Showing posts with label Igbo Diaspora. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Igbo Diaspora. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 30, 2022

WNBA Star, NBA Analyst Chiney Ogwumike On Tireless Quest To Have It All

Chiney Ogwumike's trade from Connecticut to Los Angeles has allowed her to contribute more frequently to ESPN’s NBA coverage from the network’s L.A. studio. (Will Navarro for The Washington Post)

BY BEN GOLLIVER

LOS ANGELES (WASHINGTON POST)
— The elevator ride to Chiney Ogwumike’s Century City penthouse began in silence and ended with the steady thump of Afrobeats.

It was a random Tuesday afternoon, but Ogwumike was moving and talking faster than the music, whirling around a condominium that is a monument to multitasking. In a downstairs gym, Ogwumike has prepared for her upcoming season with the WNBA’s Los Angeles Sparks. Upstairs, the baller-slash-broadcaster has arranged her office around a tidy bookshelf that serves as a backdrop for remote television appearances.

Her phone was always nearby and rarely dormant, and she mumbled verdicts on a stream of incoming requests without losing her train of thought. Ogwumike stepped onto her deck to enjoy the sunshine, but only for a moment. There was too much to discuss about her dual careers, not to mention her secret dream of chronicling the Hollywood dating scene.

“People think when you’re on TV that all these guys are going to be talking to you,” she said. “I go on TV, tell people what I want them to know and come home to eat Chipotle and watch my shows. I love African music — Burna Boy, Wizkid, Fireboy — so I go to small functions, but you won’t see me out here turning up. Dating in L.A. is traumatic. Dating in L.A. is comedy. I wish I could do an anonymous podcast about dating in L.A.”

For the next two hours, Ogwumike held court from her couch, shifting effortlessly and inexhaustibly through an array of more serious topics: her painful rehabilitations from two major surgeries; her exhausting rise to become an NBA analyst for ESPN; the petroleum industry; gender inequities in sports; sexism in broadcasting; the Ukrainian refugee crisis; and social media criticism.

With a gleaming smile and active hands, she noted twice that her brain never turns off and chalked it up to her full legal name: Chinenye Joy Ogwumike. Her first name means “God gives” in the Igbo language. The joy is self-evident. Her last name translates to “Tireless.” Together, it’s as fitting as a name gets.

Ogwumike, who turned 30 on March 21, is in contract years with both the Sparks and ESPN. Between the age milestone and the career crossroads, she was in an introspective mood, and had listened intently to Supreme Court nominee Ketanji Brown Jackson’s Senate confirmation hearings. Jackson recalled feelings of homesickness and doubt as a Harvard undergraduate, and told a story about a sidewalk encounter with “a Black woman I didn’t know,” who apparently sensed Jackson’s uneasiness and provided a single word of advice: “persevere.”

The anecdote reminded Ogwumike of her own freshman year at Stanford, when she felt like an outsider and couldn’t bring herself to participate in class discussions, even though she was a star recruit and a straight-A high school student.

In stepped Condoleezza Rice, who joined the Stanford faculty after serving as George W. Bush’s secretary of state. Summoning Ogwumike for a heart-to-heart conversation, Rice insisted that the teenager speak up and informed her that she would be requesting regular progress reports from her professors.

“Dr. Rice let me know that you can go as hard in the classroom as you go on the court,” Ogwumike said. “You don’t have to sacrifice academics to be great at basketball. A switch flipped in my head and it changed my perspective on everything. That experience made me think maybe I could be a broadcaster or an entrepreneur. I can do both at the same time.”

Evading quicksand

Peter and Ifeyinwa “Ify” Ogwumike were born in Nigeria and raised by well-to-do families before immigrating to the United States as teenagers to study at Weber State and settling just outside Houston. They expected perfect test scores and community involvement from their four daughters: Nneka, Chiney, Erica and Olivia. All four went on to play college basketball, and the sport was a driving force for the family.

