NIGERIAN ABROAD

Time : 18:30GMT
City: Massachusetts
Location: Gibbett Hill Grill (Restaurant)
Address: 61 Lowell Rd. Groton, MA 01450

Every hand in the kitchen was on deck. Mr Dowell, an elite man had paid for the space. His daughter's engagement was that day and they had the party over at Gibbett Hill Grill.

We were to deliver nothing but eliteness.
Cozy mood, soft music, dim lights, a live band was contracted. It was all about the girl's side, wonder why weddings are really about the girl's side? I wonder too.

I came in 30minutes later than start time. Kimberly had called my phone thrice, followed by a Dm "Hey! Where are you? Derrick is raining ice stone"

Mr Derrick was the kitchen supervisor, quickly tempered and rash. I was finishing from my other job and tried to rush down to the restaurant.

I was one of the best hands. Part of the menu for the evening was grilled cheese appetizer and steak frites with truffled shoestring fries and bone marrow butter.

When I got in, I heard Mr Derrick passing orders in my section. I took off my coat and hung at the drawer, it had began raining and I was a bit drained. I tried to avoid him but he had sighted me already

"Hey man. You come in by this time for the occasion. You have earned a cut from your money. No complete payment"

"Mr Derrick, something came up that's why I came late. Where as the event hasn't gone deep"

"Somethings gone deep with your head man. It is black, black that's all I see. I don't do mediocre and you know it. No full payment!"

I wasn't going to take his rashness, not today. I had a tough day already, the rain and cold didn't help. Cabs suddenly were scarce and not wanting to head towards Lowell Rd.

"I'm trying to be cool Derrick, no need for harsh words"

"Just go back to work blacky"

Blacky didn't mean complexion to Mr Derrick, it meant racism.

"Sorry what did you say?"

"People from your country don't take things serious. Mediocre minds every where, under developed place. You are in Massachusetts, embrace development." he spoke in an American accent and turned his back to leave.

I was very furious, fist folded, I landed a good blow on his back that sent him crawling.

"That's for every Nigerian you've insulted your entire life"

The kitchen, was rowdy. Kimberly, a fine American young girl ran towards me, pulling me out of the kitchen to the foyer"

"You shouldn't have done that. You know he talks waywardly. You know you can't stay around here now. Get going, I got your back on this. We'll cover for you"

There were still some good minded Americans. People like Derrick is the reason why racism still exists in some parts of the country.

I knew i wasnt going back to Gilbbett, I had lost my job for hitting a senior staff. I defended my country yet I knew i couldn't go back survive in that same country. Truly living here and being at 3-4 jobs was better than returning home to blooming poverty.

We defend with the hope that it will be better but deep down, the truth stings us, our government doesn't look any better. There is definitely no home with poverty.

My search for a third job began. Still something that had to do with cooking. I love cooking. I have tried a couple of places, nothing yet. I really need a third to balance up bills Mehn!

I'm a Nigerian abroad and I speak the mind and toils of Nigerians abroad, the ones who are yet to find their footing. I am Boluwatife and just like my name implies
"as God wills" let me survive abroad.