An Unexpected
Invitation
I was invited to give
a keynote address to the Federal Government College Odogbolu, Class of '98, on
the general topics of alumni, networking, life and purpose. After a few light
jokes about how I had been surreptitiously co-opted into the activity, I began
my address.
This cohort of
successful people are entering middle age; they are mid-career, raising
families and will face challenges ahead. I suppose there was a view that I
could share some of my life experiences to help them avoid a mid-life crisis
and attend to healthy life choices.
It was an honour to
meet the Class of '98, and I wish them Godspeed.
My Lead-in
FEGO Class of '98,
you graduated in the Silver Jubilee year of your school's founding; quite
auspicious.
My history with
Odogbolu is somewhat long and interesting. In January 1976, we were living in
Kaduna when my parents had the crazy idea of sending me to a secondary school
close to where they were born, in Ijesha-Ijebu, so that I might be imbibed with
Yoruba culture.
Baptist Academy,
Mayflower School, Odogbolu Grammar School, Remo Secondary School (RSS); I
cannot remember the school in Ibadan where I sat the common entrance
examination. Did I have a life of privilege? I flew in from Kaduna, and there
was someone to collect me and take care of me for the duration of my visit.
I do not know why I
was not put forward for any of the unity schools, even though I realise there
were opportunities for those. I suppose my primary school environment in Jos
and Kaduna was a disadvantage to my becoming integrated into Nigeria. The schools
were international, with a high percentage of Europeans, Chinese and Japanese,
so I was not really growing into a Nigerian per se.
Odogbolu Grammar
School and Remo Secondary School both offered me admission. I took the latter
because the former's campus bordered on a graveyard; I had had the strangest
things happen to me at ten, and that settled my decision.
Two years ago, my
nephew was admitted to the Federal Government College Odogbolu (FEGO) at the
age of nine. A year later, his brother, with whom he shares a birthday though
they are two years apart, joined him. They are probably the youngest in their
year group, just as I was in primary school and then in secondary school.
I find it strange
that I am giving an address to an alumni association because, whilst I made a
few friends at RSS, my memories of the five years I spent there are not ones I
cherish that much. We had to be street smart, even as we stood out because of our
accents. We were bedwetters; back then it was thought a weakness rather than
something psychological. There was the occasional bully, and the use of
collective punishment was rife. Thankfully, the core of individuality,
inquisitiveness and fearlessness could not be beaten out of me.
Apart from on
Facebook, I have no enduring friends from the RSS Class of '81. I met up with
old schoolmates from my primary school after 41 years in 2016. I still have
friends from Lacostech; from YabaTech, where no one believed I was 16 when I
was admitted; and from the Federal Polytechnic Ilaro, where, on my first day, I
met a junior from secondary school who was in his final year whilst I was
starting afresh.
Have Your Purpose
Considering the good
fortune and opportunities I had from birth through secondary school, the four
years afterwards were sobering. I attended two polytechnics and ended up with
nothing. My third attempt, born of travail and raw experience, widened my perspective
on what I could achieve. I was no longer haunted by my past or fearful of the
future. I simply determined that, by 35, I would be able to stand amongst my
peers unashamed of what I had done with my life. I began to see good results
already at 24.
Do Something Radical
In 2000, just after
the Millennium bug issue, I was having trouble finding a new job. I was
attending interviews and getting good reviews, but no offers. A mentor advised
me to speak to an occupational psychotherapist, who concluded that I was
suffering a mid-life crisis ten years early. His advice was to consider a
career change, perhaps go back to school, or even emigrate to another country.
I took the hint and
started looking for opportunities in Belgium, Germany and the Netherlands.
Meanwhile, I got a job in the UK and, on a day off, flew out to the Netherlands
for an interview. I got that job, and with it 13 years of life in Holland.
Have a plan, do
things in the interim, but do not lose your focus and do not be distracted.