But Ogwumike, a 6-foot-3 forward who won two state championships at Cy-Fair High School, was also active in student government and a civil rights club in high school. Even as a young child, she enjoyed watching CNN’s global news and eavesdropping on her parents’ conversations about African politics.

While at Stanford, Ogwumike majored in international relations and studied abroad in her parents’ home country, where she saw both ends of the economic spectrum. One day, she was job-shadowing officials at the Ministry of Petroleum. The next, she was attending Access2Success basketball camps, where hundreds of children, many of whom lacked shoes and proper athletic attire, squeezed onto two outdoor courts. She returned to Palo Alto with a newfound gratitude, and graduated as the Pac-12 conference’s all-time leading scorer.

Two years after Nneka was the No. 1 pick in the 2012 WNBA draft, Ogwumike was selected first overall by the Connecticut Sun and appeared poised for a dominant professional career. Unfortunately, injuries intervened. While Nneka led the Sparks to the 2016 title and was named league MVP, Ogwumike endured nagging knee pain and underwent microfracture surgery in 2015.

Ogwumike went home to Texas to recover, shielding her disappointment from the outside world. Laid up on a couch in her parents’ bedroom, she refused prescription pain medication after her first Vicodin pill made her nauseous.

“Negativity is like quicksand,” Ogwumike said. “Going from being a superhero athletically to not being able to move or walk or take care of yourself completely was a foreign experience. I purposefully chose for people not to see that side.”

Once healthy, Ogwumike returned to play for the Sun and competed overseas in China. While playing for the Henan Phoenix in 2016, she tore her Achilles’ tendon. To get back to the United States for surgery, Ogwumike embarked on a 72-hour journey that included a train ride across the Hunan province, two lengthy flights and wheelchair rides through multiple airports.

“Technically, this is going to be her ninth season, but she’s only played in like five,” Nneka said. “Her personal challenges have to do with injuries and she handles it with such grace.”

Ogwumike spent her second rehabilitation watching ESPN’s morning debate shows, seeking a connection to the sports world. She remained confident that she could still compete in the WNBA but decided that playing year-round was no longer an option, leading her to consider joining the media.

“The Achilles’ injury was really the first time that she had time to think,” said Allison Galer of Disrupt The Game, Ogwumike’s longtime agent. “We spent a lot of time brainstorming and strategizing. Where are we going and how are we going to get there?”

Starting over

Despite her elite basketball pedigree, Ogwumike was an unproven 25-year old broadcasting rookie. She had dabbled with a few ESPN appearances since joining the Sun, but pitching herself to media executives as an on-air talent during her playing career was more complicated. She prioritized opportunity over compensation by channeling Shonda Rimes’ “Year of Yes” philosophy.

Want to interview college mascots? Yes. Want to analyze Pac-12 games in the studio? Yes. Want to anchor SportsCenter Africa? Yes. Ogwumike, who is now a regular on ESPN’s “NBA Today” show, knew she needed to raise her profile because she wasn’t a household name like Lisa Leslie or Candace Parker.

“People are like, ‘Why is she on TV so much?’” Ogwumike said. “I’m not the MVP or a champion. My story is different. I know what it’s like to be looked past and judged. When you’re a Hall of Famer, you’ve always got a spot. They need you. I don’t have that luxury. I have to fight for my spot.”

Before long, she had constructed a frenzied day-to-day existence in Uncasville, Conn., where the Sun play. Three or four times a week, she would wake up at 4:30 a.m. and drive an hour to ESPN’s headquarters in Bristol, arriving early enough to attend production meetings and get her hair and makeup done before her first SportsCenter hit at 7 a.m. Her appearances would continue throughout the day, and she would sneak in a quick cafeteria lunch when possible.

Ogwumike would head out by 4:30 p.m. to work out, make the hour-long drive home and tune into the first set of NBA games at 7 p.m. When the games were done after midnight, she would log plays and send notes to her producers for use on the next day’s shows.

“These are things people do to follow their dreams,” Nneka said. “I don’t know how she does it, and it couldn’t be me.”

