Monday Motivation- Thankful For My Mess

I'd just finished my National Youth Service. I was desperately in need of a job. 'Allowee' had stopped. I practically had nothing. I was sending job applications everywhere.
On one ocassion, I went with a friend from Ibadan to drop our applications at a particular address in Agege. We saw an advert in the Tuesday edition of a popular national newspaper then that they were looking for seamen. Seamen? On a ship? That sounded nice. Anything would do.
But I couldn't swim. Well, I can learn. Qualifications? They said anyone could apply. I cancelled all objections and decided to apply. Problem was we didn't have enough transport fare to and fro Lagos. We had enough just to take us to Lagos from Ibadan.
Not even enough for transport within Lagos. And nothing to bring us back to Ibadan.
Both of us decided to go on a wing and a prayer. We arrived in Lagos and headed towards Agege Guinness. We were going to be seamen. I was already thinking of the trips on the sea. Going to different countries.
The advert posted a certain figure as salary that was too good to be true. With many copies of my cv in an envelope, I was already dreaming. Dreams are free. You might be behind prison walls but your dream can never be imprisoned.
I was in a bus going to Agege but I was already dreaming of the adventures I would have.
The rumbling in my tummy cut my dream short. I became more uncomfortable as the sound became louder. I was pressed. It was like Ali/Foreman's Rumble in the Jungle. I broke out in sweat. I didn't know if I could hold it any longer.
I adjusted in my seat and pressed my buttocks together but it didn't work. I tried to hold my sphincter muscles but any adjustment could spell disaster. I knew if I tried to fart, the fart may turn into a big mess and I will be messed up.
No position was comfortable for me. I couldn't remember eating anything that could bring such discomfort.
I told my friend about my precarious condition and he begged me to hold it. Holding it was a cruel punishment. A world war was going on within. Every bump of that danfo bus made me vulnerable. I felt my resistance experiencing diminishing returns.
I raised my hand and asked the conductor to stop. My friend kept on begging me. I knew the problem. If I come down, he had to do so also and we didn't have enough transport fare for another bus and we were running late for the application had a time limit.
As the driver brought the vehicle to a halt, I jumped off and started running. I ran and held my sphincter muscles while using my hand to hold my buttocks. I saw a market. I asked the first man I saw for the public toilet. He pointed at one.
By this time, my sprint had turned into a stylish swagger. Running by taking long strides was no longer advisable under the circumstance. I saw a man who wanted me to pay before use. I had no time for niceties. You can't negotiate with a man under pressure.
I pushed him aside and went inside to dislodge the contents I carried. What a relief I felt, it felt like heaven! It was then I remembered that I had no tissue paper. If you've experienced it before, say 'Aye'.
My friend was waiting for me outside the toilet. We continued our journey to the advertised location by foot. It wasn't far. When we got to the address, it was one of these lock-up shops. It was locked up. We thought we arrived late.
My friend was already blaming my toilet trip. We were in a mess because of my mess. Expensive mess. All our struggles down the drain because of my mess. The journey from Ibadan. The hustle to get transport fare. The rush to a cyber cafe to type out and print CVs.
We were sad and drained of enthusiasm. I went to the next shop where pure water was being produced. I asked the occupants when the office recruiting seamen will be opened. I saw the way they looked at me- suspiciously. I told them I was an applicant. Then, they opened up to me.
Those offering us jobs as seamen were scammers. Police just raided the place and arrested everyone applicants inclusive) less than 20 minutes before we got there. If not for that toilet trip, we would have been arrested also. Oh, so my mess was good afterall!
We left that place in a hurry. We had transport fare for just one person to get to CMS. We took a bus. When the conductor asked for money, I begged him that I was an unemployed graduate. The guy wanted to 'tear' me a hot slap.
I started talking like a Lagos boy and asking him to cool down. There were butterflies in my tummy. But I shouted back at him. If he doesn't understand that I didn't have any fare, he should at least respect my qualifications. Indeed!
As the altercation went on, someone at the back called the conductor and told him to leave both my friend and I. He paid our transport fare and saved our blushes.
We got off at CMS and split up- so we could raise transport fare back to Ibadan. He went to his uncle in NPA and I went to a friend in Marina. His uncle was absent but I was able to get some money from my friend with which we took a bus back to Ibadan. That was 20 years ago
I'm grateful that God turned my mess into a message. He turned my tests into testimonies. Grateful that I can laugh about such disappointments now. Grateful that I don't look like where I'm coming from. Grateful for the delays and the disappointments.
God used them to make me stronger. I now know that not every delay is bad. I now understand that God can use little delays to avert bigger disasters. I now know not every mess is bad.
Why don't you thank God for your mess today?
Psalms 126:1-3 (KJV)

When the LORD turned again the captivity of Zion, we were like them that dream.
Then was our mouth filled with laughter, and our tongue with singing: then said they among the heathen, The LORD hath done great things for them....
© Bayo Adeyinka
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