classmates. I was just so happy with the turn of events. As it is, we have two choices: the TV and the radio station. This is a good thing. Hard work and prayer pays. I know how much I prayed for this. God surely listens to prayers. I don’t subscribe to religion but I pray fervently and God listens.

Bre is happy. She WAS unhappy. I don’t think I should delve into that. That is a gist for another day. Of course, I will need her permission to write about her story.