Mobola Johnson
I used to think the worst thing that could happen at work was being overlooked. I was wrong.
The worst is watching someone destroy your confidence, slowly and subtly while smiling in your face.
Mr. Bako had made it his mission to remind me who was in charge. Every meeting became a performance, and I was always the opening act, never the star. He’d question my numbers in front of clients, poke holes in solid strategies, and when something went well? He’d say, “Good thing I double-checked your work.”
It was never my win.
The tension was thick. I’d walk into work every morning with a smile that barely held, a knot in my stomach, and an inbox full of landmines. He copied me on petty emails, asked me to resend files he already had, and held late “feedback sessions” that felt more like interrogations than mentorship.
One day, during a brainstorming session, I pitched a campaign slogan. The room went quiet. He smirked and said, “That sounds… juvenile. Maybe try again when you’ve matured creatively.”
I wanted to disappear. But I didn’t flinch. Not in front of them.
After the meeting, Linda pulled me aside.
“You need to document everything,” she whispered. “Trust me. These types… they only smile before they bite.”
That night, I started keeping a journal. Not for memories, this was for evidence. Every comment, every swipe, every insult dressed as ‘feedback’ went in there.
I wasn’t just protecting myself. I was preparing for something I wasn’t sure of yet, but I knew it was coming.
Because when a boss stops trying to mentor you and starts trying to break you, the real question isn’t if something will explode, it’s when.
And I had no intention of letting him be the last one standing.
Mobola Johnson is a creative writer and a master storyteller