Recently, during a flight from Amsterdam to Lagos, Nigeria, I had the pleasure of traveling with a long-time acquaintance of mine from Canada, whom I’ve known for about 15 years. He’s a gentleman of exceptional integrity, highly sought after by foreign governments and multinational corporations worldwide, yet his heart has always remained devoted to Nigeria. Despite spending many years abroad, his love for Nigeria has never wavered.
After exchanging pleasantries, I inquired, “Heading home to see family?”
“Not exactly,” he replied. “I’m taking on a new appointment and might be there for a short while, a few years, or perhaps indefinitely, depending on circumstances.”
“Wow! Whichever sector you’re joining, they’re fortunate to have you,” I remarked. He smiled and responded, “My friend, we’ve discussed this before. Serving our nation in any capacity, especially in a country with over 200 million people, is a true honor.”
“Absolutely, my dear brother. Ah, a government job! I didn’t know you had connections at the top,” I teased.
“Connections? I tried in the past, but I faced resistance. In fact, a close friend who had the power to help turned his back on me. Despite knowing my intentions were to contribute to the country’s progress, he changed after assuming his position. He became arrogant and distant, surrounding himself with new associates of similar status. He stopped communication with many of his childhood friends whom he felt were of lesser status, including those who had provided for him in his times of need,” he explained.
“Perhaps he felt pressured by their demands,” I suggested.
“Possibly by a couple, but others meant well for him and never asked him for any assistance. It was disappointing to see him change so drastically. Ironically, he’s now been let go, the emergency friends are mostly gone, and he is trying to reconnect with his old friends. Some forgave him, while others have moved on,” he reflected.
“Interesting,” I murmured.
“But what truly surprised me was another friend, let’s call him B. We hadn’t spoken in months, and I had not discussed my interest with him in years, yet he reached out with an incredible opportunity. He informed me that he was present at a meeting where executive vacancies were being discussed, and he informed those present that I would be a good fit for either of the positions, recommending me based on my competence, not just our friendship,” he recounted.
“A rare gesture indeed,” I acknowledged.
“It was deeply touching. To be remembered overseas when he had many in Nigeria he could have called, was unexpected and heart-warming. There are friends, and then there are friends like B. You will know who a true friend is by the way he or she treats you when in a position of authority,” he said emotionally.
“Wow, that’s quite moving. Best of luck with everything, my brother. Make us proud,” I encouraged him.
“I will, for my family, friends, especially friend B, and our nation. While we can’t transform everything overnight, each of us can contribute diligently, professionally, and patriotically,” he affirmed.
“Safe travels, bro,” I said as we parted ways.
NB: Johnson Babalola, a Canada-based lawyer, leadership consultant and corporate emcee, is a public affairs analyst.
