Ali Thank God

My Journey as a Banker A Dream Takes Shape In September 2008, the world was reeling from a financial crisis that would reshape the global economy. While banks were collapsing and economies were crumbling, I stood at the threshold of my career, filled with ambition and armed with nothing but hope. Fresh from my accounting studies, I walked through the doors of Oceanic Bank for the first time, my heart pounding with anticipation. The marble floors gleamed under fluorescent lights, and the air carried the scent of fresh paper and possibility. I was about to embark on a journey that would define the next decade of my life, though I had no idea then how dramatically it would end. Building Skills and Character My first role as a teller was humble but essential. Behind that bulletproof glass, I was the face of the bank to thousands of customers. Each transaction was a small story—a mother depositing her child's school fees, a small business owner making his daily deposit, an elderly man checking his pension balance with trembling hands. I learned that banking wasn't just about numbers; it was about people's dreams, fears, and futures. The transition to Ecobank marked a new chapter. The institution was larger, more complex, and offered greater opportunities for growth. As I settled into my new environment, I continued my education, pursuing the prestigious ACCA qualification. Late nights became my companion as I balanced work responsibilities with study materials, coffee cups accumulated on my desk, and determination became my closest ally. But I wasn't content with just accounting. Something stirred within me—a desire to understand the broader world, to communicate better, to tell stories that mattered. This led me to pursue a second bachelor's degree in Mass Communication and Journalism. My colleagues thought I was mad, juggling two demanding fields, but I knew that effective communication would be crucial in the banking world. Climbing the Corporate Ladder Progress in banking is methodical, like climbing a mountain with clearly marked paths. From teller, I advanced to customer service officer, where I learned the art of problem-solving and relationship management. Every complaint was a puzzle to solve, every satisfied customer a small victory. My communication skills, honed through journalism studies, proved invaluable as I navigated difficult conversations and built trust with customers. The promotion to cash officer brought new responsibilities and challenges. I was now handling larger sums, managing cash flows, and ensuring the bank's operations ran smoothly. The weight of responsibility was immense—one mistake could cost the bank thousands, could affect people's livelihoods. The pressure was intense, but it forged me into a meticulous professional. As cash movement officer, I reached what felt like a peak. I was responsible for coordinating the movement of hundreds millions of naira across branches, ensuring liquidity, and maintaining the delicate balance that kept the bank functioning. The role required strategic thinking, precise execution, and unwavering attention to detail since I would interface with both my bank and the central bank, which is the regulatory authority - on daily basis. The Recognition: Excellence Acknowledged Hard work has its rewards, and mine came in the form of several awards for outstanding performance. Each certificate, each recognition ceremony, each handshake from senior management felt like validation of the countless hours I'd invested. My colleagues looked up to me, my superiors trusted me with critical responsibilities, and my family beamed with pride. I had become more than just an employee; I was a banking professional in the truest sense. My expertise spanned multiple areas—from technical accounting knowledge to customer relations, from cash management to strategic communications. I had built a reputation as someone who could be counted on, someone who delivered results. The future looked bright. After eleven years of dedicated service, I was positioned for senior management roles. The sacrifices—the missed family dinners, the weekend work, the constant learning—all seemed worth it. I was about to reap the rewards of my persistence and dedication. When Dreams Collide with Reality Then came August, 2019—a year that would shatter everything I had built. The morning started like any other. I arrived at the office, reviewed my emails, and prepared for another day of ensuring the bank's cash operations ran smoothly. But something was different. Hushed conversations in corridors, closed-door meetings, and the tension in the air that precedes major announcements. When I got back to my desk to resume properly for the day, I saw an unfriendly mail in my inbox, I felt a knot form in my stomach. As I tried to read through the mail, I got a call almost immediately from the regional operations manager; He's my line supervisor; He was in copy. In corporate speech softened by practiced phrases, he announced what would become known as "right-sizing"—a euphemism for mass layoffs. Over three thousand employees, including myself, were being let go nationwide. The bank, in its effort to streamline operations and cut costs, had decided our services were no longer required. The compensation package was inadequate, a mere fraction of what we deserved after years of loyal service. I sat in that office, surrounded