Chapter 1: The Sack Letter Land

I was sacked from the company.

The day dem hand me sack letter, na real gbege. For this same company wey I help build from scratch, sweat dey drop for ground like say na rainy season. As I dey remember all the times I stay for office till generator man dey chase me, the thing pain me. But you see, na Naija we dey—sometimes, as e be say dem fit throw you away for office, na so e dey sweet if dem go later rush beg you come back. Na me build the foundation of our main project, brick by brick, code by code—still, dem pursue me like say I no follow.

E shock me. I dey reason say, after all my midnight wahala, dem go at least value my effort. But Naija office politics no dey ever finish. The kind betrayal wey fit happen for boardroom fit pass Nollywood film. You go dey see person wey you help last month, na him go support your sack this month.

The CEO even add salt to injury, disgrace me for front of everybody, dey talk say I just dey occupy space, say I no sabi anything.

That kain public shame, e dey enter bone. I just stand dey look, my throat dry, but I swallow the pain. For Naija, if dem shame you for office, na dem dey expect make you beg, but I no gree. I keep my dignity, chest out, face straight.

But him no know say na only me fit solve the wahala wey dey hide inside the main code.

As e dey pain me, I just dey think say, make e try dey find who go fix that code if e spoil. For this tech wey everybody dey rush, e get as e be—no be by power, na who sabi road.

Very soon, dem go beg me come back.

Inside me, I dey swear say, if e reach that point, dem go see real Kunle. For Naija, sometimes na when you commot dem go know your worth. Shebi dem dey do gra-gra now; dem go soon humble.