1+1+1=4

The only thing that keeps me going these days is that soon I shall be out of this department. I have spoken to all the people I need to speak to, just waiting now for the offer(s) and the package.

The Ghanaian mafia in my current department is getting stronger. These are the ones that said I was spreading poison in the group, I say if I am, it is only because there are so many rats. The criteria to join their gang is that you have to be born in Ghana, having worked in the Ghana office is a plus, if you have worked in the Ghana office it must be in the supply chain department, but to be honest if you work in any other department then you probably wouldn’t want to join the gang. You have to come to the office an hour before time and leave earliest 6.30 and you have to have an air that you are the only person in the world that is working and the whole company will collapse if you take even 30 minutes away from the office. They will bitch about you behind your back, and complain that they are overloaded, but lo and behold, you take it upon yourself to speak up for the team, especially an outsider, nobody has your back.

Today, school prefect, well all I can say is that I am holding back my anger. It’s been little things here and there, she’s alright most days but she takes on too much, which is fine, don’t complain about it either, it just becomes irritating. So she is passing out water, there are 4 people on the line, she hands out 3. She did this to me yesterday, I saw it as an oversight, she did apologise. Today I still saw it as an oversight, so just wanted to correct her. Just one water and the chick goes buckwild. Ssh, she tells me, I’ve already counted. Well there is a problem in your counting as you missed one luv. You would have thought it was from her own pocket, but oh well.

Then there was the break time saga, break was supposed to be at 10.20, it was 11 and we were still waiting. I did not have breakfast and all the talking was making my head hurts. An hour later I got a text from the French bird to tell me that she has already taken a snack, so being the naughty school girl I am, I took mine too. School prefect came out, styled it out that she was going to the loo, I know this because she was huffing and puffing as she went back into the room. A little while later the group came out on break, I could here her complaining that “people” had came out to eat early given rise to other staff coming to pick at the snacks leaving some people without. Well if you keep a girl waiting too long! I went downstairs and saw that a few more colleagues had thought of the idea before me or the french chick, having got tired of the endless discussions and the boss rattling on feeling jiggy at the sound of his voice, had taken their snack and went back to work.

Just before then, school prefect says to me “can I have a word”, thought she was coming to tell me off for the spring roll I took. She pulls out the menu and says (I would say ask but it came out more of an order than a question “did you pick a starter and desert”, she huffed out. First of all, I already told her I was going to the place last week, I also gave the group the feedback, we even had a brief by the way discussion yesterday. However, now she was pissed “what if someone chooses a 40ghs meal and another chooses a 20ghs, it would balance itself out in the end I thought. She didn’t give me a chance to respond, instead she chose to talk over me. The worst thing you can do is talk over me, it’s rude and uncoof and it makes my blood boil. If you don’t want to hear what I have to say, then don’t bother asking me the question. So I just walked away (the chicken spring rolls were lovely by the way).

We went back into the meeting room and she started scrutinizing the menu, I am sure she will put a cap on what we can order. Whatever the case, the boss has authorized the petty cash so whatever, we spend less then our budget every year, while others go on adventure weeks in Senegal, I personally don’t see what the big deal is once the boss has approved but my aim was to speak to her as little as possible today so I didn’t tell her that fact, she’ll find out on Friday.

The next thing is as I said, she acts like the only one who is working. She is not running the workshop but has an opinion for everything. As the facilitator was talking she would use her category as an example and then point out to the people their mistakes. She would not call them by name mind you “you, Nigeria” she would say, the 2 Nigerian boys would look up “are you listening”, “are you listening because I will be checking”. You see why I call her school prefect.

I couldn’t really concentrate much after that, when somebody pisses me off, even seeing them out of the corner of my eye makes me want to throw something at them, so I went down and did some work until lunchtime. Lunch was not as nice as yesterday, greek salad, pasta with meatballs, jollof rice and chicken or fish, I picked the chicken, a bit dry but the food did arrive an hour earlier and even it that warmer thingy it can’t stay hot for that long. It was ok though, did the trick, and I was satisfied.

The next task after lunch was to collect the money. A rat of a girl who spends most of the day flirting with guys asked me to come back in 20 minutes because chatting on the phone to whoever was so important. I tried to explain to her that I wanted to just order the money but would come back for it Friday, could I leave the form, she said no. Well I told her the amount I wanted anyway, I know that tomorrow she will have forgotten and will tell me she does not carry such an amount. I’ll deal with her tomorrow, as I am still reeling of the rude little girl who spoke over me earlier.

They say Ghanaians are the most welcoming pleasant people in Africa. Give me a Nigerian any day, at least you know where you are with them. Ghanaians (some and not all) love post and they love feeling on top of the world. These type of people are educated fools, rude and obnoxious unless they can derive some benefit from you or are a lighter shade of brown. The worst are middle management and those who have a title like coordinator or specialist.

Well all I say is be nice to those on the way up you may meet them on the way down, you may even meet them on the way up and they are way above you and have the power to push you down.

I’m back in the workshop, the agenda says 5, we are still having discussions, the lights have gone off, but I gess you don’t need electricity to run off your mouth. I am not sure we’ll be out before 6.30 but its all for a good cause.

All this drama and I didn’t get a chance to tell you about how my career movement is going. Hopefully in my next blog after a cup of tea and when my blood has cooled down a bit.

About efiasworld

The black Bridget Jones and an English woman in Ghana
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s