June 17, 2009
Culled from the Nigerian Tribune
TO an average Nigerian, the thought of travelling abroad creates an erroneous and utterly blind impression of a journey to a land where money flows like a river and fortunes rise overnight. So pervasive is this illusion among Nigerians, in particular, that they not only see people who have gone to “european countries’ as swimming in the ocean of dollars or pounds sterling, but also do anything, however shameful, at the slightest, unlawful opportunity, to travel out of the country. The shocking realities of life for whoever has gone abroad, at least once, however, tells a different story.
I was fortunate to win a Fulbright scholarship alongside other eight lucky graduates of English and African languages from Nigeria to teach Yoruba culture and imbibe American culture for 2008/09. The intense vigour and stress that were to follow proved very unbearable for me: the frequent journeys to Lagos, writing examinations, shuttle between Jaja clinics and UCH for medical tests, among others. But all these were made insignificant by the mere thought of going to the United States of America.
When, like a dream, my appointment later came with a university in North Carolina as my host, and with the terms of appointment clearly spelt out, I knew I was not on a money-making mission , but as a cultural ambassador from Nigeria to the USA. With this settled in my heart, I began to prepare mentally for the possible challenges I was to face, especially as a teacher in an American University. I thought of the ‘white’ students, of the classroom, of standing in front of scholars and even of possibly meeting with the immediate past American President, George W. Bush. My thoughts went weird further to visualize the America that accommodates the likes of Chinua Achebe, as well as Abiola Irele and Biodun Jeyifo, both of Havard University; Niyi Osundare, Isidore Okpewho, among others. So high was my spirits that sleep eluded me few days to my departure.
The trip to the supposed “Jerusalem” began on August 11, 2008 at Murtala Mohammed Airport, where our flight took off en route London at midnight. Being in the aircraft for the first time was not a comfortable experience, but courage and faith in God sank whatever fear I had. My arrival in Heathrow marked the beginning of my bewilderment at the level of technological development and perfect orderliness with which the whites run their societies. During my five-hour stay at the airport, I began to compare the Murtala Mohammed Airport with Heathrow. I discovered, to my shock, that the harder I tried, the sadder I became at the unimaginable disparity. Little did I realize that what, in terms of development, I was to witness in my 10-month stay would put me in a state of unspeakable consternation at the way and manner our country is being run.
At Indiana, on my way to Notre Dame University where we were to be orientated, I was completely lost, admiring the streets, roads, buildings and orderliness in business and social activities. I could not, at this stage, stop asking myself if Nigeria, my fatherland endowed with very rich natural resources, was a cursed nation where things never worked. The orientation, for all the Fulbright scholars across the world took place and the experience, I must confess, transcended verbal description.
My arrival at Fayetteville, North Carolina, and what I went through in the first few weeks gave me a frightful realisation of the paradox of life. In my state of absolute stupefication, known and described in America as culture shock, I could not truly stop wondering why many Nigerians would like to pass through hell to travel to America. This may sound strange, but I later realised that ignorance of what life offers in these countries we are dying to travel to is a terrible omen for our people.
My first shock came from the manner in which Americans related with people, especially strangers. Coming from a country where visitors are treated with respect, warmth and utmost care, I expected waiting hands to receive us, cuddle and even possibly conduct us round the campus and town. Alas, I was living in a fool’s paradise. Immediately after we had been welcomed at the airport by some lecturers of the University who drove us straight to where we were to stay for ten months, we were abandoned to our destiny. I moved into my apartment and, for the first time in my life, I was so bored, frustrated and psychologically disturbed that I even wondered if I would not die of loneliness.
