How I engineered the removal of the sign: “Travelling to Nigeria and Haiti is Dangerous. Travelers, Beware,” posted at the boarding point at all the Airports in the United States of America in the late nineties.
Introduction:
She is a Patent Attorney, a Caucasian and a dear friend. At that time she could confidently write the story of my life, my dreams as well as my aspirations. Through her Dad, she became close to this retired African American Professor who happened to know another African American Professor who is the Husband of a prominent African American Lady to be honored by the Nigerian Consulate General in New York City, New York. This Lady - the Special Guest of Honor - was one of the distinguished African American personalities at the Festival of Art and Culture, popularly known as FESTAC, held in Nigeria decades ago.
My friend knew of the event just when it was happening the next day. And she told her Dad's friend "this is an event Alex would have loved to attend." And she was told to call me. She did call later asking, if I would like to go to New York (describing the event), and I told her yes, provided I have my invitation letter before leaving for New York - I didn't want to expose myself to any form of humiliation at the gate in the hands of the Nigerian diplomatic staff over invitation card or the lack of it. She then contacted her Professor friend who in turn contacted his contact in New York. The following morning, my invitation card arrived via an overnight express mail. The retired Professor and I drove from Boston to New York City in my friend’s brand new car she provided for us to make the journey comfortable for me.
An Encounter with Dr. Ozichi Alimole, the Minister Counselor in charge of Information at the Nigerian Consulate in New York City, New York.
At the party, I dressed up in a complete vintage Hausa chain-embroidered half-length kaftan made of white Guinea Brocade fabric, tailored in Nigeria. The Professor was also regally dressed in Yoruba three-piece Agbada, Buba, and Sokoto that I provided for him for the occasion. Though the Professor and I were dressed up in Nigerian attire, we sat among the American guests on the left-hand side, facing the Podium. While the Nigerians guests and the staff of the Mission occupied the right-hand side, visible and beautifully dressed up in our rich traditional attire, too.
As we waited for the party to start, somehow, I was ambushed, completely sandwiched by some African American guests in the audience who were admiring me and my attire. A tall and elderly looking African American – a retired Deputy Police Commissioner - and his family members treated me as if I was some kind of an object of attraction. Not only did they admire me and my traditional dress – just two-piece kaftan - they were touching me and feeling my attire right there at the center of the reception hall. The retired DPC later gave me his business card and pleaded with me to supply him and his friends exactly what I was wearing, and at whatever cost.
Right there, he gave me the measurement of his waist, neck, leg, and sleeve, and I scribbled them down on the back of his business card – which I still have with me as I type this piece. Initially, I was a little bit embarrassed, but later I felt cool. After all, it was a cultural event; I am well-groomed in the art of Kingship, this time, I am very willing to project my country rich cultural heritage to the African American guests. After all, there are other Nigerians around and richly dressed up, too. These family just came over to me, without solicitation, while don't I enjoy the moment. And I did - standing tall majestically as a true Mandigo, relishing every bit of the moment.
After about an hour of waiting, the party started, and a gentleman by the name, Dr. Ozichi J. Alimole, Minister-Counselor, Consul for Commerce & Information, was introduced. And he went on to introduce the Head of the Mission. He was visibly in charge of the event. During the pre-dinner cocktail, and while people were making friends and discussing business, I came face to face with Dr. Alimole. We greeted and shook hands. I actually initiated the contact, knowing that I have a question to ask him. Without much ado, I took caution and social ethics to the wind, and I asked him if he has traveled of late out of New York City through LaGuardia or JFK Airport. And he replied yes.
(At the time of the event in 1999 I was working part-time on weekends, at Logan Airport in Boston Massachusetts, while studying for my MCSE Certification. Then, at the departure point inside of the airport, there was a sign – boldly written and conspicuously placed – stating: Travelling to Nigerian and Haiti is Dangerous. On inquiry, I was told that they have the same sign at all the Airports in the US. As one who unrepentantly wears the Nigerian toga all over me, the sign was disgusting and repellent).
So, meeting a top Nigerian diplomat and challenging him to action, I said to myself, is the best way to start the party. I asked my new friend if he has seen the sign I described above. He said yes. And what efforts have you made or contemplating to have it removed? I asked, staring at his face. The man did not say a word. To say that he was stunned beyond comprehension was an understatement. Nevertheless, he was unruffled; I must give it to him. He didn't offer me a further response. He simply excused me and moved on to chat with other guests. And I went back to my seat to relish my drink, satisfied that the journey is not wasted after all. But Dr. Alimole was not done with me yet.