Embrace Youthful
Aspirations
When I was about to
buy an apartment in Amsterdam, the first thing I did was ask the estate agent
to feel my hands. She said they were soft. Indeed, I retorted, I do not do DIY;
I want a place I need not do anything to, and please complete the deal in six
weeks. She did.
The couple I bought
my home from were in their mid-70s. They had lived in Eindhoven for 25 years
and could easily have lived out the rest of their days there, but they bought
an apartment in Amsterdam off the plan and came to live there for almost four years.
During that time, she became the chairman of the homeowners' association.
Then they decided
that, because of their age, they needed a place where they could receive better
care. They sold up in Amsterdam for a healthy profit and bought a riverside
residential care apartment in Arnhem. I still wish I could make decisions like
that, whatever age I am.
Then there is my
uncle, who was and still is the playful adult in my life, someone I can talk to
about anything. I can be utterly irreverent, yet always respectful. He was one
of the foremost insurers in Nigeria, a fellow of the Chartered Institute of Insurers
and an examiner for the council.
In the space of a few
years, he lost his car a couple of times to armed robbers, so he decided to
move to the UK, where he is now settled. He called me one day and said he
wanted to go back to school to study petroleum engineering. I asked whether he
was going for a master's programme; he said he was applying for a bachelor's
degree.
Obviously, I thought
him too distinguished for such a somewhat lowly pursuit, but he expressed such
humility in his decision to take it on.
He was already 60. He
tells me the course was one of the hardest he ever attended. He had failed so
many examinations from adolescence into adulthood that my father, on returning
from the UK, promised him £10 if he passed. That £10 debt is still a running
joke in our conversations.
He stood out
throughout the course, the older man, wise from a world of experience in
C-suite jobs. Students and faculty alike were always seeking his viewpoint on
many things. By graduation, he had been gravely ill and was recuperating, so
the university arranged to collect him from hospital to attend the ceremony.
When his name was called, along with the citations, he received a standing
ovation.
Such a thing can
never happen if you are not ready to embrace your youth and your youthful
aspirations. Do something new; assess yourself against your aspirations rather
than against others; believe in yourself even if no one else does; and never
let your failures define you today or in your future.
Recently, on the
radio, I heard Isabel Allende asked, "How do you fall in love at 76?"
She answered, "Like 26, only with a little more urgency."
Identity Is a
Construct
I have a keen sense
of my identity: I am an Englishman of Nigerian heritage. I arrived at that idea
of who I am when I lived in the Netherlands and had to answer the question of
where I was originally from.
I was born in
England, grew up in England and Nigeria, then lived in the Netherlands for
almost 13 years. Why am I not Nigerian? I was like everyone else until my
accent betrayed me. To so many, I was the child born abroad; I was not entirely
accepted in Nigeria.
My mother tongue is
English, but my mother's tongue is Yoruba. I am proud to say that, even as an
Aje-butter, I speak Yoruba to a very good standard. My Hausa, however, needs
some work; I was in the North only until 1977.
Identity is a
construct of influences: many good, some bad, and a few you need to discard
completely. Accept who you are, and do not let anyone question the legitimate
version of you.
On an Uber ride last
week, the driver told me about his extraordinarily brilliant nephew, who had
excellent A-level results but could not make it through the Oxbridge interviews
to gain admission. I knew what the problem was: much had gone into academic achievement
but very little into identity and personality development. The poor chap was
cowed by the environment.
Community is good,
but you also need to interact with wider society and have a sense of
confidence, completely different from arrogance; a healthy self-esteem,
completely different from feeling an impostor; and the ability to express
yourself clearly, completely different from being loud and vulgar.
When I returned to
the UK from Nigeria in 1990, I already had a good sense of who I was. My
blackness was always part of me; anyone who had an issue with it, that was
their problem, not mine. I also had a good sense of history. So, when someone
trying to be offensively racist said to me, "100 years ago I would have
shot you," I was immediately able to respond, "200 years ago, I would
have eaten you."
Be a sleeping dog,
but be ready to bite when kicked; probably take the leg off, if you must.