Somebody might ask why, since there were students on campus and even some Nigerians in the school. As a matter of fact, there were even more black students in my school than whites, but they were the worst people in terms of human relations. Thus, I had nobody to greet, visit or play with. All you received after greeting them with all enthusiasm and passion was ‘Hi’, and, in a twinkling of an eye, they had vanished. Being a very sociable fellow, I felt very depressed not talking to anyone. The other Fulbright Scholars in my apartment were muslims from Algeria and Bahrain, and a Chinese guy. They never came out of their rooms to say hello. In my desperation to be fully occupied, I turned to the internet but because I was not much used to it back in Nigeria, spending hours on the net gave me terrible feelings. At this stage, moreover, my body reaction to the weather was, on its own, very threatening.
It was in this state of mental torture and health dislocation due to weather changes that I was for eight weeks before I started meeting Nigerians who tried to keep me company, but could not solve the problem satisfactorily because it was all work round the clock, without anything to show for it.
As I was recovering from the psychological trauma, I came to another awful realisation — the fact that dollars did not roll on the streets of America after all. The society is arranged in such a way that you are not much wealthier than your neighbour. The more you earn, the more you spend on tax, rent and health. In fact, almost half of your earnings go into rent. This is so because in your house there are warmers and air conditioning facilities for weather fluctuations. It is in this kind of life that Nigerians in America find themselves. In fact, this simply explains why some of them find it very difficult to send money to their families home. To me, they are poor in every sense. But here in Nigeria, the painful assumption is that whoever is there is wealthier.
I must even confess that I initially fumed at the system in America. But after careful and very deep thinking, I realised that the system encourages America’s achievements in technology, science and politics while the Nigerian system, on the other hand, is responsible for our backwardness and societal decay.
To the average American, wealth is not the issue. It is getting a job, a car and a house to sleep in. That is all. The next thing to do is think of what will benefit the society. This explains why politicians like President Barack Obama went into politics. Their target is to invent and develop their country in any possible way. But in my country, our value system is money and wealth. If a person is not rich, building 10 houses, riding 10 cars and flaunting wealth ostentatiously, the society does not reckon with him. We hardly think of developing and structuring our society towards technological advance-ment.This is why we are 200 years behind the world.
At Durham University, you find our politicians’ sons and daughters living flamboyant lives. Is this how we are going to develop? We are talking of the Niger Delta crisis now and everybody is crying for the heads of the militants. But the painful truth is that these people are fighting for something, albeit the wrong way.
Take a look at the power sector. I was shocked to the marrow when, on my arrival, I slept, for the first time in 10 months, in total darkness. Why can’t we think? Why don’t we sleep and wake up thinking differently? Why are we so cursed by that aspect of our culture which values money more than anything else?
As a cultural ambassador, I was to teach Yoruba language and the entirety of our people’s culture. Doing this provided me with a very bright opportunity to teach and practically demonstrate our culture to university students, children of Cumberland County as well as the Fayetteville community at large. In fact, I did what I can call re-branding tantamount to the one being popularised by the Minister of Information, Prof. Dora Akunyili. I ensured I taught the history of Yoruba race, her progenitor, cradle, the proud warriors and their ever historic achievement. I even went to the extent of revealing our beautiful ways of dressing, our sonorous songs for different and special occasions some of which included Ijala, Orin Ode, Ewi, Rara and Apala. Most often, except when it was cold, I had the privilege of wearing Kembe, Agbada and other modes of Yoruba dresses.
In all the places we were invited for cultural talk, I re-branded by re-orientating the Americans about their wrong perceptions of Nigerians. You see, some Nigerians have done and are still doing the worst over there. Some impregnate girls and run away while some, in a bid to secure green cards, got involved in illegal marriages. Worst still, some forge documents just to live in America. All these come back to us in a very bad and shameful manner. The Americans see and hear them all. In fact, some students in my classes and during my presentations asked some terrible questions about Nigeria which are too shameful to discuss here. I had to re-project our image by debunking some of their ideas about us. So, while Akinyuli is not wrong in attempting to re-brand the nation, it is, to me, an exercise in futility if nothing is seriously done about stinking leadership and our financial value system which in every sense, is the bane of our development. We should, in fact, ask ourselves why Nigerians are dying to leave Nigeria. It is for no other reason than the wrong value system and harsh economic reality occasioned by kleptomaniac nature of our leaders.
