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 Just about last week here, I wanted us all to assume a deeper soliloquy on the secondary meaning behind the selection of Reno Omokri as ambassador desig­nate. Many people who react­ed to the election of Mr. Reno Omokri ordinarily reacted based on their false understand­ing of who really an ambassador is. According to these people, an ambassador is a polished indi­vidual clad in a three-piece suit, urbane and debonair and speak­ing the English of the King or one who has a cockney for an ac­cent of the English of the King. I thought otherwise, and tried to say that an ambassador pre­sides over a coterie of spies, to ferret whatever info that can be used as bargaining chips in the day-to-day battle of wits within the diplomatic community. And I said that judging from his an­tecedents, Mr. Reno Omokri was the squarest of square pegs for that ambassadorial pick. I did not say though in that article, last week, that I had gotten wind of this kind of thinking from a reading of E.H. Cookridge’s Spy Trade, a book written in the early 70s, that period of the Cold War.

Therefore, to give reader-reac­tion some say, I began by saying that part of the lessons I learnt as a pupil and cub journalist with TELL Magazine, and under very senior and accomplished jour­nalists, that reactions are a good barometer for checking whether you had scored a bullseye with discussing a subject of national import. Most of the time, it is the quality of the response rather than the quantity thereof that matters. I remember at some point when a strong delegation of the Lagos state government ‘stormed’ the TELL newsroom over a cheeky photo that I took to garnish one of my reports. Whilst the delegation demanded they must see who this cheeky reporter was, my editors (God Bless those doughty, battle-ready men), insisted that they cannot see me, as I had gone out for an­other assignment (but I was the one sitting right there next to the sternest looking member of the delegation).

Among those reactions was that from Prof. Tony Afejuku, my esteemed prose fiction lec­turer and project supervisor in UNIBEN about 30 years ago. As an undergrad, Dr. Afejuku (as he then was) seemed to have taken some interest in my sojourn through UNIBEN – often quick to guide and mentor, he would not suffer fools gladly. Most of us Afejuku Brought Up (ABU) adopted his mantra – no paddy for jungle – a quip that seemed to establish his world view about dedication, the value of consis­tency, and the boldness to take on circumstances with the equa­nimity of a stone.

Just after we graduated, I re­member he picked us four of his ABUs to his office and asked: what do you want to accomplish out there? All four of us mum­bled here and there that we were interested in making it big in business, work to redress the im­perfections prevalent in the Nige­rian establishment and etcetera. None of us said we would teach, and prepare the next generation just as he had tried to prepare us. If you knew Prof, you would know he was not one to pamper and oil you with a different robe from the one you wore. He shot straight at us, and even though my memory has dumped me with an attempt at recollection of his exact words, I knew there and there that I would work hard at making a success at the enter­prise of life. I will tell you what he said to me about Reno Omokri next week.