Although I need a new job so-so bad, that job does not have to be singer Eric Senderi’s. No, no, no! I do not have that time and physical muscle to haul baskets of sweet potatoes and sacks of grain on stage before my performance. I would have loved to venture into pastoral work, simply because I love money, and most pastors today are rumored to be rich. The problem with this job (or calling) is that apparently in our times, the ear drums of many believers seem to be clogged with wax, which wax only serves to block their ears to The Word. In order to cope with this problem of believers’ ears being clogged with wax, some preachers seem to be trying all sorts of desperate measures to drive their point home. The other day I caught a radio sermon in which the pastor was telling his flock that “when you belieeeeeeeve …, God can make you to ride in the president’s car for the whole day”. All I could do was conclude that perhaps preaching in this day and age had become a tough calling,‘calling’ for more creativity and imagination. But why hunt for juicy jobs from far and wide, in unfamiliar territory, when there are doable jobs right under my nose? And when we say ‘right under my nose’, we mean it almost literally: The job we talk of here is that of that guy, The Hater. In fact, one of my secret New Year resolutions for 2015 is towrestle this job out of The Hater’s hands. Yes, good things, including jobs come to those who fight, not to cowards who cry. All I have to do is nurture the same amount of bile and hatred that The Hater invests in his weekly rants, because I can’t think of a cooler thing than being paid to burst and to hate and to diss and to name and shame. At least I know where to direct some of my rants at: motorists who clog traffic, part-time thinkers, biological accidents, jokers … Away from The Hater, one other job I have always secretly eyed is that of a soldier, and for good reason. One of the best qualities I admire about being a soldier is that sense of mission, and not being a doubting Thomas whenever duty calls. Soldiers are firm, resolute and efficient, not fidgety and panicky, so words like “but”, “maybe”, “I beg your pardon” and “I will try” are unknown in their vocabulary. In a restaurant the only job I admire is that of pizza boy. I would have loved to be a concierge, but the problem is that those guys are too suited –more like suited penguins. Some of their uniforms look like those of pilots and marine crews. Finally, I would love to join the ranks of the young, brilliant, tech-savvy Rwandans who work from the comfort of one the sexiest office spaces in Kigali – the Telecom House: K-Lab, to be exact. They are called “developers”, and they develop “apps”.