Let the best
influences of culture, of beliefs, of location, of friendships, of
communication, of reading and of learning define who you are in personality, in
expression, in empathy, in humanity and in the pursuit of happiness.
Your Health Is Wealth
Ten years ago, what
appeared to be athlete's foot had become painful and was beginning to weep. At
the back of my mind, I thought it was serious, but I was willing it away. A
residual element of my religious upbringing was interfering with my reasoning; thoughts
about faith, miracles and so on.
Then I decided to
visit my GP. She took one look at the sole of my foot and said, "This
looks serious, I need to refer you." The first referral, two days later,
led to another four days after that, because of the intervening weekend.
The professor came to
examine me and said, "You cannot go home; we have a bed for you
upstairs." That is how my treatment for cancer started. I did not realise
how serious it was until the eighth day in hospital, when the professor came
round to tell me: "We can treat this, but it depends on how your body
takes the treatment. If it can, you'll be fine; otherwise, you probably have
five weeks." Five weeks!
I spent 18 days in
hospital and then five months of gruelling chemotherapy. Sometimes I could not
keep my food down for days.
Because of cancer, I
lost everything: status, wealth, my home of ten and a half years, prospects.
But I did not lose hope, and definitely not the will to live.
Part of my life
education had been the ability to let go of things, not to let things have a
hold on me. Because of that, I have been able to go on to new things, do new
things, think new things, achieve new things and prosper in life, despite the
old things of the past; because they pass, and in the process you are given a
better story. In learning to let go, I realised that an open hand is one that
is ready to receive.
Consider your health;
go for scheduled and regular check-ups. I have a better idea of my health
situation than my medical notes can provide. I have been fortunate to be
treated as an intelligent patient, even though, with hindsight, I have been
foolish.
One identity
construct that has helped me get the best outcomes for my health and treatment
was telling two professors of medicine, "It is my body first, before it is
your guinea pig." They listened and backed down from the intrusive and
uncomfortable course they had planned.
Key Points
These are some of the
key points from my address.
·
Do not be afraid of failure; be afraid of never trying.
o
I
have failed at many things; the lessons have become part of my world of
experience.
o
I
say do it, rather than regret not doing it at all.
·
An opportunity once lost can be regained after a
temporary setback.
o
I
have had many setbacks, but never entirely lost opportunities.
·
Accept your vulnerabilities; they are part of your
humanity.
o
I
needed therapy, and when I went for it, it helped me and enriched the therapist
too.
·
Embrace change and be prepared for it in every area of
your life, because if you hate change, you will hate irrelevance even more.
o
I
have not survived 31 years in IT by being stagnant; I have had to adapt and
improve continually. I have been a self-employed contractor since 1995.
·
Learn to rest, learn to play, find time for yourself and
do new things.
o
And
suddenly I found this liking for classical music; travel calms me down; I love
quirky things.
·
The greatest thing you can pass down is example: an
example of contentment, which is not the lack of ambition; an example of
resilience, so that you never fold in adversity; an example of empathy, walking
a long, hard mile in another's shoes before you dare assume you know better.
o
I
will probably not inherit much from my parents, but these are things that have
stood the test of time.
·
Everyone has a story; you can tell yours too.
o
In
the ordinariness of our lives, when you begin to count your blessings, you
realise how extraordinary your life has been.
In Closing
In speaking to this
alumni gathering, it is 21 years since you left FEGO. I hope it is more than
the mere fact that you attended school together that has brought you here. I
hope there is a friendliness that goes beyond acquaintance; a love deeper than
mere concern; an engagement that ensures no one of you falls to the ground; a
brotherliness and sisterliness that means each of you has another to whom you
can turn for advice, direction and even admonition.
Yes, you can gather
to laugh and play, but there must also be times when you speak the truth
frankly and without equivocation. We all need some tough talk alongside the
support to see it through. We cannot afford to be ashamed amongst true friends.
FEGO Class of 1998, I
commend you: live well, live strong, live long and live happily.
Thank you.
