It was the last working day of the month. Unfortunately, it was also the middle of the week. As was the practice at that time, all members of staff were tasked with completing their bit to the fulfilment of the team’s objectives.  All outstanding vouchers had to be entered. All internal and customer accounts were to be regularized. Some members of staff focused on securing last minute incomes to the branch’s portfolio. A lot of work went into defending our position and ensuring profitability before the end-of-day program would be run by the technical crew.

Usually, we would be done a few hours after close of business; say by 9p.m. On this particular day, at 9p.m. we had barely scratched the surface. ‘Dinner’ was organized for us, seeing that we would all be required to putting in some more hours. It was a race against time.

Good thing, we completed all outstanding tasks at the nick of time.

Many of us lived in close proximity to the office so getting home that night was not such a chore. I was one of the very few who wouldn’t dare to go home that night because of the distance. Besides, my area of residence was notorious and somewhat unsafe at night. One of my colleagues was so kind to invite me over to her place for the night. She offered me something to eat and a change of clothes for the night. I took a quick bath and washed my underpants. I went to sleep soon afterwards. The night seemed really short as we were awoken to the blaring of our alarms in no time. Worse still, was the fact that all efforts to air my underwear yielded little result as it was still damp the next morning.

Going to my house before resuming at my office was a no-no because of the distance. I visited a few shops; wondering if I could get to buy a pack of disposable or new panties, but I found none. Sigh! I had to manage with the damp underwear until the close of business that day. 

As I commuted home, all I could think was why had I not asked

my host if she had some disposable panties or even new ones? How many times have I had to ‘wear damp underpants’, not in the literal sense but figuratively? How often have I had to make do with living with subliminal feelings of self-pity, concealed mediocrity or masked inadequacy? How often have I hard to bear my sufferings alone; keeping and hiding my struggles rather than seeking help? A lot of times we say that he that wears the shoe knows where it pinches. That, in fact is true. The bigger concern though should be what do you intend to do with the pinching shoe or the ache it’s causing. Do we really explore possible solutions or would we rather stay uncomfortable, wearing damp underpants the entire day?

I can say with certainty that the experience was one of the many that I will not forget in a hurry.