These are the personal thoughts of individuals put to fiction writing to put scope to the sufferings of an average bank marketer.
Being a finance expert, someone surrounded by banker friends and siblings, my hatred grew for the profession especially when I hear the clause “Relationship manager”.
Often more than the average number of cars you will find on 3rd mainland bridge at about 6.30pm on a weekday was the frequency to which I get visits from rival banks struggling to get me to open an account. I thank God this career is now history (only to be seen on CV)
I recall my first four (4) years with one of the foremost banks in Nigeria now, I lived each day on survival and perseverance; Job satisfaction was a distant mirage.
At first I didn’t know what I was getting myself into considering the fact that the training school period wasbig time fun (night outs and fun weekends) and my offer letter read a good pay. While I heard the dominant warning of “fear marketing” from many, I accepted the challenge like every other in my course in life.
It was 5:30 A.M on that fateful morning and I was already up, rushed my morning devotion and before you knew it, I was dressed for the day’s job. Exactly 7:10 A.M, I was at the office bouncing in dressed in a navy blue suit and sparkling white shirt. My shining black shoe announced me while I walked into the hall (bata mi adun ko ko lo). I was so happy and felt very fulfilled at this point not knowing what I really was going into.
Months down the lane, I had settled in and made a few friends, hoping I was on the right divide till I was confronted with the exact thing I feared most; ‘ you have been moved to commercial banking’. My skinny, smallish yet unfriendly team lead sure did a good job in exerting target pressure on me; looked for accounts both day and night, begging friends and family to assist by opening accounts. After 6 months I was several decimal points from my target of 120 million Naira. I made up my mind that this was the reality of life which I have always heard while in school. So ‘welcome to the world’ I said to myself.
I would get bashed at team budget meetings with insults I am sure my father would dare not even alter,defamatory or degrading, who cared, you are a bloody marketer and an ET (Executive Trainee) at that.
Luckily, my breakthrough came when I was transferred to another branch, away from my unbearable team lead Ebuka. What I didn’t envisage was a greater devil (Regional Head) that lived in my new branch with influence too strong for HR to curb her excesses. At this point, I would like to say “HR- is a joke concept that only exist for customer protection and aiding unprofessional and inhuman behaviour exhibited by those in authority in the bank). My ordeal got worse in the branch with this my new boss and I was beginning to tell myself that this must be coming from my village.
To be continued………...