It was just another Monday.
I was seated outside my parents’ house, under the faded umbrella by the gate, battling with the backlight of a customer’s Infinix screen. My little plastic table had burn marks from my soldering iron,
That was my routine — fixing phones right in front of the house, gritting my teeth while the world seemed to move on without me.
Then my cracked Techno phone buzzed.
Tochukwu NYSC.
It took me a second to remember — we’d served together. Always talking about “life after service” and who would blow first. He left for Lagos Island right after passing out.
I picked up.
“Val! My guy, how far? I hear say you still dey do phone repairs?”
I chuckled. “That na wetin I dey survive on, bro.”
He didn’t waste time:
“Omo, I dey work with a logistics company for Yaba. Our riders dey use tablets for dispatch. The tabs don begin mess up — charging ports, freezing apps, and screen issues. I tell my manager say I get one guy wey sabi. She wan try you. You fit show tomorrow?”
I didn’t even think twice.
Yaba wasn’t far — about 45 minutes with good traffic from Egbeda, or three hours on a bad day with danfo wahala. But what was important was this: someone remembered me for something serious.
That night, I cleaned my toolkit with cotton wool and engine oil, tested my glue gun
First Time Inside a “Proper” Office
I got to Yaba by 9:30am, after boarding two buses.
The office was small but organized — about 7 staff, a dispatch room, and a mini tech/storage space.
Tochukwu was already waiting.
He introduced me like I was a proper technician from Computer Village.
“This is Valentine. Sharp guy. He go handle the tablets better than all those people wey dey chop our money.”
His manager, a no-nonsense woman in her early 30s, simply said:
“We’ll give you three devices first. Show us what you can do.”
No Tools, No Table — Just Skill
There was no proper workspace, so I spread my tools on a small table beside the reception desk. Fixed one charging port with a nail file I sharpened at home.
Rebooted one frozen tab with my own OTG cable.
Did basic updates on another and installed tracking software they had been struggling to set up.
She watched me silently, arms folded.
Then she said:
“You sabi. How much to handle routine servicing and troubleshooting every week?”
I froze for a second.
“Madam, I go charge ₦30,000 per visit. If una add bulk repairs, we fit agree.”
She nodded.
“Come every Friday. We’ll sort you transport too. Just don’t fail me.”
Just like that, I got my first steady gig — no certificates, no interview, just skill and a friend’s recommendation.
Back to Egbeda — But Now With Something to Look Forward To
When I got home, I didn’t tell my parents immediately.
But later that week, I dropped ₦10,000 for Mum to buy foodstuffs and quietly told Dad, “That my NYSC guy connect me to one office for Yaba. Dem go dey pay per job.”
My father, who’d been telling me to “go and learn plumbing,” simply grunted, “Make you dey consistent.”
In his world, that meant “I’m proud of you.”
The Bigger Picture
That one small Yaba gig opened doors.
Tochukwu’s boss recommended me to her friend who runs a POS shop. Then another referral came. I started fixing POS terminals, Android tablets, and even helping with app installations.
I used part of the money to laminate my flyers and get branded stickers.
Eventually, I was able to rent a small table space inside an accessories shop along the express.
Key Lessons:
- Start where you are. Even if it’s in front of your house. Be visible. Be reliable.
- Your NYSC friends are not useless. Keep in touch. Be known for something.
- Don’t underestimate the power of small gigs. A ₦5,000 job today could connect you to ₦50,000 work tomorrow.
- You don’t need a big shop or fancy equipment. You just need skill, consistency, and humility.
