Good afternoon, I’m here for an interview

Two weeks ago, I was sitting in a small café in Yaba, laptop open, scrolling through endless job boards.

You know the drill—LinkedIn, Indeed, Jobberman, and random “career opportunities” groups on WhatsApp.

Every ad seemed to want a “unicorn candidate” with 10 years’ experience for an entry-level salary.

I sipped my lukewarm cappuccino, staring at my reflection in the glass window. My shirt was wrinkled, my CV folder had coffee stains, and my eyes had that “I’ve been ghosted by too many recruiters” look.

Then my phone buzzed.

Caller: “Hi, this is Kemi from BrightPath Consulting. Are you available for an interview today?”

I blinked. I didn’t remember applying to BrightPath Consulting. My heart raced.

“Uh, yes. What time?” I texted back, pretending to be calm.

Caller: “In 1 hour. Can you make it to Lekki Phase 1?”

I froze. My shirt looked like it had survived a wrestling match. But then, something inside me said, “Stand up. Go. This could be it.”

I jumped into a Bolt. The driver, a middle-aged man with a cap that read Hustle Till Payday, looked at me through the rearview.

“You look like you’re about to propose or something,” he said.

I laughed nervously. “Interview. Last-minute.”

He chuckled. “Ah. Just remember, if they ask you about your weakness, don’t say suya at midnight.”

We both laughed. It actually calmed me.

The office building was intimidating—glass walls, polished tiles, the kind of lobby that smelled like money and ambition. The receptionist had the kind of smile that made you doubt your entire fashion choices.

“Good afternoon, I’m here for an interview,” I stammered.

She glanced at me, then said, “Take the elevator to the 5th floor. HR will be with you shortly.”

I stepped into the elevator, staring at my reflection in the shiny doors. My wrinkled shirt mocked me again.

Inside the conference room, three people sat across from me. One of them, a tall man in glasses, kept staring. He looked… familiar.

Halfway through the interview, he finally spoke.

“Do you remember me?” he asked.

I squinted. My brain went into overdrive.

Then it hit me. He was the same guy who interviewed me for another company last year—the one where I froze when asked, “Where do you see yourself in five years?” I had mumbled something about “still breathing.” It was embarrassing.

My heart sank. I thought, “Great. I’m finished. He’ll never hire me.”

But then, he smiled.

“You’ve improved. Back then, you were nervous. Today, you’re sharp. I like growth.”

The room went silent. My palms were sweaty.

Finally, he leaned forward and said:

“You’re hired. We need someone who’s been through failure and still shows up.”

I walked out of that building in a daze. The sun felt brighter, the traffic even looked beautiful. I called my mom.

“Mom, I got the job!”

She screamed so loud I had to pull the phone away.

The Bolt driver from earlier texted me later: “How did it go? Did you conquer?”

I replied: “Yes. Growth won me the job.”

That day taught me something about the job search journey—failure isn’t the end. Every rejection, every awkward interview, every sleepless night scrolling through job ads—it all builds you for the moment when preparation finally meets opportunity.

So if you’re on your career and job search journey, don’t give up. That next call, that next interview—it might just be the one that changes everything.

And sometimes, the person who once saw you fail might be the same person who hires you later—because growth is the real flex.