I never believed that at this age, I would go through the trauma of being bullied all over again
Earlier in my career, I faced traumatic bullying.
My first job was in an unregistered Advertising agency
My madam was schizophrenic. She would shout at me, verbally abuse me, denigrate me and generally push me to the ground all of the time
The second time was as an early stockbroker and this was worse
The MD was also crazy. He would shout, call us insane names, spit inanities at us and threaten us with the sack daily
I developed physical symptoms from both episodes.
I became anxious and fearful. My chest would tighten up, and I would be shaking at work.
I would cry on Sunday evenings and beg my mum not to allow me to go to work
But I was the breadwinner, my father had lost his job so my mum would pray for me and push me out of the door
On my way, I would be so afraid, that I would not be able to speak and even lose my way to work most times
One day, I forgot a whole car at the stock exchange car park cos we had failed to sell some shares and just knew that we would receive a bullocking
It was insane when we got back to the office. He roared like a Lion, poured invectives on us, reminded us of how useless we were and wondered where he got this useless and worthless bunch from
At this point, I was in tears, the youngest of the three stockbrokers and he concentrated on me telling me that I would amount to nothing and that I was a weakling
Angela, the dutiful secretary, jumped in to save me and, in tears, screamed at him – Dr, leave the boy alone. He is a little boy, which made him madder as he turned and walked back into his office screaming – lazy mother fucker.
It took me years of rehabilitation, working with some very smart and intelligent bosses starting from the lithe but seriously intelligent Hajia Nabillah Peterside, Mai Mustapha and Akin Kekere-Ekun at Habib to start my healing process
Mr Kekere-Ekun did the most even though he didn’t know what he was doing as he would work up to my desk to just ask how I was doing and I would climb up to his office to have long discussions
Henry Lariyetan at BGL, Segun Oluyori at Magnum, and Wale Oluwo at BGL all helped me complete the healing
Although I faced some level of bullying at BGL from just one person, the charisma of Albert Okumagba and the warmth of the whole team, including people like Omini Ofem, who would come at me and say – why you dey fear ? No fear, stand up to am- helped me so much.
At Aquila, I faced another round where Nnamdi would rail and rail and rail, but by this time, I was stronger and railed back, and like all bullies, he would run back with his tail behind his legs.
So when I now met this one, I was enamoured.
I had loved him as a child. His eccentricity attracted my attention and I loved his bohemian style
I followed him from my youth to my adult age and vowed to write a book on him.
The opportunity came as he struggled to get the book off the ground and I offered to write my own book on him since I had always wanted to do the same
He said I should collaborate with him, and I foolishly agreed.
I didn’t know I had signed up to work with the devil
He had offered the first writer £5,000, but I asked for £1,500 since he was my hero.
He paid the first £500 and turned into a monster.
I had to come to him physically no matter what. The fact that he lived far away at Abraham Adesanya was not his business
If I got to him 5 minutes late, he would scream and call me names. I started having the feelings that I last felt those long years ago
I tried to explain to him that the atmosphere wasn’t helping my creativity, but he wouldn’t listen.
He would sit in his living room, dictate to me and expect me to write and finish at that point
The hours were gruelling with no rest. I would drive three hours from Yaba to him and sit for another five hours to listen to his disjointed stories filled with fabrication and lies
One day, we agreed to meet at my Ikoyi office at 10 am..I called at 9.30am to say lets move to 10.30am, he agreed
I got to him at 10.25am and he attacked me for keeping him waiting in his car since 10am
I fought back and threatened to slap him back if he dared to lay a hand on me, and he pushed back and pretended as if nothing had happened when we ended up in my landlord’s office.
The book was low quality and I had started wondering if I would be doing myself justice by allowing my name on it
It was filled with inconsistent information that he fed me. He had forgotten so much critical information about his formative years, and his educational sequencing was so wrong that the Book would be doing the public a great disservice if it came out.
He would threaten me – you lucky, if na me of before, I for don show you- he would say time without number
By this time, I had stopped being scared and would laugh at him
Then his assistant – a dainty old lady with wrinkled skin started joining the parade also trying to bully me
When we agreed on a meeting time, she would call me five minutes before the time – Edgar where are u, hope you are not coming late and I would explain to her that the journey from Yaba to Ajah and beyond was filled with all sorts of obstacles and that if I was 10 minutes late it doesn’t matter and they will scowl when I walk in
This didn’t deter them from coming to my own house one hour late or even two hours late and made as if everything was ok
Finally, after going through that harrowing experience, I finished the book.
All 57,000 words, and I said, let’s get an Editor, and I got one, and she charged N300k, and he said, help me pay, na January be this.
I smiled and said no problem, and I asked for my balance of £1,000, and he said – abeg bare with me, I don bury too many people; I go pay you; give me time.
This was classic. A bully and a user, but I was still ok working with them till he did it.
He asked for the editor’s number and called her behind my back to see him.
She said she lived in Mowe and he said he would pay her fare to and fro
And I wondered when she told me. He had money for your fare and didn’t have money for ur N100k deposit?
So I called the loony Assistant to complain, and she dropped it – Edgar, you wrote nothing. It was all my idea that you plagiarised
Oh, my God. That was it. The barely literate fool, with a fake identity and a skin condition saying I plagiarised her?
That was it, and I called off my service; he called to apologise on her behalf and said – na me you dey work with ignore her, and I did and said, my Fada.
Then, the next morning, he comes to the group and calls me silly…..
I abused him, called him unprofessional, and walked away.
I sent him an email and copied my lawyer, stating very clearly that he could go ahead with his book but without my name.
I dashed him the manuscript and my balance and I walked away from the most manaical project I have ever found myself
I woke up to his missed calls reminding me of his verbal debauchery, and I blocked the son of a dog.
Never will I fall to a bully. Never and not at my age.
I will be 56 years old this year, and if I no see food chop make I siddon for my house, I no go die.
He can use my £1,000 to buy more make-up, he certainly needs a lot to cover his broken character
Indisime
Duke of Shomolu
