The UK: Why Kemi Badenoch is not the poster child

The lady runs to lead

Kemi Badenoch’s elimination from the contest to lead the Tory Party and hence become the Prime Minister must have been a great disappointment for her, though it would have been well received in some quarters.

Kemi Badenoch, née Adegoke, is someone I have encountered since the mid-2000s when she appeared to camp in the comment sections of a blog run by Jeremy Weate and controversial does not begin to describe the views and opinions she shared.

Now, if Kemi Badenoch had been successful in her quest to lead the Tory Party, it would have presented the first time that an ethnic minority led the United Kingdom if we are to discount Benjamin Disraeli’s Jewish heritage when he was Prime Minister in the 19^th Century.

Everything but representing

In her case, besides the issue of her identity, race and heritage, there is little about her that is common to the apparent identity constituency people might think she represents. We are consequently products of influences, circumstances and situations more than of the ethnic minorities we are, and it is essential that we begin to disabuse the view that ethnic minorities represent a monolithic or homogenous political leaning.

Beyond Kemi Badenoch, the issue is simple. Much as having an ethnic minority ahead might present inspiration and possibility to the youth aspiring to be significant members of communities and society, we need to ensure we are choosing the right examples demonstrative of embracing common humanity with all its diversity.

That is not essentially codified in having similar backgrounds as I would be the first to say that from a reflective and policy standpoint, Kemi Badenoch and I are so radically different and divergent as it might be as the east is far away from the west.

Equipping us to become roles

Yet, we have work to do. Our parents before us and similarly, many of us have been pioneers or first movers in various areas of endeavour. We did not see people like us in our roles or ahead, rather, we, from what was imbued in us through education, opportunity, possibly privilege and influence, forged ahead to become recognised and respected in the things that we do.

In some way, we had role models that did not look like us or come from our kind of background. Quite as we might want to have visible role models and high achievers that might give our children a sense of what is possible, those scenarios might well not be as packaged or presented for them to see as they grow up.

It is then incumbent on us to give our children the tools and the wherewithal to be able to walk into places where they might be the first and only, the confidence to be able to hold their own, the assertiveness to be able to speak with a strong voice and the mien not to be caught out in a victim syndrome when situations, opportunities, or encounters turn sour.

Choosing the right examples

Sadly, I have seen too many academically high achieving ethnic minority people unable to realise their full potential because they are lacking in confidence or have been emasculated by a system and institutionalised settings that suggest they do not belong, where, by merit, they are more than capable, if given the opportunity.

I doubt the likes of Kemi Badenoch making political progress of the sort she aspired to would open doors for anyone like her, even as it might be uncharitable to suggest that she having gained opportunity is kicking the ladder away for those like her. Even one might be inclined to feel she is trying too hard to endear herself to the radical rather than a broader embrace of inclusivity.

Indeed, we can do with exemplary and amazing achievement amongst ethnic minorities, if we cannot agree, my view is Kemi Badenoch is not that example, her controversial track record highlighted in The Independent would suggest we deserve better. [The Independent: 10 of Kemi Badenoch's biggest controversies as she is knocked out of Tory leadership contest]

Coronavirus streets between continents - LXVIII

It is still here

One statistic that rarely makes the news these days is the number of COVID-19 infections anywhere, back home in the UK, through countries that one does transit and now in South Africa where I will be for a month. When I left the UK last week, the rate of infections was rising, and the government website provides figures of 116,312 new cases in the 7 days to the 26^th of June 2022.

Every indication would suggest this dreadful virus is not beyond us, even for the fully vaccinated and boosted, the risk remains and so precautions are necessary which I barely see anyone adhere to. On my flight from Manchester to Amsterdam, there were a handful of face mask wearers. Apart from when I needed a sip of water, I had my face mask on the whole time.

Carefree and without

On the Amsterdam to Cape Town leg of about 11 hours, whilst it was advised we don face masks, it was neither enforced nor announced. Left to their devices, a majority chose not to wear a face mask for the entire flight, in my case, I was not ready to take the risk except for the times I had drinks and meals.

I was first to disembark the plane in Cape Town and first through health checks and passport control, and until during the Ebola virus times, there was no one standing around with a temperature gun, life has returned to uneasy normalcy that is as daring and it could be foolhardy.

On one Uber ride the driver half remonstrated that face masks were optional, we did not need to wear face masks, I would rather not have the option of getting infected in the remotest way, so I keep my face mask on and more times than not, I am the strange looking one because I have my face covered and everyone else is happily without.

No courting danger

Seeing that I have just come through a bout of flu after my arrival in Cape Town that took me out of effective ability to do much for myself, talk less of anyone else, much that I desired to attend church on Sunday, I was not up to it. The face mask is a temporary inconvenience and I have more than enough in supply to last months.

In my view, we still need to be careful, people who have had COVID-19 though mild in their symptoms have not had the kind of recovery that represents a complete eradication of the effects of the virus, I would rather err on the side of caution than walk bare-chested into the lion’s den of a raging pandemic. We have to learn to live with COVID-19, but smartly too.

