It was a humid Monday morning in Ojike village with dust rising from the untarred road. It was the day that everything went downhill for Chidi.
It started like any other. He stepped out of his house, lunch box in one hand, a smile on his lips. He exchanged greetings with his neighbour, Mama Ngozi,
“Chidi! You are off to the factory? God bless your hustle!”
“Amen, Mama,” he laughed heartily.
By 11 a.m., Chidi stood in a daze outside the rusty gate of the factory, holding his last salary in an envelope so light it felt like air.
“Due to economic difficulties, the company will cease operation immediately…” The words of management kept reverberating through his brain. It felt like the sound of a bell knelling.
A total of 160 workers laid off..... Without any notice, without any compensation.
He thought of his wife Adaeze who was eight months pregnant; their rent which was already two months overdue.
He felt fear for the first time in years.
People were shouting. Some were on their knees, crying. Chidi just stood there like a statue, not knowing if torrents of tears would solve the problem.
His friend Uche grabbed his shirt. “Chidi! They’re shutting down! What are we going to do now?”
Chidi’s voice cracked. “I… I don’t know.”
That afternoon, he walked slowly home, his steps unsure, unsteady. He watched children run past chasing a bicycle tire with sticks, carefree and laughing, and wished he could become a child once again.
He lost his father when he was ten and so had to discontinue his education. His mother followed two years later leaving him at the mercy of unkind relatives. He had done menial jobs until he was employed by the plastic factory as a machine operator.
Very close to his house, he paused for a moment, and whispered a tired prayer.
At home, his pregnant wife Adaeze listened quietly as he explained.
“How... how are we going to cope?” she whispered.
He only stared at the floor.
Then she sat beside him, and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“I believe we’ll survive. God is still God, He would not let us go hungry.”
He sighed deeply. “But how? Rent, food, baby on the way…”
Days stretched into weeks and then months, he was unable to get another job. Nobody wanted an uneducated machine operator. He lost his friends who got tired of lending him money that was never repaid.
One evening, sitting behind his small house, hungry and confused, Chidi remembered what his late mother used to tell him.
“Even when your pocket is empty, your spirit must remain rich. A will always makes a way — so never lose your will to survive.”
He repeated the line until tears came. It reminded him of his childhood — when he used to repair radios and broken fans in their compound just by fiddling with wires. He was called "Electro" by his mates and had nursed the ambition of becoming an engineer in the future— that was before his father's demise.
Suddenly an idea struck him. Something in him flickered to life.
That night, he searched for some old tools. They were rusty but they would suffice for now. He didn't have enough money to buy new ones and no friend would borrow him any.
The next day, he walked around the community offering to repair phones, irons, sockets – anything that had a wire.
“Madam, do you need help fixing your fan?”
“Bros, I can repair your iron.”
While some laughed and ignored him, others allowed him out of pity.
The very first week, he made ₦7,000. Not much but enough to buy little food.
Wide-eyed, Adaeze counted the money in front of him.
She looked up, amazed. “Didn't I tell you God will take care of us?”
He nodded slowly, surprised at himself.
Slowly, his reputation grew. He was good with wires and never cheated anyone. He was able to fix things others couldn’t. He was never angry but always wore a smile, even when hungry. People began to call him Engineer Chidi because he fixed things perfectly.
The turning point came when a teacher from the secondary school brought a desktop computer no one had been able to repair for two years.
Can you fix a computer?”
Chidi hesitated. “I’ve never tried… but let me try.”
Though Chidi had never worked on a computer in his life, he trusted his gut, staying up all night, experimenting with the parts and circuit boards.
On the second day, the computer was working again.
The teacher screamed in joy. “You’re a genius!”
Word spread fast. Soon, people from nearby villages started coming with different electrical gadgets and somehow, he always fixed them.
He started saving gradually and eventually opened a small workshop with a cardboard sign: CHIDI ELECTRONICS & REPAIRS – we repair it all.
He trained two young boys from the village who everyone thought were useless; they became his apprentices. Their parents cried with joy as they watched their boys become useful.
Three years after losing his factory job, Chidi had become a household name in the community and beyond. The man who could bring dead electronics back to life. Schools invited him to refurbish their computers and other gadgets.
He started building a brick house behind his father's hut and bought a good "fairly used" car to meet up with his numerous engagements.
He had rewritten his story.
“The day I thought my life ended… was the day it actually began.”
Image generated with FX AI.
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