Whose Picture Was on Your Wall?

It’s always fun to see children in career day outfits whenever their photos pop up on social media. Their wide-eyed innocence is palpable as they flash bright smiles while wearing micro-sized wigs and gowns (for the ones who aspire to be lawyers), tiny ward coats and stethoscopes (for the ones who dream of becoming doctors), and the small helmets (for the ones who see an engineering degree somewhere in their future). Whether or not they hold on to these dreams as they grow older is anyone’s guess, but it’s beautiful to see the ambition and enthusiasm on display as they stand at the front end of their classrooms, eagerly describing where they see themselves in another two or three decades. For those of us who can’t remember when exactly we celebrated our tenth birthday, these mental images create a strong feeling of nostalgia, taking us back to a time when all we worried about was lunch money during break time.

Growing up in the late 1980s and early 1990s, we had our parents fill in the roles of superheroes in our lives. They may not have worn capes or defied gravity like Superman, Wonder Woman, Spiderman, or Captain Marvel, but we witnessed how they juggled multiple jobs, broke their backs to make sure that we never ran out of milk or eggs for breakfast, and sacrificed hours of sleep to keep our homes running. Our parents didn’t need to have excess muscle or wear uber-tight fabric, but the way they conducted their lives made us feel that they were invincible, super-human, and almost incapable of dying. This is why it was easy for us to aspire to be like them or fall in line with whatever vision they had for our future careers.

For some reason, however, these things didn’t apply to me. When I look back, I realise that I changed my mind concerning my future calling on more occasions than one. During the six-year-old days of my life, I wanted to be a policeman after watching Jackie Chan perform kung fu flicks in “First Strike”, “Operation Condor” and “Project A”, but I got a stinging rebuke from my aunt, Obiajulu when I mentioned it to her. A few years later, after reading more about the antics of Nigerian policemen on major highways, I understood what she meant.

In my early teens, it appeared that Medicine was the go-to option. After all, I excelled in the natural sciences and topped the class on several occasions. But senior secondary school was a different kettle of fish, I simply couldn’t understand Physics, and I was unfortunate to have a teacher who made me hate the subject even more, so I knew that at some point, I would have to bid goodbye to the sciences. I had also begun to fall in love with History and Literature, so by the end of SS2, I had switched to Art class, much to the displeasure of my teachers and my father.

Opting to study Law was not the easiest of choices. My father felt that it was not lucrative enough, and my friends felt that I was too shy and introverted. However, these reservations that they expressed only spurred me on to prove a point to myself. I picked a JAMB form, aced the examinations in one sitting, and by January 2008, I found myself in a sea of individuals wearing white shirts and black trousers.

These days, I am a Content Writer in the Marketing and Corporate Communications Department of one of Africa’s leading financial institutions. How did I get here? Sometime in the early 2010s, I discovered that I loved writing. I had been called to the Nigerian Bar and had in fact commenced my career as a lawyer, but I suddenly found that my writing portfolio kept expanding, and before long, a hobby morphed into a career, and I had to make the pivot. I have gained significant experience at both ends over the years, and I dare say I’m pretty good at what I do.

In the years leading up to this, I have also had short but eventful stints as an OAP (On-Air-Personality), a Master of Ceremony, an editor, a researcher, and (surprisingly) a customer service executive. Living in Lagos makes you do many things, but then again, maybe I have slowly metamorphosed into the superhero I once watched on Cadbury Breakfast Television nearly three decades ago. I wouldn’t be wrong if I said I am a man of many parts, and in the end, maybe I didn’t need that photo of Arnold Schwarzenegger on my wall back in 1994. Who knows, I am probably superhuman, even without acknowledging it.