Few Minutes later, as soon as he completed his introductory speech, he pointed his hand at my direction, right there at the podium, signaling that I should come over. I looked back, thinking that he was talking to someone else. My Professor friend sitting beside me tapped me and said, Alex, he is pointing at you. I stood up and we walked towards each other. At that point, the MC invited the Head of the Mission to the podium for his speech.
As Dr. Alimole and I walk towards each other, I made up my mind to apologize to him for my hostile questioning. As he approached me, he brought out his wallet, removed his elegantly embroidered official business card and handed it over to me. Getting closer, he said, my friend, I don’t know who you are, but guys like you are the ones I want to be seeing in this place anytime we have events or social functions. As I tried to apologize, he cut me off, saying, you don't have to. I need Nigerians like you here. (By the way, I still have his business card and that of the Deputy Police Commissioner, with me).
I told him that being a student, and the fact that I live in Boston would make attendance financially and logistically problematic, if not impossible. He was seemingly disappointed that I should turn down such an open, and of course, rare invitation. That was our last meeting. As I walk to my seat, my Professor friend was beaming with a smile. When I sat down, he tapped me on the back and said: "That was a smart move, young man; I can see why your girlfriend is so fond of you and insisted we send your invitation card overnight."
When the retired Professor told the Special Guest (name withheld) and her husband at their New York residence (where both of us spent the night) about the discussion I had with Dr. Alimole, they were very ecstatic. She said I can see you working at the consulate soon. I reminded them that it doesn't work that way; diplomatic appointments are most often handled at the home front, and most often, on whom you know.
Memo to Dr. Alimole and the "one-page memo is the best" as per advice that I received from Dr. Jegede of the Nigerian Law School in Lagos, Nigeria some years ago.
When I got back to Boston, I decided to collaborate with Dr. Alimole to remove that sign at the US Airports, by sending him a note. He treated me with respect, and I have to assist him to find solutions to the problem I identified. I drafted a three-page-memo, which I later edited to one page, following the advice I received from Professor Jegede, the former Secretary of the Nigerian Law School in Lagos when I was a student at the institution.
Then, at the Nigerian Law School in Lagos, faced with accommodation problems, I decided to do the impossible by petitioning Professor Jege on why he should give me a bed space. There were about 350 of us from Edo State at the time at the Law School that academic year. So, due to the acute shortage of accommodation, the Law School could only provide for Edo State Students about 19 beds, which we had to ballot for. I took part in the ballot and did not win. Then, news came about some vacancies at the old hostel at Igbosere. Eligibility at the Igbosere hostel was a little bit different. To be granted a bed space, you would have to draft a letter and had it stamped or signed or approved by an important family member - father, mother, uncle, aunt or cousin - with a good or recognized standing or status in the society. I did not meet any of the above requirements.
So, I decided to be my own Oga in the society - I spent a whole night drafting the letter, which I later condensed from six pages to three pages. The following morning, I matched to the office of the Secretary, Professor Jegede with the petition in my hand and handed it over to his Secretary. To my greatest surprise, he invited me over into his room and told me, congratulation. I have never seen anything like this in the history of this Law School. Your petition is approved. But next time, make it a one-page-memo, especially when you're in a situation where you have to convince a superior to do your bidding, he counseled me.
Then, at the Nigerian Law School in Lagos, faced with accommodation problems, I decided to do the impossible by petitioning Professor Jege on why he should give me a bed space. There were about 350 of us from Edo State at the time at the Law School that academic year. So, due to the acute shortage of accommodation, the Law School could only provide for Edo State Students about 19 beds, which we had to ballot for. I took part in the ballot and did not win. Then, news came about some vacancies at the old hostel at Igbosere. Eligibility at the Igbosere hostel was a little bit different. To be granted a bed space, you would have to draft a letter and had it stamped or signed or approved by an important family member - father, mother, uncle, aunt or cousin - with a good or recognized standing or status in the society. I did not meet any of the above requirements.
So, I decided to be my own Oga in the society - I spent a whole night drafting the letter, which I later condensed from six pages to three pages. The following morning, I matched to the office of the Secretary, Professor Jegede with the petition in my hand and handed it over to his Secretary. To my greatest surprise, he invited me over into his room and told me, congratulation. I have never seen anything like this in the history of this Law School. Your petition is approved. But next time, make it a one-page-memo, especially when you're in a situation where you have to convince a superior to do your bidding, he counseled me.