This wrong value about money, which has infected the psyche of every Nigerian, most of our people out there don’t always mind committing crimes to realize big money in order to impress people here at home. They consider coming home very shameful without, for instance, pointing to a flashy car bought over there, or a gigantic building erected here while abroad, or bragging of a fat account in a bank. Yes, the problem is, our people here who think when you travel out, your fortunes must have greatly changed. When I returned, you can imagine our people telling me to buy a good car or plots of land and even bless some people with dollars. While I was even there, I received calls from my family members and some friends telling me to either run away or do something, however, illegal, to stay permanently there. I had to be firm in my decision, telling them I signed an agrement to come back home. You can now see where our value system is driving us. The whites don’t think this way. A house, a car and something to eat are simply enough for them. The next line of thought for them is to invent and develop the society.
As maintained earlier, I still cannot understand why the country, despite proliferation of churches, mosques, preachers and even prophets, is still witnessing lootings of treasury, wickedness, inhumanity to man among many other unspeakable vices and atrocities being committed. I logically think the more of these religious activities, the more should be loving, healthy and helpful attitudes towards one another. America by now, is far from being religious, yet love and passion to build the nation and individual exists there. Talk of a nation that is so morally deficient and spiritually backward as of today, it is America. Yet the country, in all spheres of life, keeps advancing. This is exactly what I thought of when I said initially that life is an enigma in which realities present themselves in a paradoxical manner.
As a Fulbrigh Scholar, I did my very best to project my culture in a very positive way. I taught my students the beauty in Yoruba culture. In fact, I tried to explain how sweet and proverbially rich the language is. Thanks to the internet. I was able to show them the cities of Lagos, Abeokuta, Ife and Abuja. I was equally lucky to come across Oriki Ile Yoruba by Babatunde Balogun in which he chanted historically about Ibadan , Egba, Ife, Ijebu, Eko among others. This really thrilled my student who were curious to know more about the culture.
Still in a bid to present what is laudable about my culture, I showed them some movies from Youtube. Movies like Oranmiyan, Oduduwa, Ori, Ifura really proved a point to them that we indeed, have a wonderful culture. This is while I appeal to movie producers to beware of the kind of message they project about our culture to the world.
I remember our Open Day on campus when lecturers would have the opportunity of presenting their courses to both the students of the school and the high school students willing to apply to the university. To attract students to register for courses in Yoruba, I had to dress in my Kembe and Dansiki with Abeti Aja, dancing and dramatically approaching the student as they passed my desk. Completely enthralled, many of them patiently waited to ask some questions and promised to register for the course. In fact, some of them gave me their numbers. You see, I sang our songs, danced personally to them and later explained the meaning to them. Other lecturers even came to watch me dance in the hall. I became the centre of attraction.
Another opportunity I had to be a true Nigerian ambassador was acting the role of Anansi the series of stage plays titled Anansi and Friends from all over the world. I played the key role which is Anansi, a lazy spider from Ghana. At the screening, I emerged the best actor, so I was asked to act the key role. The plays were presented to all school children in Fayetteville as well as the students and lecturers on campus. Lasting for three days, the presentations not only won me accolades, but also recognition in Fayetteville and among the students and lecturers in my school.
Thus till I left, I was called Anansi, the spider.
This takes me to my encouraging moment for parents who ignorantly delight in preventing their children from learning their mother tongues. They prefer their children to speak English alone. This is terribly bad. What they fail to understand is that they stop their children from showing their identity in future which might eventually be the source of livelihood for them. I could not have thought after obtaining a Master in English that I would teach Yoruba in a foreign land. Thanks to my upbringing that was deeply rooted in Yoruba culture, So, parents should encourage their children to combine knowledge of English with that of their languages. One should not affect the other. I am from Abeokuta, and up till now, I still proudly speak the Egba dialect. To some people, who point at their fathers’ house with left hands, speaking their dialects is embarrassing. All this come from a parochial mind. Be yourself and proud of your origin. The truth, however is you can’t speak like the white, however hard you try, and interestingly too, they cannot speak like you. They cannot pronounce your Yoruba or local name. I nearly hated myself the day one attempted to pronounce my local name. So, be who you are.
