No one ever likes to hear the words “You’re Fired!” the fact is however, is that it happens everywhere, all the time. Funny thing is, more often than not, its deserved. There are certain people that just refuse to conduct themselves in a manner expected by most any boss. Laziness, constant complaining, excuse making, job evasion, and, gossip mongering could all be considered legitimate reasons to terminate someone.  Simply not being in tune with one’s corporate culture can do the trick.  Limitations people… they are always good to know. The following is RELATIVITY OnLine’s own list of Hall of Fame stupidity. Amazingly enough, most people who get fired for the reasonsbelow remain convinced they did nothing wrong. Too bad we cant fire Hohol.

• 1. On the job dishonesty and evasion
• 2. Lying on a resume / CV
• 3. Refusing to follow directions or orders
• 4. Talking too much  and conducting personal business at work
• 5. Inconsistent, unreliable work  and behavior
• 6. Inability to get along with other people
• 7. Inability to to assigned tasks
• 8. Performing tasks slowly, submitting late
• 9. Regular absenteeism
• 10. Drug or alcohol abuse.

From Uganda Corespondent Arinaitwe Rugyendo…

Recently,  I was invited by Makerere University Business School (MUBS) to speak to their completing students.

It is a requirement for MUBS’ mentorship programme to invite business practitioners from town to speak and inspire its business students.

The venue was House 4 where I found about 1000 students waiting and others listening-in from the outside through the windows.

I had been instructed to speak to them about the possibility of starting their own businesses after school and what it takes to create their own jobs.

Using my own experience at Red Pepper, I told them the long story of a newspaper we started with just less than One million shillings some nine years ago but has since grown strong.

The students were eager to listen to one of their own speak because they had been briefed that at the time we founded this newspaper in 2001, I was pretty the same age as most of them. The authorities therefore felt it was important for me to speak about how we did it as a way of inspiring their students who are leaving school in three weeks time with no possibility of immediate employment.

Drawing from both local and international examples, I concluded that the problem of unemployment in Uganda is not because the jobs are not available. It is largely a question of attitude and the failure on the part of our mentors and political leaders to focus the young people’s minds on looking for opportunities and identifying every problem as an opportunity for offering a business solution and therefore a chance at job creation.

I observed that it is for instance a question of attitude realignment if you have many graduate doctors crying for jobs. It should take a deliberate mentorship programme by patriotic political leaders to sensitize them on the fact that as doctors, they are ‘mobile clinics’ whose services patients are waiting to pay for from anywhere. This would be one way of creating their own jobs.

The story of vivid examples from which the students picked business ideas was very long and by close of the session, most of them had been converted to my gospel of entrepreneurship not because they didn’t have the ideas. It was because, like several unemployed young people elsewhere in Uganda, there is nobody to talk to them. There is virtually no one to show them the way which I did!

But the most intriguing part of the session was question time. Students asked a number of questions raging from how to start a business to start-up capital. The frustration on their faces told volumes of how the crisis of unemployment in Uganda has reached almost immeasurable proportions. The young people clearly lack people who should be showing them where opportunities for cheap credit are and which business ideas can make sense.

And no wonder then that current statistics show that for about 390,000 students who finish tertiary education each year, there are only about 8,000 jobs to them to fight for.

During my address, a friend, Mr. Kakembo, who works in the Tax Investigations department at Uganda Revenue Authority, told students of a harrowing experience at the tax body where for every job advertised requiring about four people to fill, there are nearly 2,500 applications to it. The situation has even gotten worse to the extent that across the city, employers are bombarded with job requests from young people requesting to be allowed to ‘just do anything.’ They no longer value their qualifications.

Uganda is certainly sitting on a time bomb because unemployment is no longer an individual case problem. It is a massively public issue because the structure of opportunities has collapsed and the politicians do not seem to have a clue.

Instead, they go on sloganeering, telling the hapless students to go and create jobs. They never tell them anything significant about how to raise start up capital. The cheeky ones blame the degree programmes offered in some universities which they say have little relevance to the employment situation in the country, yet, the very system they serve runs a National Council for Higher Education which is charged with licensing universities and their programmes whose relevance surely cannot be blamed on the graduates.

Apart from the patriotism seminars, civic education programmes and the political education courses at Kyankwanzi and other areas, there are no job creation think tanks in the country and the Ministry of Labor and Social Affairs has never gathered job seekers anywhere in Uganda and showed them where opportunities for investment and start-up capital acquisition are located.

Instead, the unemployed young people are being asked to go, register and vote, which is why I am not surprised that the Electoral Commission has complained of a frustratingly low turn up at the various voter verification centres across the country.

What then can be the possible way forward?

I strongly feel that all political parties competing for power in the next election should, as a first step, focus on removing obstacles to job creation and accessibility.