So, remembering that counsel, I reduced my handwritten memo to Dr. Alimole to one page. Leadership is about engagement. It is not hard to rule the World if you know what to do. In a chronological order, I itemized the actions he has to take to ensure the removal. Using the address in the business card which also corresponds with the address on my invitation card to the event, I mailed the letter directly to Dr. Alimole at the Consulate General of Nigerian by registered mail.
In the US, it is generally taken as a profound truth that once a letter is properly addressed and stamped, it is taken as delivered. I did not hear from Dr. Alimole. The meeting at the Consulate was my first and last meeting with him.
However, in about a month of our meeting and the postage of the letter, the unexpected happened. The sign was gone from all the Airports in the United States of America. Since that chance encounter at the Nigerian House in New York with Dr. Alimole - about fifteen years ago - I have not seen him or spoken to him again.
Conclusion
Raw sense, common sense, intellectualism; it doesn't matter, as long as the system is made to work. I was not happy with the sign and I wanted it removed the first day I saw it. I am not the type that would resort to some phony assent to portray myself as non-Nigerian at the airport. As a Nigerian, and with due regards to wisdom and understanding of our rich culture and lifestyle at home, I felt we were unfairly labeled. Granted, we have some overzealous characters at the Customs and Immigration sections at our International Airport, it doesn't translate to a blanket blacklisting of the entire race as dangerous. And I made up my mind that the sign must go.
The problem was, I wasn't in any position to initiate removal or in a position to counsel or pressure any Nigerian to execute the removal. Simply put, I was not in a position to act - I do not work in any government agency directly or remotely connected with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. So, meeting Dr. Alimole and confronting him was the best I could do in the circumstance. I was not willing to keep quiet and dissipate the rare opportunity. Even, if it requires embarrassing a distinguished diplomat to accomplish my goal, it is a risk worth taking. I am glad he came back to me after his speech. I would not have written that letter if he had not taken the pain to approach me once again to appreciate my confrontation.
The bigger lesson here is that Nigeria has men and women with a big ego and big dreams. Yes, we have the men and the women innately blessed with the crafts and visions to reinvent Nigeria and position it to be self-supporting and where no President will take to globetrotting in search of handouts or ideas
So, it is my fervent belief that until selfless, creative, intelligent and patriotic Nigerians are placed in positions calling for refined minds and informed judgment, and at the same time, given free hands to operate, our best as a country will continue to elude us, and the calls for disintegration, restructuring or true federalism will not know end. By the way, the solutions I suggested before the honorable counselor in my memo cost us nothing.
The problem was, I wasn't in any position to initiate removal or in a position to counsel or pressure any Nigerian to execute the removal. Simply put, I was not in a position to act - I do not work in any government agency directly or remotely connected with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. So, meeting Dr. Alimole and confronting him was the best I could do in the circumstance. I was not willing to keep quiet and dissipate the rare opportunity. Even, if it requires embarrassing a distinguished diplomat to accomplish my goal, it is a risk worth taking. I am glad he came back to me after his speech. I would not have written that letter if he had not taken the pain to approach me once again to appreciate my confrontation.
The bigger lesson here is that Nigeria has men and women with a big ego and big dreams. Yes, we have the men and the women innately blessed with the crafts and visions to reinvent Nigeria and position it to be self-supporting and where no President will take to globetrotting in search of handouts or ideas
So, it is my fervent belief that until selfless, creative, intelligent and patriotic Nigerians are placed in positions calling for refined minds and informed judgment, and at the same time, given free hands to operate, our best as a country will continue to elude us, and the calls for disintegration, restructuring or true federalism will not know end. By the way, the solutions I suggested before the honorable counselor in my memo cost us nothing.
I initiated a process, which Dr. Alimole, in his official capacity, patriotically executed, without questioning my age, educational background, or experience in government or diplomacy. In the end, we restored the image and dignity of our beloved country of birth, even when no one was watching us. It is about engagement. And that, once again, is my definition of leadership - vision, creativity, and audacity. Where ever Dr. Alimole is today, I wish him the very best in life and in his career at the Foreign Office.
Mr. Alex Aidaghese LL.M., MCSE.
January 10, 2013
Mr. Alex Aidaghese LL.M., MCSE.
January 10, 2013