To a very great extent, the Fulbright FLTA programe was a very interesting and exposive one for me, making me see the very heart of the world. My Washington DC experience was particularly great, and one from which I cannot recover for the rest of my life. There we had the opportunity of meeting over 400 Foreign Language Teaching Assistants from over the world. We ate, chatted, danced and frolicked together. To me, meeting folks from Kenya, Tanzania, Brazil, Jordan, Algeria, Germany, Ethiopia, India, Spain etc was great and life-touching. Presenting my culture and serving the Fayetteville community in my own capacity are indeed very wonderful and memorable. Also unforgetable was our visits to Durham, Wilminton, Florida, Indiana, Hindsville, Georgia, Chapell Hill, Raleigh, Greenborouh and othr attractive and historical centres like U.S. Military Museum, 1941 War Ship Centre, North Carolina Historical Museum, among others.
All that my eyes saw in those places I visited really influenced my life and changed my perception of what we call life achievement. Here, we say one achieves when one has money, cars and big houses. No, one achieves when one thinks of developing the society and influencing people positively with your wealth. This is what the whites do and it is from here they judge who is great. Enough reason for their development. I even learn that Fulbright is the name of a rich American who invested his money to help scholars from all the world to advance research. He thought right. If it were to be a Nigerian, the money would be imprisoned somewhere. Let us think rightly. Let us develop our country. Let lootings and mismanagement of public treasury stop. Let all this madness for power stop. And with genuine love towards one another in our heart, move to a greater height.
As published in the Nigerian Tribune June 16, 2009
TO an average Nigerian, the thought of travelling abroad creates an erroneous and utterly blind impression of a journey to a land where money flows like a river and fortunes rise overnight. So pervasive is this illusion among Nigerians, in particular, that they not only see people who have gone to “european countries’ as swimming in the ocean of dollars or pounds sterling, but also do anything, however shameful, at the slightest, unlawful opportunity, to travel out of the country. The shocking realities of life for whoever has gone abroad, at least once, however, tells a different story.
I was fortunate to win a Fulbright scholarship alongside other eight lucky graduates of English and African languages from Nigeria to teach Yoruba culture and imbibe American culture for 2008/09. The intense vigour and stress that were to follow proved very unbearable for me: the frequent journeys to Lagos, writing examinations, shuttle between Jaja clinics and UCH for medical tests, among others. But all these were made insignificant by the mere thought of going to the United States of America.
When, like a dream, my appointment later came with a university in North Carolina as my host, and with the terms of appointment clearly spelt out, I knew I was not on a money-making mission , but as a cultural ambassador from Nigeria to the USA. With this settled in my heart, I began to prepare mentally for the possible challenges I was to face, especially as a teacher in an American University. I thought of the ‘white’ students, of the classroom, of standing in front of scholars and even of possibly meeting with the immediate past American President, George W. Bush. My thoughts went weird further to visualize the America that accommodates the likes of Chinua Achebe, as well as Abiola Irele and Biodun Jeyifo, both of Havard University; Niyi Osundare, Isidore Okpewho, among others. So high was my spirits that sleep eluded me few days to my departure.
The trip to the supposed “Jerusalem” began on August 11, 2008 at Murtala Mohammed Airport, where our flight took off en route London at midnight. Being in the aircraft for the first time was not a comfortable experience, but courage and faith in God sank whatever fear I had. My arrival in Heathrow marked the beginning of my bewilderment at the level of technological development and perfect orderliness with which the whites run their societies. During my five-hour stay at the airport, I began to compare the Murtala Mohammed Airport with Heathrow. I discovered, to my shock, that the harder I tried, the sadder I became at the unimaginable disparity. Little did I realize that what, in terms of development, I was to witness in my 10-month stay would put me in a state of unspeakable consternation at the way and manner our country is being run.
