Probably, you have seen the concise job resignation letter doing the rounds on social media. Date. Reference. Salutation. Body (just two words: bye bye). Signature. That could never be me. I wrote a two pager essay, listing a myriad of complaints (either unsweetened or too sugary tea, now missing at 4pm; breach of trust; unpaid NHIF (medical premiums) dues; micro-management – in all, giving specific dates and instances). On revision of the same, I thanked the company for my time there and noted that it was time for new challenges.
Anyway, I was just sick of the job.
Literally sick… a chest X-ray (nothing wrong with my lungs), slightly
exaggerated blood pressure, fatigue heading to mild depression… My colleagues
were exceptional, but it is true when they say that employees don’t leave a bad
job, rather, a bad boss. On close and dispassionate reflection now, I am partly
to blame. I could have been more assertive, spoken out sooner against
infringement of my rights as an industrious worker… my side of the story.
The three-month notice I had given was up,
only for me to be convinced to stay on for another month. Of course, the inner
politician in me took over as it does when I am under stress: overpromising.
Now, here I was, having promised to stay on for three more months until the
year was ended. A week in, I knew I was lucky if I could hang in there till pay
day. Still, end month happened to be on a Friday and pay was done on that date,
unlike the normal fifth or sixth of the starting month. The time was 3pm, two
hours to close of business. Then and there, I left for home, having
incrementally cleared my desk the previous month. I had suffered for far too
long.
Experts have it that you should have six
months’ worth of expenditures (rent, living expenses, etc.) to tide you over as
savings before leaving a job. Well, I was not going to collapse and die on
someone’s business premises. Then, I had adopted a Kikuyu gospel tune as my
mantra (Nii nyumagaraga, ndihokete Ngai
no ekuhe - As I sojourn for the day, my faith is in the Lord for my
providence), with similar sentiments to the chorus below:
(Chorus)
Elohi tembea,
tembea nami
Usiku wa kiza, tembea nami
Jua kucha-kutwa, tembea nami
Nikiwa nayo pumzi, tembea nami.
(Elohim walk with me
In the dark of night, walk with me
As the sun shines and sets, walk with me
As long as I have breath in me, walk with me).
Anyway, life did
become very interesting after leaving the job without a backup plan (Plan B, in
local lingo). Still, I had come to trust more in the Lord for my providence
(Plan God). And let me tell you Maina… He doesn’t disappoint. Even in the case
of serial sinners like me.
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