Meanwhile, at her night job, Ogwumike averaged 14.4 points and 7.3 rebounds for the Sun, earning her second all-star nod in 2018. Yet she felt stuck in an endless loop, apart from her family, living in team housing and driving a team-owned Hummer.

“I was a single woman in Connecticut by myself with no friends, really,” she said. “My lifestyle wasn’t sustainable at all.”

As her ESPN responsibilities increased, Ogwumike experienced a heavy dose of impostor syndrome, much like when she was a Stanford freshman. Former Houston Rockets star Tracy McGrady, her childhood idol, was now sitting next to her on set, and she felt added pressure following the departures of several high-profile female hosts. Network executives took note of her diligence and professionalism, but some colleagues struggled to pronounce her name and viewers nitpicked her appearance.

“A woman with a microphone can’t mess up, and you get the magnifying glass for your mistakes,” she said. “I would go from practice straight to on-air, filling in for someone who dropped out and doesn’t care about this job. I’m so excited to hustle and prove that my perspective matters, and all society wants to talk about is that I didn’t look good. I’m used to the smoke. Someone that tweets me hate isn’t comfortable with a Black woman on your screen. Alright, next.”

The Twitter critics were one thing, but Ogwumike was hard on herself, too. Worn down by her hectic schedule but feeling too guilty to take a real vacation, she coped by hibernating at home with Netflix. To ease her mind before appearances, Ogwumike, a Catholic, began reciting the Serenity Prayer and the Angel of God Prayer. Eventually, she settled in and trusted that she would hold her spot through preparation and persistence.

“There are quicker ways to [get attention],” Ogwumike said. “Some people hot-take it, but we’re not afforded that luxury as women. Even if I wanted to, are we comfortable with women yelling?”

Rounding out

A 2019 trade from the Sun to the Sparks reunited Ogwumike with her sister, Nneka, and enabled her to contribute more frequently to ESPN’s NBA coverage from the network’s L.A. studio. The cross-country move also prompted an unsparing self-assessment.

“I’ve never had a personal life,” she realized. “In high school, I was focused on my grades and being the No. 1 player. At Stanford, I needed to be the best player in the country and get this degree. In the pros, I had to prove that I was good because my sister is hooping. When’s my life happening?”

Ogwumike now has a checklist for her next 10 years: marriage, children and launching a media business that will combat systemic inequality through narrative storytelling. Her off-court causes have piled up: In addition to serving as a vice president for the WNBA’s players union, she has spearheaded voting rights initiatives, campaigned for more equitable treatment for women collegiate athletes and launched a fundraiser for African students fleeing the war in Ukraine.

“I wouldn’t be surprised one day if Chiney is a U.S. Senator or President of the United States,” said Dave Roberts, ESPN’s head of NBA and studio production. “She’s one of the most brilliant people I’ve ever worked with in this industry.”

A potential political future will need to wait. After playing just seven games over the past two seasons, Ogwumike has trained for the upcoming season with 5 a.m. workouts and regular sessions with a basketball coach, osteopath, track coach and trainer. Retirement would have its benefits — less physical toll on her body, more time for everything else — but she isn’t ready.

“I want to prove that I can still play,” she said. “I know I still have gas in the tank.”

Something will have to give. The WNBA season begins in May, leaving Ogwumike unsure about her availability to cover the NBA Finals in June. Sparks Coach Derek Fisher said that he was “optimistic” that Ogwumike “will report to camp healthy and contribute to our on-court success,” adding that the team has “always supported our athletes pursuing careers” outside the WNBA. Roberts said that ESPN’s leaders will be “flexible and nimble” to make the juggling act work.

As Ogwumike ramps up for another basketball comeback and builds her broadcasting reputation, she recited one of her mother’s favorite sayings: small drops of water make a mighty ocean.

“You’re told that you have to give your all to one thing to be great,” Ogwumike said. “That’s not how the world works right now. We have one nationally-televised game as the Sparks. I’m fortunate to be on TV three or four times a week. There are young girls that want a voice and an opportunity, and that visibility goes so far.”

