“Writers write, because, they are almost always right”
By Amarachi Jessica Idika Orji.
ON BEHALF OF ME.
Pristine fragments of my craft…
“Unfortunately, your request did not meet up with…..”
“It’s okay, Sir. I get it…I totally understand” “I cut in.” Meticulously stashing my documents, which were never even demanded for, back into the folder.
“I’m sorry…” the middle aged, male, Caucasian US Embassy visa officer continued.
“Don’t bother. Can I have the book back, please?” “I continued.” Stretching out my right hand for, The Black Saint, my first published book.
Here’s how it all started. When I approached his booth, he caught sight of my book. I offered him to have a look. He obliged, and curiously flipped through the pages. While I’m not a clairvoyant, I deduced by the glint in his eyes, as he took more than a cursory look at the graphic design of the cover page, as well as a brief scan of the preface, that he couldn’t have been less than enthralled.
You see, this particular US visa officer, in the Abuja consulate, Nigeria, West Africa, was strikingly pleasant. Not that I’ve met any particularly unpleasant one in my previous two attempts, anyway. The Abuja officer, for a moment, gave me a look that got me thinking, if he wondered why I got the serial dismissal, or better still, back to back visa denials, which spanned in one month, one week and two days. Yet, in less than three minutes, my fate had already been dutifully signed, sealed and delivered, not in one bit, a different verdict, from that of his contemporaries in the Lagos office. The only negligible difference was the slight shades of their respective lavender denial letters. The Abuja’s, was a shade lighter than the Lagos’ but still the same write up. To me, the most significant thing about the entire visa interview episodes, I guess, would be the intriguing uniformity of the visa officers’, both in Lagos and Abuja, Modus Operandi. The synchrony in their visa denial sequence was apt. Suffice it to say, that it was an epic display of borderline ingenuity!
In any case, I was somewhat cocksure that there could be, perhaps, a mind-boggling concern, shrouded in ambiguity, on their part, over my application form. I had to struggle to shrug off the thought of any assumed possible conspiracy, regardless. Maybe, a personal flaw, a misrepresentation or even a typo, evident in my application form, stuck out like a sore thumb, and won’t let these prim, proper and amiable, ladies and gentlemen of the US Embassy in Nigeria look from my shortfalls, whatever it is, to my sincerity of purpose. Some of us, well, me, in representation of myself, never got to have my disgruntlement addressed. Rather, a nauseating state of cluelessness, one of the fall outs of the three frazzling visa denial sessions I went through, might remain my struggle, I guess, for a little longer than required.
The 45mins flight from the US embassy, Abuja, back to Lagos, was literally, the longest. Not sure I even remembered who, male or female, my seat neighbour was on that flight. I was that oblivious. Although, under normal circumstances, I’m not particularly warm to strangers on any flight, local or international, I’m a bit conservative. I don’t loath strangers either but you are not likely to catch me in a tittle tattle, in any form, on a flight. I like to think that, being on a flight, is akin to solicited restrictions. If I’m going to be in that restricted-spaced state, for between forty-five minutes to twenty hours depending on where the flight is bound, I might as well savour that state of solitude with unapologetic self-centeredness. So, while someone else would think that a little chatty moment could ease off the boredom, that long flights are riddled with, I’ll rather stick to being pro introspection. Well, I guess to each, their own.
Buried in my thoughts? Yes. Sad that I was denied a student’s visa again, the 3rd time? Not quite. One illogical story flew into my ear on the queue at the embassy along these lines: That perhaps the reason my student visa approval had remained a mirage was because I was unmarried, and that the officers might have had a harrowing time convincing themselves that I would return to Nigeria upon completion of my studies. Well, I quickly had to swap the urge to be upset at such ridiculous suggestion with the need to be rational. If for any reason the suggestion my fellow applicant made at the embassy that fateful morning had any merit, then their concerns (The US visa officers) just might be justified. But, I would have suggested a proviso, in which case, they devise a watertight mode of investigation. That would go a long way to help ascertain the authenticity and credibility of every document and oral claim of applicants.
