Summers are for transitioning II

Ill-curated Spaces (2)?

A few months ago when I started applying for jobs, I opened a new email account to document my journey. As much as I needed a job -in specific places and with specific organisations, it was also a grand experiment; Just how far can I go without losing it? I have applied for over 50 jobs. Not just random applications, but ones that took me at least 7 hours each to tailor my cover letters and maybe another 3 hours to make full a application.

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Besides getting to the final stages to be dropped because I don't have an EU passport or a 10-year proof of living in the country, I have received a few other feedback from hiring managers.? I have been asked why I was not taking up roles in Africa. I have been told I needed to be more extroverted for a role. I have been told by organisations with 70% of their work in Africa that my background does not fit (the HQ culture?). I have been advised to seek operational roles (that is to go to the contexts of the projects themselves). I have been told a lot of things. I have been told in many words how little of a chance I have in the places I want to stay. This is regardless of what is often written on every job advert: "Equal Opportunity Employer: We are an equal opportunity employer and value diversity at our company. We do not discriminate based on race, religion, colour, national origin, gender, sexual orientation, age, marital status, veteran status, or disability status."

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I have gone through a few emotions the past months as well: anger, frustration, surprise, and now wonder. When I started the process of looking for opportunities that fit me, I had so much hope and aspirations. I knew exactly what I wanted. Where I wanted it and how I wanted it. 4 months down the line, the quality of my aspirations has dropped to a striking level -but they are still there. I have learned to be creative with my plans. To exist in ill-curated spaces you have to think. To be innovative in your approach. To know the system and study it. So I have experienced hope, anger, frustration, and hopelessness going through this process. I have triumphed over a few of these emotions. I have not for others.

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For each rejection I received, I can’t tell you I moved on. I perform their burial rites. I read them halfway a hundred times to keep my steamy eyes on the part that says 'we regret to' or 'unfortunately'. I hardly ever make the reading to the last patronizing parts. I cry depending on how much hope and time I had invested in it. Then the next day, I move them to the rejection list of my email, flush my frustration away and get my hopes up afresh for another new amazingly suitable opportunity I want to apply for. I dream it up. I go to Glassdoor to check the salary worth. I go to Google Maps to check the address to know how far or near it is from my home. If it is far, I go on Facebook Marketplace to start searching for a new place to rent. I do this routine for most applications I love, and I do not intend to change soon.

?I have been thinking of what it means to live in ill-curated spaces. The feeling of failure that comes with being rejected not because you are not qualified but because you are not a particular kind of person (I do not dispute that there are opportunities one is not qualified for). I see how people in this category grow bitter over the years. I see how systems have been destroyed over the years because they refuse to acknowledge some of their useful human resources in the appropriate ways and give them CHOICES like everyone else. It baffles me how much we spend as a world treating the impact of the resentments caused by such a system rather than investing in curbing its root causes.

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These are all difficult conversations and we could argue about it in every way. We could argue that discriminatory policies are important because they protect a country's interest against outsiders. We could argue it is unfair, especially if the same countries have drawn migrants with their education systems with the promise of integration. We could have all these conversations. What I have often been troubled with is the total lack of argument about it, or the indifference even.

To be honest, I am not interested in having any philosophical discussion around immigration at the moment. I am just thinking out loud. I will stop now and go attend Andre's birthday, have a good portion of Nigerian Jollof and curate my job application for next week. Today makes it exactly 2 years since I left home in pursuit of a different life. While I wouldn’t trade the journey for anything else, at the moment, it brings a lot of reflection on the validity of aspirations and the worth of hope. However, there is one thing I am clear about; I am grateful for this journey and the courage to keep on at it.