Reducing the retirement age at the moment is something that would send well accomplished Ugandans into self employment, giving way to a size able number of jobs in the public sector to the young people.

A person who retires at the age 50 now, will utilize his gratuity more responsibly than a young graduate who is given money to start up a shop. In other words, a retiree has more meaningful start-up capital in the form of his hard-earned gratuity than a fresh graduate.

This is where any political party that wants my vote, can instantly create about 50,000 jobs every year as it goes about scratching for more robust solutions.

From David Anthony Hohol…

Now at the very beginnings of a new millennia, working class citizens continue to live a life of permanent insecurity never being sure that the current job will last or how much longer they will be able to live in their rented houses. The experience of living in fear continues to permeate daily life, as surviving from check to check in the name of the capital and production can often be a relentless endeavor. By extension, the working class lifestyle produces an almost frivolous mind-set, as living in and for the moment becomes no less than a way of life and planning for the future becomes a moot point. In other words, having fun when the chance is there to do so as well as compartmentalizing the future within the far reaches of the mind has become a philosophy of life and living for the working class masses of the Western World.

Today as in their beginnings, the best place to establish, maintain and perpetuate such a philosophy continues to be the local neighborhood pubs of communities the world over. If Mr. Durden was indeed correct in describing today’s masses as the middle children of history, without a great war and without a great depression, then local pubs and bars are like the foster homes for the bastard children of the working class. Seemingly always unable to fit and being unwanted by those they aspire to be, they cling together in tiny groups, tiny families and find meaning and acceptance only in each other. The working class is united in the great depression that is life, bounded by insecurity and dissatisfaction and grounded by a common distaste for the status quo and their inverted reflection of what they wish for but simultaneously never want to be- the dreaded, conforming, assured, amnestied, calculating, time obsessed, aura-less, ghost that is the Yuppie.

Yuppies dream of safe jobs, stable mortgages, manageable payments on their new sports utility vehicles,  a top of line barbecue for the deck with a matching set of tongs, all the while seemingly rushing towards the end of it all, the emphasis on the destination and not the journey. Initiatively impaired and creatively stunted, yuppies revolt by living a violently nomadic almost disloyal social lifestyle, bouncing around a variety of sushi bars and cocktail lounges while constantly anticipating the next trendy place to temporarily frequent. Conversely, the working class lifestyle is defined by unsafe jobs, unstable housing and used cars, but their vocations themselves are defined by repetitiveness and this transcends to their social life which is about routine, routine and more routine. Finding a spot to go after work where they are called by name, where what they drink is in front of them before they order and where they are noticed and respected while being surrounded by others from their own social rung in the ladder becomes important, the emphasis being on the journey and not the destination. And with this, the fundamental lines of division although altered and evolved still serve the same purpose and produce the same result as they did during the Industrial Revolution.  As a result the aims of both groups will forever be entirely irreconcilable. The Industrial Revolution no doubt cast the mold of Modern society and long before even my grandfather was born I believe the template for much of my life had already been set into motion.

Until the end of my twenties I lived in shackles, chained to a lifestyle that was of course possible to leave behind, as even the most maximum of maximum security prisons have had those who escaped from behind their walls. Nevertheless, it takes patience, calculating thought, dedication, determination and a little luck in order pull off the great escape. Even if one is successful there are absolutely no guarantees. I still feel haunted by my life on the inside, as it continually grabs at me, nipping at my heels, trying to recapture one of its escaped prisoners with all the furor of a viciously determined warden. Being inside the toweringly cold and incapacitating walls of the working class prison for so many years however, thickens your skin, develops your sense for opportunity and most of all your scent for blood.

The hospitality industry with it’s kaleidoscope of personalities and lifestyles, is no less than a educational experience that produces for those who open their eyes and take in all that they see, a working class degree in social psychology.  Working in the business for a long period of time and being exposed to the wide variety of ideas and individuals that came through the doors, I came to posses the gift of intuitive verbalization, whether it be colorful small talk or high-end conversations on serious topics of the day, and became a sort of social contortionist able to naturally adapt to any given situation. Furthermore, I learned to learn to listen and not pry, to sympathize and not pity as over the years I developed the ability to tune myself in to another human being. By extension, people began feel as though they could tell me things they couldn’t tell others and the role of confidant became a standard in my life. All of these qualities helped immeasurably with my work that began immediately after graduating university, which included traveling the world as an educator, becoming a writer and learning about my self and my life that was which in turn produced the very words you are reading at this moment.

Combining my working mans social psych degree with nearly five years of post-secondary study, the benefits of a classical education and a university degree produced more of something I had been lacking, seemingly, my entire life to that point- that being something called opportunity.  Opportunity is not divided equally in a democratic capitalist culture, not by a long shot, although such a culture continually trumpets the fallacy of equal opportunity for all. In today’s postmodern world ideas and technology have advanced immeasurably since the days of the Industrial Revolution, but despite the New World and the Technological Revolution, we are now in the midst of that is changing human relationships and instinctual drives by the moment, the economic dissection of society has changed very little and if anything, it continues to tighten its deadly grip on every society that subscribes to the human vice that is capitalism.