And just to set the records straight, for me, there’s no place like home. Nigeria is a rapidly developing country, and part of the reason is because a few selfless and patriotic ones among us, who could afford the best education in any part of the globe, came right back to the country after their studies to plunge their wealth of quality knowledge into fostering her growth and development. Names that readily come to mind are, Dr Ngozi-Iweala, Nigerian former minister of Finance, an alumnus of Harvard University, Massachusetts Institute of Technology; Late Professor Dora Akunyili, who obtained her first degree in pharmacology from The University of Nigeria, Nsukka, a Post Doctorate Fellow of University of London, among several other qualifications and served as the Director General of National Agency for Food and Drug Administration and Control, and later the Minister of Information and Communication; Chief Michael Adenuga, an alumnus of North-Western University, Oklahoma and Pace University, New York, both in The United States of America, is the Chairman, Chief Executive Officer of Globacom Limited, a Nigerian multinational telecommunications company with over 2,500 employees. The list is endless. I don’t know how anyone would successfully want to tell the Nigerian story, with profound clarity and absolute accuracy, without mentioning these achievers, some still living, who contributed immensely to ensure that Nigeria as a nation and Nigerians, as a people, attain a modicum of relevance on the global scene. It makes no economic sense to pay through one’s nose to get adequate foreign training, and fail to put it into constructive use. Some of the developed countries around the world are what and where they are today because of the prices their compatriots paid decades back. It would be fulfilling, for posterity sake, to pay today’s price that would be of tremendous benefits to generations to come. So, on that flight, from Abuja back to Lagos, I was gravely worried at how great a price I needed to pay to add value and price to my career. And the thought of how elusive this important career feat is threatening to be, landed me in another level of sobriety.
Undoubtedly, there’s a paradigm shift in the career prospects in my country, Nigeria. I don’t know of anywhere else. There’s a stiff but healthy competition, especially, in the Media and Communication sector. Simply put, mediocrity had been phased out. For no particular fault of anyone, just the sheer fact, that technological evolution is moving at such incredible speed, such that the sane logic at anyone’s disposal would be to learn to swim against the tide. I like to think that at this point of 21st century technological advancement, “napping” might not be the best idea. In this Social Media era, any “out of touch” slip could spell doom to one’s career. The safest bet would be, to not take for granted any opportunity found, to embellish one’s personality. So, what exactly am I on about? I’m just trying to demonstrate, with as much clarity as possible, the unequivocal importance of adding value or price to one’s career and personal advancements. In view of the above assertions, one’s career skyline in Nigeria, more often than not, is usually premised on how much information at your disposal, and how well the quality of the information would impact, and of course, how relevant, would the impact of the information you have be for the Organisation’s swift growth acceleration. If you put the above illustration into further perspective, it would be easier to understand why people like me should consider ourselves fortunate that we are not only ambitious, but also know well enough to push our boundaries, in pursuit of the right kind of knowledge. Not even because the wherewithal is assessable, on the contrary, having all the monies in the world, might still set you back in some vital areas, if you have a haphazard prioritizing ability. Learning to give attention to the fundamentals. In other words, stretching your little fund to cover the essentials. And if that is properly and intelligently done, it could afford you, sort of, parallel benefits. The pursuance of career punditry, I guess, doesn’t feel like a stroll in the park, if it was, the word, “pursuance”, would have no business being mentioned in this narrative. More so, whatever is being pursued, in the first place, maybe as far back as the earliest stage of biodiversity, couldn’t have been an easy grab. Come to think of it, pundits, are few and far between!
After factoring in the dynamics of adding value to your career and price to your personal advancement, without necessarily breaking the bank, the track record of wherever your ideal fountain of knowledge is, becomes paramount.
