The year was 1999. I had gotten married
the previous year as a finalist at the Kenya Polytechnic, where I had been
studying Automotive Engineering.
There I was, with a wife and baby girl, and jobs were not forthcoming. I was surviving on small jobs I got fixing things like hairdryers and other machines around the village. I also made cakes and doughnuts, which my wife and I hawked at our local shopping centre. This was thanks to some short baking courses I had taken previously at the Kiambu Institute of Science and Technology.
As the needs of my small family increased, I realized that my miserable survival methods were not going to be sufficient. I knew I had to do something or else, my family would starve. It was then that I sent out feelers in the ardent search of a job. This turned out to be harder than I had envisioned. Jobs were not available. I was qualified to work either as a mechanic or baker, but that did not seem to give me any advantage. At that time I could have accepted any job. I was at the point of despairing when an opportunity came up – two actually.
My sister had a boss whose wife had a bakery and she required a baker. My brother, on the other hand, had recently been hired by a taxi cab company and they required a driver. These two opportunities came knocking all on the same day. I was spoilt for choice, and I didn’t know what to choose. None of the two was exactly a dream job, but under my circumstances then, both looked quite lucrative.
I had to respond immediately, or lose both opportunities. It was then that I decided to seek advice. I approached my father (now deceased), who was possibly the wisest man I ever knew. My father was never one to answer a question directly. He would make you reason out and consider all options, and then he would guide you into making the best possible decision. When I approached him and explained my dilemma, he listened patiently like he always did while intermittently nodding his head, until I finished.
He then said something that has always been in my heart ever since. He told me that both jobs were good, but if it were him, he would choose the job that allowed him to meet many people. He pointed out that if I chose to become a baker, I would probably enjoy the job because I loved baking. I would however not get the opportunity to meet with people other than the ones I would be working with. If on the other hand I chose to become a taxi driver, I would get to meet with all sorts of people from diverse backgrounds and professions.
Needless to say, after talking with my father, my mind was made up. I was going to take the cab driver’s job. I was excited about the job and couldn’t wait to start. What I didn’t realize then, was how totally unprepared I was for what lay ahead. All I knew was that I had desired to have a job and now I had one. What would eventually unfold would humble me while ushering me into the real world.
There I was, with a wife and baby girl, and jobs were not forthcoming. I was surviving on small jobs I got fixing things like hairdryers and other machines around the village. I also made cakes and doughnuts, which my wife and I hawked at our local shopping centre. This was thanks to some short baking courses I had taken previously at the Kiambu Institute of Science and Technology.
As the needs of my small family increased, I realized that my miserable survival methods were not going to be sufficient. I knew I had to do something or else, my family would starve. It was then that I sent out feelers in the ardent search of a job. This turned out to be harder than I had envisioned. Jobs were not available. I was qualified to work either as a mechanic or baker, but that did not seem to give me any advantage. At that time I could have accepted any job. I was at the point of despairing when an opportunity came up – two actually.
My sister had a boss whose wife had a bakery and she required a baker. My brother, on the other hand, had recently been hired by a taxi cab company and they required a driver. These two opportunities came knocking all on the same day. I was spoilt for choice, and I didn’t know what to choose. None of the two was exactly a dream job, but under my circumstances then, both looked quite lucrative.
I had to respond immediately, or lose both opportunities. It was then that I decided to seek advice. I approached my father (now deceased), who was possibly the wisest man I ever knew. My father was never one to answer a question directly. He would make you reason out and consider all options, and then he would guide you into making the best possible decision. When I approached him and explained my dilemma, he listened patiently like he always did while intermittently nodding his head, until I finished.
He then said something that has always been in my heart ever since. He told me that both jobs were good, but if it were him, he would choose the job that allowed him to meet many people. He pointed out that if I chose to become a baker, I would probably enjoy the job because I loved baking. I would however not get the opportunity to meet with people other than the ones I would be working with. If on the other hand I chose to become a taxi driver, I would get to meet with all sorts of people from diverse backgrounds and professions.
Needless to say, after talking with my father, my mind was made up. I was going to take the cab driver’s job. I was excited about the job and couldn’t wait to start. What I didn’t realize then, was how totally unprepared I was for what lay ahead. All I knew was that I had desired to have a job and now I had one. What would eventually unfold would humble me while ushering me into the real world.