The upper class of liberal democratic societies make up a only a minute percentage of the overall population, but control the vast majority of a nations wealth living the life once reserved only for royalty. By extension, in most any modern urban sprawl there are perverse economic discrepancies, as there are those with millions and those with nothing separated by only a few city blocks and such incongruity represents the cult of self-interest that is a structural feature of any modern industrialized society. The dirty little truth of capitalism is that an entirely oppressive class system must exist. I mean it absolutely has to, as the high, the middle and the lower classes are a necessary construct for success.

By consequence those with money and thus power will have a tremendous amount of opportunity, economic and otherwise, compared to those who are economically weaker. Furthermore, those in the middle and lower classes are necessary and meet the needs of those in the upper class and are a means to the end of the entire capitalistic construct.  Those in the upper economic stratosphere need the middle class to be the teachers, the police officers, the nurses, and those in the lower class are needed to clean the toilets, pick up garbage, cook their meals and work in their factories. Simply stated an industrialized society could not function if these roles were not filled. As a necessitating consequence of such a system those beneath the upper class often are given the opportunity to earn a wage of subsistence or in other words no more money than what will allow them to maintain their necessary position in society. What the larger portion of society thus does is work to live and not much more.

With that said, the postmodern middle class most often produces for itself a sufficient lifestyle and serves as a Rockwellian portrait of comfortable success, but the economic difference between middle class and those in the upper class is incredibly, even ridiculously vast. Middle class anxiety is therefore rampant, as they feel only one medical emergency or one lost job away from sinking to the masses of the lower class. The lower class continually dreams of making the leap to the middle, but are provided with the least amount of opportunity of all, and many live in a constant state of apathy and learned helplessness. The burden of financial stress produces more divorce, more substance abuse, more teen pregnancy, more crime and far less education. Industrialized countries sell this rigged system to their own inhabitants by defining success goals as accessible to everyone, regardless of socio-economic status, race or gender, when this is hardly the case at all. This boldly represents the discrepancy between social goals and the legitimate opportunities available to achieve these goals. Everyone is encouraged to achieve success when quite simply the paths to success are only open to some. The very value system that that is born from capitalistic ideology declares to the masses that certain common symbols of success are necessary to achieve self worth and societal acceptance, but the very structure necessary for the system itself to survive scrupulously restricts or at times entirely denies the majority of the population access to the channels that are needed to do so. The very way a capitalistic society is constructed to draw the greatest energies and efforts from all those under her wing in hopes of producing the highest standard of living possible actually produces the economically challenged majority. The biggest, most manipulative and dirtiest lie that has ever been perpetrated by capitalism is that there is equal opportunity for all. I mean really… I call bullshit.

From Lama J…

When I graduated from my University in Amman, I was young and excited to find a job. I dreamt of working in a company throughout the four years it took for me to acquire my degree.  I always wanted to put on a suit and be a business woman. As young girl, I looked at women I saw like this as sophisticated and sharp and I wanted to be the same.

I got my University degree and unlike my fellow graduates, I immediately started looking for a job. Most of the people I went to school with were thinking of higher education, but I wanted to work and start chasing after my dreams. I was 22 years old when I graduated with a degree in English Translation and my first job was working as a translator in a small government office.

 The office was small and dirty, but I needed experience and accepted this was just how it was going to be at the start. I worked for a very old man and within a month I realized he was as sour as could be. He used to make me work day and night, sometimes asking me to arrange his office and order his coffee. I felt like a maid, but I knew I had no choice, but to be patient. My mom told me many times I shouldn’t quit my first job so quickly, as I needed to learn and gain some experience.

After couple of months, I started searching the newspaper for another opportunity and ended up working for the Jordan Yellow Pages as the assistant to the manager. The boss was short, totally unattractive, and married with two sons. With that said, he was busy chasing every woman in the office.  There were more than one hundred people working in this particular office and about half were women. Some were married, some engaged and others were single, but this boss never really cared about a women’s marital status.

It was around this time when I starting to hear the men in the office joking about “taking the stamp.” Not long after I started my new job, a male co-worker even directly asked me, “Did you get the stamp yet?”  

As I stood there and listened to him let out a big belly laugh, I had no idea what he was talking about. Later on, however, while on a business trip with my boss, I realized what they guys in the office were talking about.

This little fat hobbit of a man literally knocked on my hotel room door in the middle of the night.  I immediately knew what he wanted, so when I opened the door I pretended I was sick. This didn’t stop him from harassing me to come into my room.  I refused, but still he insisted. When he eventually figured out he wasn’t going to get to give me “the stamp” he began to shout.  “When we get back to Jordan, I don’t want to see your face again!”