At any given time of the day, the ideal country that comes to mind, in offering me exactly the kind of value-adding education that would appropriately fit my career advancement projection size, is always, The United States of America. Apart from the stability in their economy, to the best of my knowledge anyway, their Educational standard is second to none, at the moment. If you know me, you could tell that, I’m circumspect, when it comes to making some bogus declaration. I resent being quoted out of context, but if I must be quoted, then it must be quoted right, that’s whom I happen to be. Without further digressions, my closest pals at work acquired for themselves a handful of astonishing swift promotions at work. What sickening coincidence, would get two ladies, such jet-speed promotions, shortly after completing a seven-month certificate program in the US? Some of us threw endless tantrums. Some didn’t even have the civility to mask their dissatisfaction. But people like me, evolved from discontentment to maybe restlessness, but we try to finally land, at being a bit logical, especially, with issues of interests. First off, I became close to them because it was obvious, they had adopted a more, “out of the box” approach to issues in the office, and in life issues, as a whole. They simply picked up a lot more knowledge than the rest of us. It made no logical or economic sense that someone puts aside, over 30,000 US dollars in a career-harnessing academic pursuit, only for the rest of us to still expect that the width of their horizon would still be at par with us, that’s tantamount to self-sabotage.
Moving on, there are quite a number of things, in my interestingly boring life, that appeal only to the few people, whose cognitive prowess are vast enough to appreciate the simple complexities, that my harmless life had metamorphosed into over the past few decades. I’m always the first to admit the complex simplicities, this life of mine is made up of. Criticism, won’t necessarily damage the niche that I’m meticulously nurturing for myself. Howbeit, constructive criticism is not out of place really, so long as the motive won’t come across as cryptic, prurient or abysmal. One of my lecturers, in School of Media and Communication, Pan-Atlantic University, Professor Tsaaior, once said, that you could tell someone to go to hell, and they gladly head on at the path, but it would depend on how well such inventive was garnished. More like, being diplomatic, in paraphrase.
At any point I take a decision to go on the introspective route, I make sure to be as explicit as the need for safety demands. In the end, you are either convinced it was a full disclosure, a declassified piece, or both. That would ring a bell, hopefully.
The process of trying to figure what ways to weave my stories in, had always been one clumsy dilemma. There has to be an order, with resonant effect, in reeling out the interesting activities that had characterized my life, my vision and the truth I believe in. That said, it’s a no brainer that I’m inclined to starting off with the most poignant. Which was why, “my 2015, US visa interview,” gist, opened up the first liners of this narrative. Also, because I’m bound by a self-induced code of disclosure, this non- fictitious abridged essay, boasts of 100% confirmable originality, and relatable demography. No guarantees, however, of profound minute to minute details. Accuracy is intact though, but couched in unambiguous fragments.
My confidence in my intellectual and creative capacity went a notch higher,(pardon my immodesty), when I got a mail in August 2015, that I have been selected to represent Nigeria, out of about 340 other applicants, in African Women Writers ’ writing for change’ Conference. The writing Workshop was organized by AWDF, African Women Development Fund. I was blown away upon receiving the amazing piece of News, not quite because I had no confidence in my creativity, but because it was simply flattering to have been chosen, out of 339 other smart and amazing writers that Nigeria has been blessed with, to represent her, in an international competition. Suffice it to say, that the 10 days spent in Kampala, Uganda, East Africa, with over 17 amazingly brilliant women writers, cut across the continent and beyond, were priceless. My favourite part of the Conference, was the arrival of the New York based Moth team, comprised of 3 amazing individuals, Catherine, Dawn and Susan. True-life storytelling documentation, organization, The Moth, added brilliance to the conference, yours truly, I was beyond fascinated.