A lot of good can happen, then, if she just keeps talking.

Thursday, December 30, 2021

One Of Calgary's Top Lawyers Charles Osuji Recipient Of Prestigious Awards In 2021

PRESS RELEASE
Charles Osuji. Image courtesy of Charles Osuji


CALGARY, AB, DECEMBER 30, 2021 (24-7 PRESS RELEASE) — Osuji’s acclaim began in 2016 when he was nominated as the 2016 Professional of the Year by Obsidian, Alberta. The next year, he was rated one of the Top 3 Employment Lawyers in Calgary, Alberta for 2017 – an award he’s won every year since then.

2021 Awards & Recognition for Charles Osuji

This winning trend continues today. In 2021, Osuji added many awards and recognitions to his already lengthy list of accomplishments, including being named “one of the best lawyers in Canada.”

Lexpert Rising Star: 2021 Leading Lawyers Under 40, Canada

Every year, Lexpert selects lawyers who are “at the top of their professional game while still dedicated to giving back.” This year, Lexpert named Charles Osuji a 2021 Rising Star in Canada’s Leading Lawyers Under 40 category.

Osuji has risen in the Canadian legal community “fast and furiously” while maintaining his humility, kindness, and generosity with his time and professional talent. “His unique combination of high intellect, tireless work ethic and business acumen fuels this rising star, but Osuji remains grounded by his role as a model citizen for all young professionals.”

Best Lawyers: Ones to Watch in Canada, 2022

Charles Osuji was recognized and chosen by peer review as a Best Lawyers: Ones to Watch in Canada, 2022, for his outstanding professional excellence in private practice. For Osuji, this award is “yet another confirmation that there’s a place for you at the table if you consistently put in the work and keep a good name while surrounded by a tribe of supporters…There are no limits!”

2021 Avenue Calgary Top 40 Under 40

Avenue Calgary recognized Osuji as a Top 40 Under 40 this year for his ability to “champion diversity at his law firm and mentor other immigrants to succeed in business. Osuji says, “Excellence in diversity – that’s the story I want to tell.” And he tells it well by inspiring, hiring, and mentoring locally and internationally trained lawyers from a range of cultural heritages.

2021 Power of Inclusion Community Award

The Council of Nigerian Professionals, an organization that empowers people to enrich our community with a focus on Canada’s socio-economic and political needs, recognized Osuji’s contributions to the community with the Power of Inclusion Community Award.

The Power of Inclusion Award is given to “individuals, leaders and community members working tirelessly within their sphere of influence to be inclusive of others irrespective of culture, creed, beliefs, social class, sexual orientation and more.”

2021 Top 25 DEI Persons of the Year Award

The Canadian Multicultural Group named Charles Osuji one of the Top 25 DEI Persons of the Year in 2021. The Group recognized Osuji’s unique approach to law and leadership, and highlighted the prominence of diversity in his practice.

Evidence of this diversity is in the multilingual staff at Osuji & Smith, who speak English, Igbo, Bengali, Edo, Spanish, Arabic, Japanese, Korean, Arabic, French, Hindi, Punjabi, Gujarati, Marathi, and Urdu.

Top 3 Lawyers in Calgary, Alberta

Besides all this national recognition, Osuji was recognized as one of the Top 3 Employment Lawyers in Calgary, Alberta by ThreeBestRated for the fifth year in a row. He was also named one of the Top 3 Business Lawyers in Calgary, Alberta for the third year in a row, and one of the Top 3 Divorce Lawyers in Calgary, Top 3 Estate Planning Lawyers in Calgary, and Top 3 Civil Litigation Lawyers in Calgary, Alberta for the second year in a row.

2021 Nominations

The accolades don’t end there for Charles Osuji in 2021. In addition to the awards, he was nominated for the Black Excellence Award by Calgary Black Chambers, the 2021 Les Prix Canie Awards’ Black Entrepreneur Award, and the 2021 Torch Awards by Better Business Bureau.