Thought Picnic: On strength to my bones

Changes bringing changes

Generally, I would think I am strong and doing my best to keep healthy. It is however likely that with the change of environments from Manchester to Cape Town even though winter in Cape Town would pass for a mild summer at home I became slightly indisposed.

Irritation in the throat and a bit of a cough, before you knew it, I was completely sapped of energy of verve. Walking around our apartment, I was shuffling my feet rather than properly lifting them off the floor; not a good feeling at all.

A nurse without equal

I sicken too easily, and recovery can be brisk, once I have taken a good rest and slept the apparent fatigue off. I must commend Brian for his care, I guess he is worried sick seeing me literally incapacitated and he has seen this quite a few times too.

He rustles up a ginger, honey and lemon drink which is quite helpful and if he can persuade me to take a vitamin, it might well be strength to my bones. I hate popping pills apart from the ones I have been prescribed and for the aches and pains, Paracetamol with codeine gets to the root of the problem. I am perking up and feeling stronger, I won’t be doing any domestic chores today.

I put it down to change and the need to acclimatise taking comfort from stepping out onto the balcony to view Table Mountain and the beaches of Camps Bay, in one sweeping turn of the head. We love Cape Town, and this is where we meet to love.

Rewards of privilege for loyalty

Comfort or no travel

For some, travel can be quite stressful, and I can understand how that can happen. When I decide to leave my home on a journey, the needs for comfort and ease are paramount in my mind. The journey is as important as the destination and the purpose of the journey, there is no point in leaving home if part of that experience presents distress, discomfort, or suffering.

Having been a keen traveller for decades, I have stuck with certain brands and built a kind of loyalty account with them that has benefits. Things like priority check-in, for instance, mean I do not have to languish in long queues, fast-tracking through security or passport control, or cooling off in the lounge, which suggests one is relaxed long before boarding the flight.

In praise of loyalty schemes

There are indeed more affordable options for booking flights or hotels, but you do not get to build a customer profile that earns loyalty bonuses in the long term. I have booked accommodation with hotels.com for almost 10 years. For every 10 nights booked, you get a reward stamp equivalent to the average cost of those nights to offset the cost of a future booking. I have redeemed over 50 nights and have over 10 in hand.

This has saved me over £1,500 in accommodation costs. Sometimes, a very expensive room in the high season is halved in cost using a reward night.

Obviously, loyalty schemes are not for everyone, but if you do something often enough, it might well make sense to enter their loyalty scheme if they have one. I have flown KLM + AirFrance for about 20 years, and the frequency of my travel has earned me a platinum card that opens doors of privilege that I use well.

Running the gauntlet of lazy recruitment agents

Anything but able

I want to believe that my LinkedIn profile is good enough and I would be the first to say any profile can be improved upon, but there is no perfect profile, we are just trying to project our best selves.

However, I get barraged with lots of emails from recruitment and talent acquisition specialists, though I am left wondering what the specialism is, as it is becoming obvious to me that they neither read nor assess my profile before proposing totally unsuitable roles that do not fit my experience, expertise, location, or remuneration requirements.

It would seem their professional acumen is vying for a world record in some sort of whack-a-mole exercise of flooding prospects in the hope that one or a few might be hit hard enough to be responsive.

Interest me, engage me

Too many times, I am asked to forward my CV on scant job information, they, thinking I would be interested when they have neither interested nor engaged me.

If you are contacting me, I would hope you have first read my profile and the embedded CV, your specialism coming to the fore by treating me as a professional, through reviewing my experience, roles, responsibilities, and broader profile, rather than as a mercenary for hire.

Then, interest me with a useful job profile along with the associated remuneration range - cut to the chase with the view that we do not want to waste each other's time.

If I am interested, you will get a response and we can have a discussion about the role and the prospects. Recruiters need to get better, the slap-dash approach is becoming an annoyance, hence this post.

Uncle Cash!

A giant has fallen

“I agree with them.” That was the last message I got from him to which I responded, “I see.”. WhatsApp was our regular mode of communication typing out messages to each other about our health, our wellbeing, and other developments.

Uncle Cash of all men was the most significant and most consequential person in the making of who I have become, I can say without equivocation that without him and his intervention in my life at the particular time that he did, I would probably not be writing any story and definitely not the one I have woken up to write this morning.

Only last night, I was thinking about sending him a message to inform him that I will soon be travelling to South Africa, I vacillated and thought, I would do that by the weekend. Alas! That time has gone.

There is a small question of an unpaid debt that has been a canon in our shared stories, and that is where I will begin. When we returned from the UK in late 1970, two impressions were made on my uncle, the first of a precocious boy who spoke only English darting about the place, for which I earned the moniker Ọmọ ìlú òyìnbó (The boy born abroad) to this day, then secondly, he was having difficulties passing his West African School Certificate (WASC) examinations that my father promised him £10, if he excels.

He went on to live a more than excellent and fulfilled life, that family debt for success, yet unpaid. When he visited us, I would get tickled to exhaustion, he was humorous, playful, funny, and approachable.