Every waking day of my life, I smile heartily on seeing The Certificate of Excellence, given to me at the conference, conspicuously adorning my bedside cupboard. It is note-worthy, that shortly before the Uganda Writers Conference, I was one of the Nigerian delegates in a 4 day Grant makers Conference, held in Arusha, Tanzania. I was privileged to see and take pictures with my childhood favourite singer, that I literally hero-worshiped, Yvonne Chaka Chaka, from South Africa, (picture insertion). I also got interviewed by a BBC reporter, Mrs Bola. It was an intense 5 minutes of, no holds barred details, about my first published book, The Black Saint, my being chosen to represent Nigeria, in the, then forthcoming Writers Conference, my passion about girl-child education, and other sundry issues. Now, I think it’s safe to say that I was on a row. Being interviewed by a BBC reporter had to be huge, I’m not even about being calm over it, trust me. I’m still basking in that euphoria, yes I am, and I should, because those were my priceless, craft recognition moments. The memories will linger, and hopefully, outlive me. One of my friends would say, “Why won’t I blow my trumpet? If the trumpet is mine, then no one can possibly blow it better”. And here’s my own version of her (im) modest assertion, “I may not be the best, but my question is, who is better?” That should be a tie. Well, that’s a story for another day.
I’ve had my fair share of rock bottom situations. Most of which were so intense, that I lapsed into several phases of dysphoria. But it’s important, one doesn’t get so delusional about life. We merely do the right things, sometimes, the right things from our grey perspective. I like to think that one won’t necessarily need the luck of the Irish to pull through, if one, tactfully assemble the right mix of, Working hard, praying, working even harder, then staying the course. And if there’s still a brick wall, like it’s wont to be sometimes? Reshuffle the sequence, pray, persevere, stay at it. Wait! This is not prescriptive on my own part, just a gentle recommendation. Not because it has undergone series of guinea pig test in my imaginary laboratory, but because just like anyone else, I’m a, work-in-progress. It’s advisable to take into cognisance, the fact that, between the projection period and the anticipation time, there’s a time lapse. What happens in between, is paramount and would account for a lot of other things, that’s where sanity comes in.
Out of my magnanimity, I usually leave a caveat in my essays. So, here’s a quick fact sheet:
1). I’ve had childhood snakes, in a figurative sense, for friends. Most of whom, I shared parallel interests with. So, I’ve learnt that when people call you their friend, be sure they are not speaking, tongue in cheek.
2). I hate rats…I’m so repulsed by the sight of it, that I get a whiff of its presence, once I step into a house. Sometimes, the mere imagination of the possible presence of one, keeps me awake through the night. I prefer roaches instead.
3). my strength lies in my solitude, but my weakness, sometimes, is determined by seeing multitude.
4). I have a problem with the biblical account of the Tower of Babel. If God truly cast language barriers among the builders, because he (God), was afraid they could build up to heaven, where he is domiciled. When shall those wizards, with amazing ingenuity in building and construction, be replicated in our present generation? Considering the fact that being over 35,000 feet above sea levels, on flights, have not been proven to have gotten anyone, halfway close to heaven? Astronauts are yet to confirm that either. I’m just wondering how those biblical tower of babel builders, with blocks and rods, built close enough to heaven…eliciting such pandemonium. I feel there’s some discrepancy in that story.
5). the theory of evolution does not make any sense to me…there’s definitely a superior being, at the helm.
6). until I turned 13 plus, I didn’t stop bedwetting. The harassment of wearing a napkin in the evenings, till age10, because you i plagued with an unconventional bedwetting habit that defied every orthodox and unorthodox cure, would be one misfortune I’ll never wish on an enemy.
7). I stumbled on the reality, as I grew up, that, most of the things, I thought were good to me as a child, turned out not being good for me. As an adult, it’s advisable to always pick and choose, wisely.
Orji Idika J, Amarachi, is a proud Nigerian. Who dabbles into writing anything of interest, from autobiographical essays to socio-political observation. Had published her first book. She has a B A, in History and International studies, from The University of Nigeria, Nsukka. Enugu State, Nigeria. And her second degree in, Multimedia Journalism, from, Pan-Atlantic University, a k a, Lagos Business School, Lagos, Nigeria.
Amarachi has set a terrifying and almost impossible target for herself, she admits that the targets are daunting. She however is still enthusiastic to even surpass the boundaries.