At Indiana, on my way to Notre Dame University where we were to be orientated, I was completely lost, admiring the streets, roads, buildings and orderliness in business and social activities. I could not, at this stage, stop asking myself if Nigeria, my fatherland endowed with very rich natural resources, was a cursed nation where things never worked. The orientation, for all the Fulbright scholars across the world took place and the experience, I must confess, transcended verbal description.
My arrival at Fayetteville, North Carolina, and what I went through in the first few weeks gave me a frightful realisation of the paradox of life. In my state of absolute stupefication, known and described in America as culture shock, I could not truly stop wondering why many Nigerians would like to pass through hell to travel to America. This may sound strange, but I later realised that ignorance of what life offers in these countries we are dying to travel to is a terrible omen for our people.
My first shock came from the manner in which Americans related with people, especially strangers. Coming from a country where visitors are treated with respect, warmth and utmost care, I expected waiting hands to receive us, cuddle and even possibly conduct us round the campus and town. Alas, I was living in a fool’s paradise. Immediately after we had been welcomed at the airport by some lecturers of the University who drove us straight to where we were to stay for ten months, we were abandoned to our destiny. I moved into my apartment and, for the first time in my life, I was so bored, frustrated and psychologically disturbed that I even wondered if I would not die of loneliness.
Somebody might ask why, since there were students on campus and even some Nigerians in the school. As a matter of fact, there were even more black students in my school than whites, but they were the worst people in terms of human relations. Thus, I had nobody to greet, visit or play with. All you received after greeting them with all enthusiasm and passion was ‘Hi’, and, in a twinkling of an eye, they had vanished. Being a very sociable fellow, I felt very depressed not talking to anyone. The other Fulbright Scholars in my apartment were muslims from Algeria and Bahrain, and a Chinese guy. They never came out of their rooms to say hello. In my desperation to be fully occupied, I turned to the internet but because I was not much used to it back in Nigeria, spending hours on the net gave me terrible feelings. At this stage, moreover, my body reaction to the weather was, on its own, very threatening.
It was in this state of mental torture and health dislocation due to weather changes that I was for eight weeks before I started meeting Nigerians who tried to keep me company, but could not solve the problem satisfactorily because it was all work round the clock, without anything to show for it.
As I was recovering from the psychological trauma, I came to another awful realisation — the fact that dollars did not roll on the streets of America after all. The society is arranged in such a way that you are not much wealthier than your neighbour. The more you earn, the more you spend on tax, rent and health. In fact, almost half of your earnings go into rent. This is so because in your house there are warmers and air conditioning facilities for weather fluctuations. It is in this kind of life that Nigerians in America find themselves. In fact, this simply explains why some of them find it very difficult to send money to their families home. To me, they are poor in every sense. But here in Nigeria, the painful assumption is that whoever is there is wealthier.
I must even confess that I initially fumed at the system in America. But after careful and very deep thinking, I realised that the system encourages America’s achievements in technology, science and politics while the Nigerian system, on the other hand, is responsible for our backwardness and societal decay.
To the average American, wealth is not the issue. It is getting a job, a car and a house to sleep in. That is all. The next thing to do is think of what will benefit the society. This explains why politicians like President Barack Obama went into politics. Their target is to invent and develop their country in any possible way. But in my country, our value system is money and wealth. If a person is not rich, building 10 houses, riding 10 cars and flaunting wealth ostentatiously, the society does not reckon with him. We hardly think of developing and structuring our society towards technological advance-ment.This is why we are 200 years behind the world.