by colleagues who had become family, listening to the death knell of careers we had spent over a decade building. Notable amongst them include Pius, Ken,Tina, and others. The irony wasn't lost on me—we were being laid off by an institution we had helped build, strengthen, and sustain through our dedication. When the Foundation Crumbles The immediate aftermath was devastating. The steady income that had supported not just me but an entire network of dependents—family members, friends, and others who had come to rely on my stability—was gone overnight. Bills continued to arrive, responsibilities remained, but the means to meet them had vanished. The psychological impact was perhaps even more severe than the financial one. I had defined myself through my work, my achievements, my steady climb up the corporate ladder. Suddenly, I was adrift, my professional identity stripped away without warning or adequate explanation. The job market was unforgiving. Thousands of experienced bankers were suddenly competing for the same positions. Age worked against us—we were too experienced for entry-level roles, too expensive for institutions looking to cut costs. The very expertise that had once been our strength now seemed like a liability. The Reflection: A Universal Story As I struggled to rebuild my career and life, I realized that my story wasn't unique. Across our economy, thousands of professionals faced similar upheavals. The promise of corporate loyalty—that dedication and hard work would be rewarded with job security—had proven to be an illusion. The banking industry, once seen as the epitome of stability and prestige, had become a casualty of global economic pressures and changing business models. The human cost of these corporate decisions was immense, affecting not just the employees but entire communities that depended on their economic contribution. My journey from hopeful graduate to experienced professional to unexpected job seeker reflected the broader challenges facing our economy. The disconnect between corporate profits and employee welfare, the vulnerability of even the most dedicated workers to economic forces beyond their control, and the inadequacy of social safety nets for displaced professionals. Finding Meaning in the Struggle The end of my banking career wasn't the end of my story—it was a transformation. The skills I had developed, the relationships I had built, and the resilience I had gained through years of climbing the corporate ladder became the foundation for a new chapter. My journalism background, once a side interest, became a valuable asset as I began to tell the stories of displaced workers, to assist businesses and individuals alike in ghostwriting needs, and to help others navigate similar challenges. The communication skills that had served me well in banking now served a broader purpose, even in real estate. The awards and recognition I had received were no longer just personal achievements; they were proof that excellence and dedication matter, even when institutions fail to recognize them. They became the credentials that opened new doors, the evidence of my ability to excel in whatever field I chose to pursue. Lessons from the Journey Looking back on my banking journey, I see it not as a career cut short but as a complete story with its own arc and meaning. It taught me that professional success is important, but it shouldn't be the sole foundation of one's identity. It showed me that institutions are fragile, but the skills and character we develop are portable. The experience of being laid off, while painful, revealed reserves of strength I didn't know I possessed. It forced me to diversify my skills, to build networks beyond a single industry, and to create multiple sources of security rather than relying on one employer. Most importantly, it taught me empathy. Having experienced the vulnerability of job loss, I understand the struggles of others facing similar challenges. My story resonates with so many people in our economy because it represents the broader tension between individual ambition and systemic instability. The banking industry gave me technical skills, professional discipline, and a deep understanding of how financial systems work. But the journey also gave me something more valuable—the knowledge that resilience, adaptability, and the ability to tell our stories are the most important tools we can possess in an uncertain world. Today, as I continue to build new paths forward, I carry with me the lessons learned from eleven years in banking. The young man who walked into Oceanic Bank in 2008 was full of hope and ambition. The person who walked out of Ecobank in 2019 was wiser, more resilient, and better equipped to face whatever challenges lay ahead. The journey continues, but the story of my banking career remains a testament to the power of perseverance, the importance of continuous learning, and the resilience of the human spirit in the face of institutional indifference. It's a story that belongs not just to me, but to all who have faced similar challenges in our evolving economy. In the end, we are more than our jobs, more than our titles, and more than the institutions that employ us. We are the sum of our experiences, the product of our choices, and the authors of our own stories. And sometimes, the most powerful stories are the ones that don't end the way we planned.