I’m not doing much writing now. I’m reading the Bible. [More about this tomorrow]. So I gave Eddy Ashioya this week to talk about his life at home. You know, Eddie, right? He was here a while back.
By Eddy Ashioya.
Oh. That’s the sound of your boss not shouting in your ear. Bliss.
The thing about working from home is that there is no working at all.
Unlike in the office where you’d spend 5 hours online shopping and visiting myjobsinkenya.com (oh that’s just me?) and switching browsers every time HR or Njeri-The-Office-Snitch passes by.
Now you don’t even have to roll your eyes while force laughing when your boss cracks a Sahara Desert joke to keep your job. Or dealing with Kevin who counters so close to you, you can hear his thoughts as he tries to sell you on one of those multi level marketing fliers at the coffee machine. Social distancing Kevin. Social. Distancing.
This force majeure situation has all of us wilding…sending warm regards tucked under a duvet.
Au contraire. I’m living my best life, despite this remote working not even remotely working. Home becoming the new office was only fun the first day.
The freedom of fulfilling your professional obligations while wearing sweatpants and aloofness is now replaced with claustrophobia. From a husband to a houseband, you’re locked down during this lock down.
It’s Day Two and I have just realized my neighbor has green coloured hair. Who has green coloured hair? This isn’t a holiday. Is it? I also found some nail cutter souvenirs I lost in 2005 that I swear my ex had taken. Do I feel guilty? No. But will I be a bigger person and call her? Also, no. Besides she must have taken something from my house. I know it. I just can’t place it.
But such details are trivial in these lingering times.
It is tough fighting with the neighbours for the hanging lines. Especially, if you live on the first floor. Previously you never cared how clothes get dry. The Kisii chaps who stay on the 12th floor always wake up late. That means they hang their clothes after you – those fading Kaunda suits oozing banana yellow drops on your white shirt. Sometimes, you have to remind yourself it’s just not worth the jail time.
Newsflash: Remember when you used to wake up late and block the whole apartment with your car? Well, the Lord works in mysterious ways.
If you’re like me, you’re probably adjusting to your new coworkers – mosquitoes, Netflix or family – who may not be as focused in their careers as you are.
If anything, this work from home thing is filling the evidence-in-favor column of why your spouse is still not promoted and up to six figures.
Even the boss washed his hands – literally and metaphorically, and left this matter to the Lord.
Every now and then I would think about the IT man employed to watch what I do on my browser all day. I would intentionally visit potentially harmful ‘news websites’, and deliberately pick borderline alarmist articles just to spoil their day.
When you work from home, which does not play out as advertised, waking up is no more than fifteen minutes before any meeting. Making money without getting out of bed is the Kenyan dream.
Walking around naked (1 star – would not recommend if you have kids ) – is risqué and only fun if you live alone. Or in a gated community. Always remember to turn your BlueJeans off, or wear your blue jeans.
Speaking of, can all the grown men stop playing Fifa online? The Internet is lagging. Seriously. Find somewhere to g…oh.
And you know Kenyans with technology is like…well, Kenyans with technology. A shared presentation on BlueJeans spells trouble.
From Mwangi the Account Manager filling the screen with his face to your boss joining the presentation half an hour late – and asking for a ‘clarification’. Never mind that your Internet is a whole 10 seconds behind and you have to keep saying ‘Huuuuh?… Huh? ….Oh, ha!’
And who is that typing with a goddamn hammer?
Or that awkward moment when you realize halfway into your presentation that you’ve been on mute. As I watch my bank account slowly drain from lack of maturity (you too?) it really is hard to work from home when everybody is at home.
That means you have to be friends with James from Door 4 who you’ve been avoiding since you moved in. Something about him always disturbed your chi.
This is real, even if it remains surreal.
Because misery loves company, your nephews all want to stay with their ‘cool’ uncle who they perilously relieve of his salary. That’s you.
Now life is an operetta of kids fighting – who did what to whom, when and why – testing your reticence to the core.
With the help of an overactive imagination, a long period of self-isolation and YouTube clips of ghosts ‘caught on security camera’, we’ll be fine.
Unless you have a child…