At Durham University, you find our politicians’ sons and daughters living flamboyant lives. Is this how we are going to develop? We are talking of the Niger Delta crisis now and everybody is crying for the heads of the militants. But the painful truth is that these people are fighting for something, albeit the wrong way.
Take a look at the power sector. I was shocked to the marrow when, on my arrival, I slept, for the first time in 10 months, in total darkness. Why can’t we think? Why don’t we sleep and wake up thinking differently? Why are we so cursed by that aspect of our culture which values money more than anything else?
As a cultural ambassador, I was to teach Yoruba language and the entirety of our people’s culture. Doing this provided me with a very bright opportunity to teach and practically demonstrate our culture to university students, children of Cumberland County as well as the Fayetteville community at large. In fact, I did what I can call re-branding tantamount to the one being popularised by the Minister of Information, Prof. Dora Akunyili. I ensured I taught the history of Yoruba race, her progenitor, cradle, the proud warriors and their ever historic achievement. I even went to the extent of revealing our beautiful ways of dressing, our sonorous songs for different and special occasions some of which included Ijala, Orin Ode, Ewi, Rara and Apala. Most often, except when it was cold, I had the privilege of wearing Kembe, Agbada and other modes of Yoruba dresses.
In all the places we were invited for cultural talk, I re-branded by re-orientating the Americans about their wrong perceptions of Nigerians. You see, some Nigerians have done and are still doing the worst over there. Some impregnate girls and run away while some, in a bid to secure green cards, got involved in illegal marriages. Worst still, some forge documents just to live in America. All these come back to us in a very bad and shameful manner. The Americans see and hear them all. In fact, some students in my classes and during my presentations asked some terrible questions about Nigeria which are too shameful to discuss here. I had to re-project our image by debunking some of their ideas about us. So, while Akinyuli is not wrong in attempting to re-brand the nation, it is, to me, an exercise in futility if nothing is seriously done about stinking leadership and our financial value system which in every sense, is the bane of our development. We should, in fact, ask ourselves why Nigerians are dying to leave Nigeria. It is for no other reason than the wrong value system and harsh economic reality occasioned by kleptomaniac nature of our leaders.
This wrong value about money, which has infected the psyche of every Nigerian, most of our people out there don’t always mind committing crimes to realize big money in order to impress people here at home. They consider coming home very shameful without, for instance, pointing to a flashy car bought over there, or a gigantic building erected here while abroad, or bragging of a fat account in a bank. Yes, the problem is, our people here who think when you travel out, your fortunes must have greatly changed. When I returned, you can imagine our people telling me to buy a good car or plots of land and even bless some people with dollars. While I was even there, I received calls from my family members and some friends telling me to either run away or do something, however, illegal, to stay permanently there. I had to be firm in my decision, telling them I signed an agrement to come back home. You can now see where our value system is driving us. The whites don’t think this way. A house, a car and something to eat are simply enough for them. The next line of thought for them is to invent and develop the society.
As maintained earlier, I still cannot understand why the country, despite proliferation of churches, mosques, preachers and even prophets, is still witnessing lootings of treasury, wickedness, inhumanity to man among many other unspeakable vices and atrocities being committed. I logically think the more of these religious activities, the more should be loving, healthy and helpful attitudes towards one another. America by now, is far from being religious, yet love and passion to build the nation and individual exists there. Talk of a nation that is so morally deficient and spiritually backward as of today, it is America. Yet the country, in all spheres of life, keeps advancing. This is exactly what I thought of when I said initially that life is an enigma in which realities present themselves in a paradoxical manner.
As a Fulbrigh Scholar, I did my very best to project my culture in a very positive way. I taught my students the beauty in Yoruba culture. In fact, I tried to explain how sweet and proverbially rich the language is. Thanks to the internet. I was able to show them the cities of Lagos, Abeokuta, Ife and Abuja. I was equally lucky to come across Oriki Ile Yoruba by Babatunde Balogun in which he chanted historically about Ibadan , Egba, Ife, Ijebu, Eko among others. This really thrilled my student who were curious to know more about the culture.
