I SWEAR IT’S GETTING BETTER: (Coaster biscuit). Its human nature, that sometimes, we falter, become a bit footling; do things we normally wouldn’t dare to do in normal circumstances. But there is always that noxious, loud voice of nuisance that sometimes, drowns the still quiet voice of reason, I am not blaming that former voice. There’s nothing wrong in faltering now and again, but all is wrong when you do not accept, or own up that you can be vulnerable, you can make mistakes, you can falter, and that saying sorry can assuage, the situation and bring the calm, even in the most turbulent of storms. In Nigeria, because of our peculiar ways, in our peculiar nation, situations always push us to listen to that loud voice of nuisance that always subdues that still silent one of reason. My journey to (NEWBISCO COMPANY), in Matori, started at about 8.30am. I opted to go today, because firstly, it’s convenient and secondly, Monday is not only a business day, but that day would blow the fuse at home. My folks would laugh at me, and make fun of my dear “coaster biscuit” and hubby would say “my friend what’s your problem” going to fight people because of biscuit. Yes, that can be his pugnacious attitude, so to keep it quiet and tidy, today was the best day to embark on that journey. Newbisco, clean factory, tucked away right inside the industrial estate and nicely painted. I went in with a calm, professional attitude; I switched on my best voice and spoke nicely to this Indian man that is meant to be the assistant manager. I am here to make a complaint; I didn’t allow him chip in a word when, I poured out the twenty packets of Coaster biscuits, from my yellow colored shop-rite carrier bag, on the first available table. He first, looked at me like, for real? Then feigned ignorance and gave me that surprise Oh I didn’t know this was going on look. Nduka, he yelled in his Indian twang. Nduka, sped out from one corner of the big factory, I couldn’t quite make the direction, not that it mattered. What mattered to me moved from the complaint about the biscuit, to Nduka, addressing this young Indian man as his master. Its okay, to respect your employers, after all they pay your wages for a service rendered, but calling him “master” somehow does not go down well with me. I am a Black woman, a Nigerian. I know what it means to address a foreigner as a master, or where a foreigner insists on being addressed as such. What about calling him his name or better still a Sir? I hate that “indentured servitude, subservient” ways, it sends down very bad, revolting signals down my spine, it triggers an alert button, it acts as a catalyst that pulls out that bad instinct in me that, if not checked or controlled at that moment could snap. “Nduka, can you explain this to the lady” he pointed at the biscuits that scattered all over the table.” “Sir, it’s that time the machine was bad Nduka, explained looking a bit rattled.” Oga Prashad, nodding in affirmation, like he knew about that time, but did nothing about it! Yes, Karakumo, you were right, that they would blame it on packaging default. “We are very sorry madam, please accept my apology on behalf of the company, it won’t happen again.” Prashad, said nicely.” “Madam are you a retailer or a wholesaler?” No, I am none of that, I am a consumer. He roamed my face in utter surprise, with his reddish eyes, like he lost something, he can’t quite make out where he left it. “Madam, you’re a consumer, and you took the trouble to come and complain? It’s because you are not from here, I can tell.” It is rare, Nigerians dont complain He added........Now you see what i am saying? They know us and what do you expect? They would take advantage. This statement nearly blew that subdued fuse on my head, but I held it down and refused to detonate it. Us not complaining, is no excuse for them not trying to get it right, or bothered to do their best. Why do you say that Mr Prashad? I asked curiously! “Nigerians, don’t go that extra length, about anything, at most they would just leave it and moved on. I respect you for doing this, customers are always right, it would help us do better and also check our packaging” He added. That did it for me, my fighting heart melted. “Nduka, go and bring madam one carton of biscuit”. “Master, we have not started putting them in cartons yet, but I can give her fifty pieces in a bag.” “Do that then, Mr Prashad, ordered his servant” Smdh! I felt like screaming at that handsome, Nduka, to call this man a Sir or better still his name, but I couldn’t as I didn’t want to rock his boat, or put sand in his garri. This is what is stirring my blood right now; somehow, I knew, I would get on okay, with my biscuit complaints. I know how to approach these sorts of issues, if Mr Pashad, had given me any attitude, my fastidious side was willing, able and ready, just waiting for the moment. The apology, was good enough, he need not have given me a carton of biscuit, as the twenty would have just done it. The gist of all these are that, let’s learn to stand up for our rights, our liberties are being compromised every day, we are being abused, subjugated, subordinated and taken for granted, by the very people we should be fighting and demanding for what is rightfully our “RIGHTS” because we don’t give a damn. This nonchalant, I-do-not-care-nature, God is in control attitude, should stop. We should correct the wrongs, and stand up for what is right and against what is wrong. It is not their fault, if they insist on being wrong, but it is your fault, if you allow them to continue. You go to England, buy a dress or whatever, go home and then change your mind, you take it back to the shops for a refund, but you would sit back here and allow them take liberty, because God is in control. No God is in control, but you are, get off your asses and do what is right. It’s your destiny, it’s in your hands, write it. The government of our nation, we have seen can’t do that much, but there’s a part you and I can play. Nigeria, can work if we dare to care, and help her be right. The desired change is in us, it is us that would change her, to what we want and expect of her, not them. We can’t set a certain moral rectitude for them, but sit here and do nothing. Result I believe. For Nduka’s sake, please patronize Newbisco, makers of coaster biscuit, it’s a nice biscuit too.
Posted on: Sat, 06 Dec 2014 13:22:50 +0000
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