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“That is enough, I am going home. I am not doing this anymore. I have nothing to show for all my suffering here. At least if I am in my country, whether the children have food or not, at least I will feel free”
This is the second instalment of my experience of fellow Nigerian folks in the UK. You might find this one somewhat shocking and long, but please hang on with me. I first met ‘Bob’ (true name withheld) I think in 2005 as a new member of the church I attend. Very bubbly character was my first impression of him. I would have thought he was in his mid forties but I was later to find out that he was actually 61 years old having taken early retirement as a high ranking civil servant in Ogun State about two years previously. He had a young wife, probably half his age back home with three kids. This guy was one of the hardest working guys you could ever meet. Very much like John in my previous piece, he worked around the clock. He worked mostly for employment agencies that did not ask any questions at all when documents were presented – fake, expired or whatever!. These are always the worst and most exploiting. He once told me of a colleague of his that went to challenge the lady that does their wages about the constant inaccuracies with payments. The next thing this guy knew was that he was asked to go and bring his passport and National insurance card. The guy never returned to work with the agency again, and even worse, his last weeks wages were never paid on account of him not presenting his document. The agency simply sat on his wages. Period. Bob knew never to challenge his bosses. It was never in his character. He was your very typical old school guy that just endured every inconvenience with a smile. He would always say “I must feed my children, my wife must eat, and if I return to Nigeria, what will I return to do? A whole me, that had a driver, two cars and was looking after people. I cannot go back to the civil service ……” He will always complete his list of troubles with the usual optimism of our people and the name of Jesus Christ. This agency sent him to work at a warehouse belonging to one of Britain’s largest retailers. He was to work in the meat packing section. According to him, it was more like a cold storage room. Baba Bob always had a cold, even in summer, after working some 8 or 10 hours packing frozen meat produce. They were timed and there productivity was computerised. If he did not pack enough unto the distribution pallets in one shift, he would get a warning. From his explanation of how things worked, everything operated on output per period of time. Even if he went to the toilet this will affect his productivity at the end of the shift and he may not be allowed to come to that warehouse for work again. It was shocking. You can’t even go the toilet during a 10 hour shift- out of fear of loosing your job!!! Bob was very good at this though and the company actually offered to poach him away from the agency and make him a permanent staff. This would mean much more money per hour, and better working conditions, holiday and sick pay, pension plan etc. But could not even think of accepting the offer because he knew they would ask for his papers which he did not have. In fact, I remember him telling me of an encounter a fellow African colleague had when he went for interview as a permanent employee at the distribution warehouse. The guy sat down in front of the interviewer and produced his passport for observation as requested. Apparently, the interviewer thumbed through the book and said to him “So, how much did you pay for this?” The guy tried to argue and dispute the insinuation but the interviewer persisted, RIPPED HIS PASSPORT IN FRONT OF HIM, THREW IT IN THE BIN AND TOLD HIM TO GO AND REPORT HIM TO THE POLICE. It was a fake passport that this guy had the gumption to go and present at a job interview. It was this same interviewer who had taken a liking to Bob’s work ethics and wanted him as a permanent employee. Eventually, Bob had to leave the place because they would become suspicious if he continued to refuse the invitation. On top of the problem of finding another job in the UK, Bob had to fight pressures from his wife at home who was daily accusing him of having affairs in London. Her evidence – a prophet saw a vision at her church and told her that her husband has been seeing another woman and is not prepared to return to Nigeria again. This of all things bore down heavily on him more than anything else. He told me why. He was the one that told me of a pathetic practise among sex crazed folks over here, most of whom have a wife or even husband and children in Nigeria. They engage in some form casual relationship that is not just casual. He was approached by a Nigerian lady that he reckoned was about 50 or so. She wanted to introduce a lady to him, to help him cook and wash so that he won’t be alone. He flatly rejected the woman’s invitation. One evening, the woman turned up at his flat with another older woman he did not know from Adam. He was shocked to see the level of moral depravity that was