A/N: Lads and the sole lady who reads this, the power ranking for the novel fell from 600ish to 900ish overnight! Any ideas why? I find it really bizarre.
"And so as of today Memo no. 66 comes into effect. All employees will receive a blanket four times increase in their base wages with further incentives dependent on performance versus an anticipatory yearly career plan," Haddad Aboud, the head of the Sadr City West branch of Rafidain bank read out from a sheet of paper he was holding.
The whole office cheered including 50 year old Walid Bin Rehman. He couldn't believe his ears and even though his boss Haddad looked tense and sweaty, Walid began imagining how he would spend or invest the extra income. As he day dreamed he only partially heard what Haddad said next.
"There will also be a biannual performance review..."
Walid zoned out for the next part. If he hadn't perhaps he would not have been as cavalier with his day to day work. "Those not meeting their target without reasonable explanation are liable to be terminated and barred from further government employment. Those found to have engaged in unethical practices will be summarily terminated and prosecuted."
Walid returned that night and took his disbelieving family out for ice creams. Neither his wife nor his nearly adult children could believe that their stern joyless father knew what ice cream was.
The next morning, Walid felt hungover and groggy from the ice cream so he decided to take it easy. Unfortunately one of the banks customers, a young man looking to take a personal loan was out to make his life hard.
"You told me last week to come back this week for the final resolution of the loan," the young man in yellow overalls said with frustration writ on his face.
Walid stifled a yawn and replied irritatedly, "Yes well do you have any idea how many loan applications we process daily? I only give estimates of time."
"No I dont know how many loan applications," replied the man crossing his arms. "Tell me."
"Lots!"
The customer scoffed.
Walid lost it. Didnt this young gun know how to respect his elders?
"You young people. You get one job in construction and some money and you think you can just throw your weight around," said Walid leaning forward and wagging his finger in the man's face, "well let me tell you sonny. Work for decades and then you'll realise you're just a cog in the machine. Then you'll learn some patience."
"I'm not moving until theres some progress on my loan application," replied the young man firmly, his lower jaw jutting out in stubbornness.
"Tch!" Walid reluctantly retrieved the man's loan application and slowly, ever so slowly started perusing through the file. He was looking for any small error he could find to reject the application and show the young man his place. At last he found it.
Walid turned the file around and placed it in front of the man and pointed to a part of the form that the man had crossed out with a pen. "Here, there cant be any errors on the form. I'll be rejecting this application."
"What do you mean?" Said the man in a low dangerous voice.
"No. Mistakes. On. The. Form." Walid replied stubbornly. "You'll have to submit the application again."
"You bloody corrupt bastard!" yelled the man as he exploded out of his seat. He looked like he was going to kill Walid who shrank back terrified.
"You fucking bug," yelled the man as he pointed at Walid threateningly. "I'll have you. You watch. I'll fucking have you."
As the man stormed out, there was pin drop silence in the bank as everyone stared at Walid who trembled.
Later at lunch time, his colleague Nabil broached the topic, Uncle Walid why did you antagonize that man? You know the error isnt a reason to reject the application."
Walid liked being called Uncle by the junior staffers. It showed him that the old etiquette, adab wasnt lost on the youth yet. Elders were to be respected.
"Son," sighed Walid, " these new age youngsters aren't as enlightened as you. They work in these lowly construction jobs, get some quick cash and think they know the world. It's the duty of us elders to educate the youth."
Nabil was quiet for a while before he said, "I've heard that the Siemens people pay their construction workers quite a hefty amount. Any they reward hard workers even more. Just like the new Memo 66."
"Tch. What has been happening will continue to happen," replied Walid tersely.
Walid ate his lunch luxuriously while contemplating the mornings incident. His eldest son had shown interest in taking up a construction job on the new Spine of Iraq railway but Walid had put his foot down firmly.
Before he knew it his younger colleagues were packing up their tiffins and making a move as if to return to work.
"Where are you guys going?"
"Back to work Uncle," replied Nabil.
Walid checked his watch. It was only 1 pm, typically they kept a lunch break from 12:30 to 2.
"But it's only been half an hour!"
Nabil shrugged, "Its the Memo Uncle. We all want to meet our targets."
Walid shook his head and watched the young lot walk back to their desks. Mad world.
A few days later Haddad summoned Walid to his office.
"How are you Uncle? How are the kids?" Haddad asked kindly. Walid smiled at the man who was his second cousin by marriage.
"All good all good inshallah," replied Walid smiling warmly but wondering what Haddad wanted to speak about.
Haddad sighed as he partially held up a paper. "Uncle this is difficult to talk about. But there's been a complaint about you."
"Oh? What sort of complaint?" What Walid actually meant to ask was why Haddad was bothering him with a complaint. Every year there were dozens of complaints against Walid.
