Regard for Hierarchy( Tainted Waters)

Something came to my mind, and I can surely say that almost everyone is guilty of it, if not all. Well, pretty much 85 out of 100. When applying for a job or seeking a professional career, we’re left with building our path, you know? Listing areas where we’ve developed ourselves, past work experiences, and current job titles. All of these are listed on our Curriculum Vitae, even when everything isn’t entirely true. Some of those qualities are: * Ability to work under pressure.* High regard for hierarchy.* Effective communication skills.* Microsoft Office literacy.* Fluent in Yoruba and English.* Willingness to learn on the job. While most of these are true—in fact, all of these skill sets are true—we’re still left with some choices that make you question whether there’s really any regard for hierarchy at all. The professional setting has psychologically moulded people into believing that talking back to your supervisor is “rude.” Even when what she’s saying doesn’t sit well with you and you’re simply trying to explain the matter, you’re still expected not to talk. There’s absolutely nothing you can say to convince them otherwise. They just won’t agree with you! Even when your intention was never to be rude, or anything close to it, somehow, you get tagged as the rudest person in the room, with no regard for those in high positions. Never speak. Just listen to their instructions without changing your facial expression, and at the end, your comment to your colleagues will be, “It’s on the job.” Like what just happened has happened. There’s no point revisiting it. On that note—or rather, on that pretext—I’d like to go over what I experienced today. In awe of celebrating the new month, so to speak, and with hearts full of praise, we made a joyful noise unto the Lord in the morning and exalted His holy name. We sang songs and danced like David danced in his time. After the little ministration, we prayed, and everybody sat down. Seizing that opportunity, I stood up, met a few of my colleagues, and told them, “You’ve not paid offering. Won’t you pay?” They laughed, and that was that. I told my Line Manager, and she laughed about it, saying, “O serious!” Then one of my bosses said, “O ti mo Lara.” (It’s become a part of him.) “Omo Cele ni.” (He attends a Celestial Church.) “It’s a norm for them.” Honestly, I just let out a grin, a smirk, and every other emotion similar to those two. I couldn’t reply because she had already spoilt my mood that morning. I wanted to talk back. Maybe tell her, “Ahan, mi ò like nkan tí ẹ sọ yẹn o.” (I don’t like what you just said, Ma.) But then I remembered what I wrote in my CV: High regard for hierarchy. No talking back to my boss. Somewhere in there, I had already gotten the closure I was seeking. It was no longer about me; it had become a collective statement. A statement about a group of people and, indirectly, a whole church. She had tainted the image of the Celestial Church completely. What if there was someone present who had been thinking about starting to attend a Celestial Church? Would that person still want to anymore? She isn’t even the cause of all these misconceptions. It’s the fake prophets, fake shepherds, and those who have allowed an excessive love of money to take over their minds that have contributed to this whole thing. She doesn’t attend a Celestial Church, but she can say that about the church, amongst many other things she might have heard or seen on TikTok. But what if that was you? Would you have acted that way? My point lies herein. I wanted to talk back badly. I really wanted to say something. I wanted to tell her that what she had said didn’t sit well with me. But I couldn’t. She is my boss. I don’t know if y’all get my point. Should I have said something? Or should I have remained silent? I really do not know. I don’t know! Damn! I’m still thinking about it till now, though.

Other insights from The Jotter Keeper

Referral Earning

Points-to-Coupons