common among some of our folks here. To cut the long story short and after running from one work place to another due to this paper issue, he finally got a plum warehouse job through an agency that gave him all the hours he wanted under the sun. They really liked him. Liking him did not mean they would allow him days off to go to church; liking him meant they would give him hours that they knew were unhealthy for any human being. If someone was without documents, and you were working for an agency, the number one rule to remember is: ‘If the agency calls you to come and work, no matter how many times – NEVER say no’ cos they will make sure you suffer for turning them down. As far as they are concerned, you don’t want to work, you are not serious even if you have worked 10-12 hours for the last sixteen days solid. Don’t say no. Bob will always say yes, cos he needed the money and even though, according to him, he was never paid in full, he never complained as long as he got something. One night he said he got so fed up with the whole situation that he just found himself walking aimlessly on the streets around midnight contemplating suicide. The whole thing came to a head after going through this cat and mouse round for nearly 4 years. When sick he could not go the doctors, if anyone knocked on the door of the 3 bedroom house that accommodated 5 people without having first phoned him that you were coming to see him – he will not answer the door. Why? Because you could be anyone i.e. Immigration. This was the house rule. You can guess why. It was like living as a prisoner. One day, Bob had been asked to go to work somewhere else than his usual place by the agency. Having finished the 5am-5pm shift, he was called to go and do some overtime that same day at his usual place of work. Remember the rule? On his way there, he was called by a Jamaican guy who was a manager at the place who immediately told him that the immigration police were at their place of work and had arrested so and so and if he knew his documents were not genuine, he better stay away. Bob responded “What do you mean? Do you think I am illegal immigrant? I have nothing to be afraid of if they chose to verify my documents provided by the agency – NI and Passport” Of course Bob was just bluffing, he did not want to give the game away, but he knew that was the end of the road! This happened on a Tuesday evening. He called me around ten at night in a state of panic. I drove to his place to console him and encourage him to look on the brighter side. I can just remember him saying to me “That is enough, I am going home. I am not doing this anymore. I have nothing to show for all my suffering here. At least if I am in my country, whether the children have food or not, at least I will feel free” He had already sourced someone who would help him return home with a made up passport. They knew how to do the whole thing, which flight to take, which airport, which route which time, everything. I tried to get him to reconsider, but No! He had made up his mind that enough was enough, he will not remain here while his family disintegrates back home. His children were starting to misbehave due to a lack of father figure, his wife regularly complained of missing the intimacy that they ought to have. His rationale was “What is it all for? After 4 years of slaving in the UK, why loose here and at home as well?” Three days later, I was driving Bob to the airport. There he was met by a guy who went into the toilet with him, gave him an envelope. Bob in return gave him some money and that was it. Before the guy turned up, I asked Bob how much he had on him. He said he only had £100. I said “What? For 4 yours of living in the UK, all you have to show for it is a hundred pounds, two 25 kilo suitcases and a 7 kilo hand luggage?” He responded “Yes! I have been begging my boss at the agency to pay my wages and she promised me it will be in the account on Friday but when I checked it, nothing was there”. I had to go the cashpoint at the airport, withdraw two hundred pounds and give to him to add to his £100. With tears in my heart I waved good bye to a wise good friend who did the best he could with a bad situation and after four years of trying, all he really had to show for it was £300, two hundred of which was donated to him. Bob is now in Sagamu, Ogun State working as a taxi driver after first working as an Okada man. He told me his wife nearly fainted when she saw him. Apparently, he did not tell her that he was returning home even though he spoke with her the day before in London. He had promised her that instead of sending money to her by Money transfer, he would send via someone he knew was travelling to Nigeria the following day. Unknown to the young wife, her husband was referring to himself. He tells me that despite the difficulties, and there are some serious difficulties, he feels free and most importantly, seeing his children grow under his wings was the greatest feeling. He said sometimes he regrets returning in such haste, but on second thought, it was the best thing to do.
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