Gentility
He was the “IT guy” at church.
Not because he studied computer science. Because he could fix the projector when it acted up on Sundays. He’d tap F5, wiggle the HDMI, and the congregation would clap like he resurrected Lazarus.
He was 27. Still living in his dad’s house in Ikorodu. Selling power banks at Computer Village. ₦1,500 profit per piece on a good day. On bad days, LASTMA seized his table.
One Tuesday, a man came to buy a 20,000mAh Oraimo. The man’s laptop bag had a Google sticker. “You dey repair phone?” the man asked.
“Small small,” he lied. He’d only ever replaced his sister’s screen using YouTube.
The man brought a MacBook the next day. Water damage. “If you spoil am, no problem. E don die already.”
He didn’t sleep for 72 hours. Watched 40 videos. Bought isopropyl alcohol from a pharmacy. Opened the laptop with a kitchen knife. Cleaned the logic board with a toothbrush. Prayed.
It came on.
The man returned, saw the glowing Apple logo, and just stared. “How much?”
“Whatever you like, sir.”
The man sent him ₦150,000. Then dropped his card. “We need IT support staff. Come Friday.”
Friday became a contract. Contract became full-time. Full-time became “Head of Device Management.”
Last month, he led the setup for the church’s first live stream. 14,000 people watched online. After service, his dad hugged him. No words. Just a hug that said “I see you now.”
Nobody clapped when he fixed the projector that day. They were too busy watching it work.
You’re not “just” anything. You’re one skill, one yes, one broken laptop away.
The world doesn’t pay for titles. It pays for problems solved.
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