"A customer of the bank requested a personal loan. But he says you delayed final resolution inordinately and then when pressed rejected it on flimsy grounds."
"Its that damn construction worker isnt it!" Walid shouted slamming the arm of his chair.
"Uncle I had a look at the loan application. There was absolutely nothing wrong with it. Why didnt you approve it?"
Walid looked away. "Tch. Why does everyone keep asking me that. That boy was a brat. He was rude to me. I was teaching him a lesson."
Haddad sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Uncle," he said in a tired pained voice, "didnt you hear what I said about Memo 66? You cant do things like that anymore. You cant even afford mistakes. None of us can."
Walid stared at him uncomprehendingly.
"You could be terminated Uncle."
Walid laughed and waved his hand, "That is nothing. Never happens. What will they do transfer me to Sadr City East branch?"
Haddad stared at Walid in wide eyed shock, "You could be terminated Uncle."
"What is that? Terminated?"
"My God. You could lose your job Uncle."
"Lose my job! They wouldn't dare!"
"Uncle!" Haddad near shouted at the older man's obtuseness. "You dont seem to understand. These are the new orders from the Presidents office. It's not just the Bank, it's all public offices in Baghdad. Maybe all of Iraq. The pay rise comes with a cost."
Walid sat there stunned and let the news percolate.
Later that night, for the first time he spoke to his wife about work things.
"Husband, maybe you should see it as a good change? I mean if you beat your targets they've promised more incentives. We could save up enough for a new car and even get the house repainted? Hanifa is getting close to marriageable age. It will leave such a good impression if the prospective grooms family sees our new house and car."
"Hmmmm. I don't like this though. This is not how things have been."
"Things change husband."
And things indeed changed. Slowly even the old timers started sticking to a half and hour lunch and the afternoon hourlong tea break disappeared completely.
Walid tried his best to adjust. When the young guns with their excessive oil fueled incomes came to purchase securities or borrow money, he found it hard to keep his temper in check but he reminded himself to work on his targets.
One day, Walid arrived at the branch an hour late due to some personal work only to walk in on a major scene.
His old colleague Adnan was being dragged out by two stern police officers. Adnan was cuffed!
"What happened?" Walid hissed to Nabil.
Nabil shook his head and whispered back, "Someone filed a complaint that Adnan asked for a bribe to process his loan prepayment. Hes been let go and a police complaint has been filed."
Walid needed a chair, his legs were shaking too much. A little honey on the top for faster processing had always been a done thing. He had never imagined that one could end up in prison for something like that.
Little by little the Sadr City West branch of the Rafidain bank as well as the rest of the city of Baghdad began to change. The branch opened dot on time, business was conducted with a view to achieving results. A customer on average spent no more than 20 minutes at the branch when earlier 50-60 minutes was the average.
Walid underperformed massively in his first performance review. It was one of the worst experiences of his life. He couldn't help but stutter and shake. Over the past few months he felt as if he had aged a decade. Several of his fellow old timers were in a similarly bad state, unable to adjust to the changes.
It wasnt just the branch, the streets were clean as the trash was picked up like clockwork. The police functioned like as if they were the Rashidun themselves. Walids elderly neighbour Bashir had told him over Sheesha one evening that he had finally had enough of the upstairs residents dogs barking throughout the night and went to file a complaint. Not only did the police take down his complaint without a bribe, they also gave him a copy of the report which carried a guarantee of a follow up. And lo and behold the very next day two policemen visited the neighbour and forced the man to have muzzles for his dogs who the police determined could indeed not keep from barking.
Walids eldest son had left home without so much as a see-you-soon and called only when he had reached Tikrit where he had been hired in the construction of the Tikrit transport terminus, intended to be the crown jewel of the Spine of Iraq.
Walids wife had also grown bold as she saw that the other wives of the neighbourhood were benefiting from the increased prosperity and sense of freedom. One fine day she threw her burqas away and without asking for Walids permission she took to wearing abayas. When he complained she told him coldly," Why dont you first focus on your work and get more bonus money. All the other wives talk about is the new additions to the living room. Samaira gets to wear jeans at home and her husband has allowed her to enroll in evening classes. You don't let me have any freedom nor any nice things."
Chastened Walid began to keep his head down and his earlier confidence evaporated. He didn't know how long he could keep up with the new way of working. But then, like mana from heaven, Haddad announced that the Bank was offering a VRS, voluntary retirement package to all employees with more than 20 years of experience.
Walid could hear the Angels sing when he heard of the package. He had to run the details by his wife, but when she seemed recalcitrant he cried and said he couldn't keep up with the work. She begrudgingly assented and the very next day he began the process for retirement.
At the exit interview, feeling chipper after a long time he told Haddad confidently, "Enjoy this new Iraq while it lasts son. It wont last."
When Walid departed, Haddad shook his head and muttered, "Fucking idiot."