The first day of my life

I wanted to be a scientist so I went to school. I dreamed of having my laboratory and discovering

permanent cures to terrible diseases like sickle cell anaemia and cancer, so I took my education very

seriously. I have a university degree from a prestigious federal university for that matter, but Nigeria

happened to me.

I had big dreams, I wanted to change the world. But dreams don't come to pass overnight. For those of us privileged to be born with chewing sticks in our mouths (never seen a silver spoon in my life), it is usually a long walk to freedom. I completed NYSC about a year ago with high hopes and for the past twelve months, I have lived entirely on hope. It has not been easy.

The first two months after NYSC, I spent my hopes lavishly applying to big international humanitarian agencies like WHO, UNICEF, Save the Child, all of them. I got no response but my hope balance was still huge so I shifted to big international financial institutions like PwC, Deloitte (the toilet, haha), KPMG, AfDB, and Citibank – I laugh at myself in retrospect. I should have accepted the truth when their polite letters of rejection started dropping in but I still had a lot of hope in the bank. I moved on to ECOWAS, AU, UN and the Commonwealth. I woke up suddenly one night and checked my hope balance, I was devastated.

In the morning I rebuked and lectured myself on how not to be stupid.

I refocused my lens to the Nigerian range. Polaris Bank was my first shot, then UBA, GTB, Sterling

Bank, Stanbic IBTC, Leadway Assurance (an interesting gist there), and then microfinance banks.

When I applied to Zenith Bank and was rejected again I poured out my lamentations to a friend. My friend asked me one question: who do you know?

I wanted a six-figure paying job in this our Nigeria and I did not know anybody that mattered. What

audacity! What an insult to the very foundation on which the banking sector in Nigeria was founded.

By then I was going broke on hope. I gathered the little hope I had left and shamefully applied to

NSCDC – I know the website of NSCDC -, Nigerian Police Force, NDLEA and FRSC (local boy done surfer). The matter of "who do you know" still rose against me each time I was required to provide three referees.

At last, I took the last hope in my account and applied for a teaching job in a private primary school. Of course, I got the teaching job (I was overqualified) on a salary of N20,000 ($55.4) per month. And I started saving up hope for the future immediately.

On Boxing Day, I sat on my bed and got thinking about how 2020 would be. A random thought floated mischievously into my private conference: taxi drivers make more money than teachers in Nigeria. The thing pained my hand. My hand, ignoring all my excuses, picked up my phone and registered on Bolt(Taxify) in my name. I did not even have a car o, but my eyes (those guys connived against me) directed me to my late dad's Toyota Corolla 2010 parked close to my bedroom. The car was still in good condition so I agreed to the plan. Yesterday I officially became a Bolt driver. How the mighty have fallen.

This is my long walk – or drive – to freedom. I want to make this phase of my life interesting and memorable so I have decided to keep a daily journal of my most interesting passengers and events on

the road. Let's see how far hope can drive us in a year. Take this ride with me, happy people, let's make these days count too. Watch me take the highway. I still have big dreams; I can still change the world starting here.

I present to you your favourite taxi driver. Bless me.

Music, please!