Still in a bid to present what is laudable about my culture, I showed them some movies from Youtube. Movies like Oranmiyan, Oduduwa, Ori, Ifura really proved a point to them that we indeed, have a wonderful culture. This is while I appeal to movie producers to beware of the kind of message they project about our culture to the world.
I remember our Open Day on campus when lecturers would have the opportunity of presenting their courses to both the students of the school and the high school students willing to apply to the university. To attract students to register for courses in Yoruba, I had to dress in my Kembe and Dansiki with Abeti Aja, dancing and dramatically approaching the student as they passed my desk. Completely enthralled, many of them patiently waited to ask some questions and promised to register for the course. In fact, some of them gave me their numbers. You see, I sang our songs, danced personally to them and later explained the meaning to them. Other lecturers even came to watch me dance in the hall. I became the centre of attraction.
Another opportunity I had to be a true Nigerian ambassador was acting the role of Anansi the series of stage plays titled Anansi and Friends from all over the world. I played the key role which is Anansi, a lazy spider from Ghana. At the screening, I emerged the best actor, so I was asked to act the key role. The plays were presented to all school children in Fayetteville as well as the students and lecturers on campus. Lasting for three days, the presentations not only won me accolades, but also recognition in Fayetteville and among the students and lecturers in my school.
Thus till I left, I was called Anansi, the spider.
This takes me to my encouraging moment for parents who ignorantly delight in preventing their children from learning their mother tongues. They prefer their children to speak English alone. This is terribly bad. What they fail to understand is that they stop their children from showing their identity in future which might eventually be the source of livelihood for them. I could not have thought after obtaining a Master in English that I would teach Yoruba in a foreign land. Thanks to my upbringing that was deeply rooted in Yoruba culture, So, parents should encourage their children to combine knowledge of English with that of their languages. One should not affect the other. I am from Abeokuta, and up till now, I still proudly speak the Egba dialect. To some people, who point at their fathers’ house with left hands, speaking their dialects is embarrassing. All this come from a parochial mind. Be yourself and proud of your origin. The truth, however is you can’t speak like the white, however hard you try, and interestingly too, they cannot speak like you. They cannot pronounce your Yoruba or local name. I nearly hated myself the day one attempted to pronounce my local name. So, be who you are.
To a very great extent, the Fulbright FLTA programe was a very interesting and exposive one for me, making me see the very heart of the world. My Washington DC experience was particularly great, and one from which I cannot recover for the rest of my life. There we had the opportunity of meeting over 400 Foreign Language Teaching Assistants from over the world. We ate, chatted, danced and frolicked together. To me, meeting folks from Kenya, Tanzania, Brazil, Jordan, Algeria, Germany, Ethiopia, India, Spain etc was great and life-touching. Presenting my culture and serving the Fayetteville community in my own capacity are indeed very wonderful and memorable. Also unforgetable was our visits to Durham, Wilminton, Florida, Indiana, Hindsville, Georgia, Chapell Hill, Raleigh, Greenborouh and othr attractive and historical centres like U.S. Military Museum, 1941 War Ship Centre, North Carolina Historical Museum, among others.
All that my eyes saw in those places I visited really influenced my life and changed my perception of what we call life achievement. Here, we say one achieves when one has money, cars and big houses. No, one achieves when one thinks of developing the society and influencing people positively with your wealth. This is what the whites do and it is from here they judge who is great. Enough reason for their development. I even learn that Fulbright is the name of a rich American who invested his money to help scholars from all the world to advance research. He thought right. If it were to be a Nigerian, the money would be imprisoned somewhere. Let us think rightly. Let us develop our country. Let lootings and mismanagement of public treasury stop. Let all this madness for power stop. And with genuine love towards one another in our heart, move to a greater height.
As published in the Nigerian Tribune June 16, 2009
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