In early 1986, he became my guardian, I had run away from home and was in a totally estranged situation from my father and his near relations. Uncle Cash allowed me the courage of my convictions, he could be brutal with others, but he was always, always kind, and empathetic with me, treating me with such dignity and respect, usually against tradition or convention, that I had leeway and confidence to talk to him about literally everything that concerned me. I never had that kind of openness with my parents or anyone else, he ushered me into responsible adulthood.

Uncle Cash was a giant and a pillar, I knew I could have a candid conversation with him. At times, he would say to me, “Akin, you are dangerous with the way you write, let’s talk instead.” I am a product of the example of daring and self-assuredness that he instilled in me for the 4 years that he provided support and guidance on how to live with honour and integrity, not compromising on your principles and your vision.

Uncle Cash built a career in insurance to become a fellow of the Chartered Institute of Insurers, an industry stalwart and examiner, and circumstances in Nigeria led him to emigrate to the UK where like he was wont to do, he reinvented himself still generously impacting lives when he informed me that he was going back to university to do a bachelor’s degree, in his 60s.

In the classes he attended, the faculty and the university would probably say they did not have a student attending, but a polymath in the experience of life amongst them and for that, at graduation, they arranged to get him from the hospital to be honoured with a commendation and standing ovation.

This tribute hardly captures the stature of the man, Uncle Cash was, much of it would be in the fond memories, the reminiscences, the sudden floods of insight, his voice conveying wisdom and guidance. He was religious, affable, larger than life, a partier, he loved to party. I remember when he and I spent a long weekend in Paris during a visit to mine in Amsterdam, we just had fun.

That is how I want to remember Uncle Cash, a man, a mentor, a counsellor, a confidante, a benefactor, uncle, father, grandfather, friend, Uncle Omo Uncle, sùn re o.

Ìjẹ̀shà-Ìjẹ̀bú: A time for healing

Part I: Ìjẹ̀shà-Ìjẹ̀bú: A town of pain

An appreciation of Baba Cole

Joel Adebambo Idowu popularly known as Baba Cole, that was his nickname and I never met him, he died 4 years before I was born, he was my maternal grandfather. I have only recently begun to hear much about him. There are many ways we are supposed alike, he was an anglophile and an archivist, some sort of encyclopaedia of knowledge.

From what I have learnt and there is much more I need to flesh out, he was a literal man, of considerable influence, a prince of the town and a member of the ruling council of the town. He had three daughters, my mother being the middle one, there is a rumour that there might have been a brother, but no one has confirmed that to me.

Standing true for justice

Much as he respected traditions and conventions, he was not ready to sacrifice people for those causes and for that, he paid the ultimate price. As it transpired, an emissary was sent to our town from the neighbouring town just at the time when certain fetish practices required a stranger to be sacrificed to the town’s deities.

My grandfather made the case that an emissary from the neighbouring town who was to deliver a message and return with a response could not just disappear somewhere between the towns separated by 5 miles of forest and lands, it would be incomprehensible and incredulous. He won the argument, and the stranger was spared to return home.

Sacrificed for integrity

However, some traditionalists took umbrage at his intervention and through a combination of mystical and malevolent acts, my grandfather took on a sudden fit of involuntary body reactions and died. I inferred the rational and the irrational becoming a narrative and that has become the story of my grandfather, he was sacrificed to the malevolent forces in Ìjẹ̀shà-Ìjẹ̀bú when he stood in defence of an innocent person against the system.

That is how at around the age of 19, my mother lost her father and strangely at 19 I also had this break from the concept of Ìjẹ̀shà-Ìjẹ̀bú that grew to epitomise my reticence to visiting Nigeria. If I were to create a narrative, I embody the spirit of my maternal grandfather who is owed more than an apology for the wickedness meted out to him when he rationalised against the irrationality of traditions that should have gone into abeyance.

Beyond redress to healing

I cannot say if one needs to ask for an apology from Ìjẹ̀shà-Ìjẹ̀bú for what happened to my grandfather, much as I am not asking for an apology for what I have experienced with my father. Some things we cannot change, but there is much we can work towards reconciling that we might have the courage to do the greater thing, the boldness to write better stories, and an acknowledgement that we can find some healing after all the real and perceive hurt.

Ìjẹ̀shà-Ìjẹ̀bú has been a spectre, a haunting, a looming danger, sometimes a fearsome place that suggests a mountain of the strangest beings seething with malevolence and evil, or we have just allowed our imaginations to get the better of us and our rationality. It is a process calling for progress. I think my journey has begun.

Narratives matter and they have consequential significance even if they might seem trivial to others. I have had experiences dismissed when what I heard and saw changed me into a completely different person. Much as there are perspectives to have, the more important thing is to seek the good rather than foster the bad. Beyond my introspection and the times, I have had people counsel me, I hope I am amenable to guidance and instruction. One should never be in a position where the only resort is for God to send an ass to talk to you. [Bible Gateway: Balaam, the Donkey and the Angel]