When we returned I was immediately fired and was not even given the remainder of my salary. In case you’re wondering if there was anything I could do about - the answer is a big no.

Soon enough, I was once again going through every newspaper and searching for a new job. Shortly thereafter, I found myself working for a large IT company. It was a big name company with big name brands and I thought I was at last exactly where I wanted to be.

I thought the CEO of an IT company must be either a nerd or an old man focused on work.  I was also happy to see the staff was almost entirely made up of unattractive men. This made me think the boss cared about work and nothing else. I was offered a good salary, but the working hours were really long. I didn’t care though and simply did my best each day to do my job.

Things then got strange. As I started to get to know my new boss more, I realized he was a porn freak.  He used to send me dirty jokes, somehow thinking he was cool in the process. I didn’t like it at all and felt I needed to politely tell him as much, but never got around to it.

And so, while working late on a big presentation and after everybody left the office except for the two of us, he came to the printing room and closed the door behind him. All of a sudden he jumped on me. I screamed, slapped him across his face, took my bag and stormed out of the office.  I was shivering and crying, but laughing at the same time. I mean the guy didn’t even work up to it!

I told my mom I simply couldn’t find a decent man to work for and that’s when she told me to just stay home until something I felt comfortable with came up.

After several weeks, I received a call from an embassy. They invited me in for an interview and I was so happy. As it turned out, I got the job and worked for a foreign ambassador to Jordan for the next two years. He was such a great guy and treated me well the entire time I was there. The embassies Commercial Attaché, however, was a wrinkly old grandpa who just loved slapping girls on their asses, but that was all he ever did.  I needed to settle down in a career and just let things be, so I took the odd slap across my ass and stayed put.

I eventually felt done with Jordan and wanted to hit a more professional market. To work in the West, I thought, would be my best move.  I also thought a non-Arab boss would be more professional. Once again I began looking for work, but this time I wasn’t looking through Amman newspapers. Europe was my new target and not long after, much to the surprise of my family and most anyone who knew me, I was on a plane to Germany.

I took a job in Frankfurt with a security company and my new boss was a German guy in his mid-fifties. He was kind enough to show me the real-deal, taught me a lot about business and believed in me.  I ended up visiting and working in all his office branches. France, Denmark, Belgium, Amsterdam and Switzerland – suddenly this young girl from Amman who dreamed of being an international business woman was doing just that.  Along the way there was one stumble, however.

A few months after settling down, I was cooking my dinner and readying myself for a night at home. It was -15 degrees outside. The weather was so cold in Germany during the winter, I spent a lot of time indoors.

Unexpectedly, my door bell rang and using the intercom system I went to check who it was. Much to my surprise, it turned out to be my boss. When I opened the door he was waiting on the steps, cradling a bottle of wine in his arms.  As I stood in the doorway in my pajamas, I wondered what on earth he could want. “If you haven’t your dinner yet, I’m here to cook you some good German food,” he said with as smile.

 I invited him in, but told him I’d finished my dinner and was in fact going to bed soon.  Nevertheless, he sat down and opened the bottle of wine, before asking me to join him on the sofa. I got scared at this point and didn’t know what to do. I remember immediately worrying about being fired and having to go back to the Middle East – something I desperately didn’t want to do.

 It was at this point I thought to bring up religion. “Sir, I don’t drink. I am a Muslim,” I said politely.

“So what? Some Muslims do,” he replied.

 I told him that he was right, but I wasn’t one of them. Still not getting the reaction I was looking for, I came up with a plan I was sure would work. I pretended I needed to pray, went to my room, put on my prayer clothes and came back with the Quran in my hand. “I will be with you after I finish my prayers,” I said stoically.  

As I turned to walk away, it took all my effort not to laugh at loud at the look of shock on his face.  He ended up leaving the house, while I was praying. I laughed for hours after that and today I still do whenever I think about it. He didn’t try anything with me that night, but it was clear he was checking to see what he could find. He never bothered me again after that night and was later let go by the company.

I eventually left Europe and moved to Dubai. I took couple of jobs and the hits juts kept on coming. One client asked for some tips to help him better enjoy sex with his wife, an HR rep looked at my breasts throughout an entire interview, another client asked what type of underwear I preferred. Some potential bosses and clients even offered me things like a personal driver or a free apartment, but just as long as I was willing to be their back-up entertainment system.

Something most men out there don’t realize is that women all over the world have to deal with this kind of nonsense every day. Sometimes it’s scary, sometimes tragically funny, and always uncomfortable; even more so in the Middle East we are less protected under the law than in the West.

Whatever the case may be, to all you perverts out there – we women just want to work!  Get over yourself and no, I’m not telling you what color my underwear is.