Omo Don’t Dull

Its Friyaaaaaay.

My right foot was lazily on the accelerator as I drove to work.


I heaved a sigh of relief as gush of cold Friday wind blew on my face. 

The long-awaited day. 

Why is this Friday so freakin important to me? 


This week has been fun and stressful, and I had been waiting for this Friday so the cup can pass. 

My role as the Head of Innovation at GDM Group was getting more interesting. 

No, I am not creating a revolutionary app that can make you disappear from the mother earth nor a drone that will wipe out the xenophobic South Africans. I was simply finding a balance between managing myself and others, inclusive. 


I have always been a master of myself. 

I know how to manage Victor as I create route-to-market strategies for brands across different channels but combining that with managing others seems a herculean task for me. Not to worry, I can deal.


This week, I was in sync 2-4-7 with Junaid, a wizard programmer building a new web integration platform for Eko Innovation Centre, coordinating the overall activities, and troubleshooting diverse challenges, testing all the links and buttons, managing crises. 


I was co-creating with Justin as we build content for Project Cohort and other projects.

I was also collaborating with Bryan on the UX interface for EIC website; also LASACO and EkoiCentre designs; and working with Tunde on the Wellness On The Go project. 


I sat on Project Cohort myself, pulling in Donald as a support and Project Advisor, especially in assembling and communicating with Twitter influencers that will propagate the project. 


I also attended a couple of internal and external meetings, not to mention the snips-and-drops of ideas and suggestions here and there. Then my growing side-hustles, and the pressure to deliver my personal projects – a new book and my website, 


Morning Fresh brief was on my table and the presentation was a few days away. The deal was to create an activation plan that delivers internal, consumer, and trade launches. My entire week revolved around my work and the romantic Ojodu-Berger traffic. 


By Tuesday, I was tired. 

By Tuesday, I was praying for Friday. 

By Tuesday, I already had a headache that lasted me for the week. 


I went to VA’s office on Wednesday to rant about my fix and asked how he was able to manage about 300 people. 

‘Welcome to the future Victor, I’m glad you’re having this discomfort because it’s a sign of growth. You’re evolving from a one-man thing into a group thing. This is a good problem, go and enjoy your headache.’ 


VA said and busted into raucous laughter.


I kept driving. 


I switched the car radio to a channel where an OAP presented an unbalanced view of South Africa’s xenophobia. Someone called in and referred to them as disgusting sadists. 

Maybe, maybe not. I shrugged.

I checked my Twitter account and people were ranting about how they would paralyze all South African investment in Nigeria. Duh! 

I kept driving.

I ignored a call from Zee.

I’m fucking driving m-e-n. 


One FRSC truck passed by and the officials stared intently at me, earnestly looking for where their ‘next meal’ would come from. 

Try again nigga. Call the next guy. 

I drove on. 


Then I noticed this blue Toyota Corolla in front of me that I had religiously followed for over 10 minutes. I practically replicated all its moves until I discovered the car had controlled my last 10 minutes. I checked my speedo and I was doing sixty.

What?! The road was fucking free.

I pulled out angrily behind him and faced the new free world, racing up the Anthony-Gbagada-Oworosoki expressway. 


Breezily, my speedometer rose to 100, then 120. 

Yeah, I felt good.

I started breathing again as I reflected over my last 10 minutes of how I allowed someone to dictate my pace to the future. And until I discovered that the dude was limiting me, I remained behind – slow, grounded, dancing to the tune of others. 


Maybe that was his comfort zone, not mine, but I however allowed him to put me there and trudged along slowly and dejectedly.

Until I woke up. 

Sometimes in life, our line managers, role models, mentors, influencers, and leaders are the reason we move at a certain speed because their pace or speed, directly and indirectly, affects ours. 


So who are you following? If they are not going at the pace you want, pull out! 

If your line manager is your role model because he’s spent 35 years on the rope, but getting you slowed down and expects you to operate at his pace, pull out! 

Its your fucking life, not theirs. 

You can’t be a Ferrari F1 car and be driving at the pace of a Nissan Mini-Bus. 



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