[STORY] Congratulations! Your Employment Offer Letter is Here

I still remember that morning clearly.

My phone buzzed before dawn, lighting up the darkness of my small apartment like it was announcing a miracle.

Subject: Congratulations! Your Employment Offer Letter is Here!

For a second, I just stared at the screen — half-asleep, half-disbelieving. After months of sending CVs, attending countless virtual interviews, and surviving ghosted emails, this was it.

I had finally landed a role at one of the biggest real estate marketing firms in Lagos.

My hands trembled as I opened the email. The pay? Way better than anything I’d ever earned. The title? Digital Marketing Associate. Benefits? Everything I had been praying for — health insurance, flexible hours, and career growth opportunities.

I jumped up, did a small dance in my boxers, and screamed, “We made it!”

But before I could even reply to accept, my phone rang again.

“Hello, good morning,” said a soft female voice. “Please, am I speaking to Mr. Lawrence?”

“Yes, you are,” I replied, still beaming.

“This is Ada, from HR. Congratulations once again! We’re excited to have you onboard. Kindly sign and return the offer letter by 3 PM today so we can finalize your onboarding schedule.”

“Of course,” I said quickly. “I’ll do that right away.”

She laughed. “Take your time to read it well. We believe in informed decisions here.”

The rest of the morning went by in a blur.

I brewed coffee, opened my laptop, and started drafting my official resignation letter from my old job — a content role at a startup that barely paid enough to cover my rent. I had already been mentally checked out there for weeks.

But then, halfway through typing ‘Dear Manager’, my phone rang again.

It was my colleague, Ife.

“Guy, have you seen Twitter?” she asked in a shaky voice.

“No. Why?”

“They just announced — the company is downsizing. Half of us are losing our jobs.”

My heart dropped. “Wait, what?!”

She sighed. “Yeah. They said it’s due to restructuring. HR just sent emails. Check yours.”

I refreshed my inbox.

Nothing.

I refreshed again.

Still nothing.

Then, another ping — from my manager.

Subject: Emergency Meeting at 12 Noon.

I sat there frozen, laptop open, the unsigned offer letter glowing on one tab and the Zoom link for the “emergency meeting” on another.

It felt like my whole career — my entire sense of security — was balancing on a seesaw.

At 12:00 PM sharp, we joined the call. My manager, Kunle, looked pale and worn out. “Team,” he began, “today is one of the hardest days of my career. The board has decided to let go of some members due to financial constraints. I’m so sorry.”

One by one, people’s faces disappeared as HR messaged them privately.

Then I got the email.

Subject: Termination Notice.

My chest tightened. I didn’t even open it. I just sat there, staring at the screen as the meeting ended.

I had just been fired — the same day I got hired somewhere else.

That night, I didn’t eat.

I just sat on my balcony, listening to Lagos traffic hum in the distance, thinking about how fragile life could be.

I looked at the offer letter again. The signature line blinked at me like it was waiting for my decision.

But something didn’t feel right anymore.

I re-read Ada’s words: “Take your time to read it well. We believe in informed decisions here.”

So, I did. Slowly this time.

Buried deep in the contract was a clause I had missed earlier — a “non-compete” clause that would tie me to the company for three years, with restrictions on any side business, freelancing, or even personal projects.

Basically, it meant giving up everything else I was building — my small creative agency, my YouTube channel, my dream of financial independence.

The job looked perfect on paper, but it wasn’t me.

I closed my laptop.

Then, for the first time in my adult life, I said out loud, “No.”

I didn’t sign it.

The next few months were hard. I had no steady income, just a few freelance gigs and my savings. But I kept creating.

I built my personal brand online, shared honest career stories, helped people optimize their LinkedIn profiles, and started consulting for small businesses.

Slowly, things began to change.

My posts started going viral. A few weeks later, a foreign startup reached out — not just to hire me, but to partner with me as their Nigerian marketing lead.

They didn’t send me an offer letter.

They sent me a collaboration agreement.

That day, I smiled and whispered, “This one, I’ll sign.”