Ongoing Nominations & Awards for Charles Osuji

The acclamation of 2021 followed increasing recognition in 2020, including being named a Young Influencer by Canadian Magazine in their list of Canada’s Top 25 Most Influential Lawyers, and the 2020 Immigrant of Distinction (Achievement Under 35) Award by Immigrant Services Calgary.

Osuji was also nominated for the 2020 Employer Awards for Newcomer Employment by Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship Canada and the 2020 Canadian Bar Association’s Douglas Miller Rising Star Award.

Awards Osuji won in 2019 included the 2019 Hope Awards by Aspen Family and Community Network Society, the 2019 Entrepreneur of the Year (Afro Canadians) Award by Diversity Magazine, and the 2019 CY Ekwulugo Award for Volunteering and Community Service, courtesy of the Igbo Cultural Association of Calgary, Alberta.

Influential & Award-Winning Lawyer Charles Osuji

Despite all this attention, Osuji remains dedicated to giving back to the community in various ways while leading his own law firm with excellence. His entrepreneurial, multicultural, and holistic approach to the practice of law makes him a role model for diversity and the legal profession in general.

Besides running a free legal clinic primarily for Calgary’s newcomer population, and mentoring Canadian immigrants through the Calgary Catholic Immigration Society, Osuji continues to offer his expertise with:

– Alberta Legal Aid,
– the Alberta Law Society Lawyer Referral Service,
– Igbo Cultural Association of Calgary,
– the Mustard Seed,
– Habitat for Humanity, and
– his church, where he plays piano.

Osuji’s law firm Osuji & Smith Lawyers has won awards and recognitions as well, including:

Top Choice of Business Law Services of 2021 in Calgary
– 2021 Best Business in Canada by Canadian Business Review Board
– Best Employment Lawyers in Calgary
– Best Real Estate Lawyers in Calgary
– Best Family Lawyers in Calgary
– Best Divorce Lawyers in Calgary

Osuji & Smith Lawyers provides services in various areas of law including employment and labour law, family, real estate, wills and estate, corporate commercial and business, personal injury, civil litigation, and immigration law.

Contact Lawyer Charles Osuji, one of Calgary’s top lawyers, at 403-283-8018 or by email at info@osujismith.ca.

Founded in 1980, Osuji & Smith: Calgary Employment, Business & Family Lawyers is a diverse, fast-growing, award-winning Calgary full-service law firm with a focus on Employment Law, Civil Litigation, Real Estate, Family & Divorce, Personal Injury, Immigration, Business and Corporate, Wills and Estate.

Wednesday, December 29, 2021

Osi Umenyiora Has Been Finding Football Talent in Nigeria, But He Wants To Do More

Osi Umenyiora


BY JELANI SCOTT, NFL

Osi Umenyiora's feats on and off the football field provided him with an opportunity to become a hero in more ways than one.

For 20 years, the former New York Giants defensive end has quietly donated resources to his homeland of Nigeria, but over time, those efforts began to feel to Umenyiora like "pouring a cup of water into the ocean." So he regrouped and soon realized he could use his influence to give his people something invaluable: "The opportunity to help themselves."

As Umenyiora explained: "Education is the most important thing, and I think that you'll realize that most people who come from Africa, it's like a mindset, it's something that is instilled in them."

In a recent interview with NFL.com, the NFL star-turned-businessman discussed his latest humanitarian effort, known as The Uprise, a football program established in Nigeria by Umenyiora and former Nigerian pro basketball player Ejike Ugboaja, whom Umenyiora has known for nearly a decade, earlier this year.

The program was recently spotlighted in an episode of NFL Network's NFL 360, which chronicled a group of talented prospects as they competed for a chance to train at the NFL Academy in London or for a spot in the NFL's International Player Pathway Program.

But the work that was covered there is now behind them -- and Umenyiora's hoping the work that lies ahead will go beyond football. He said while he's proud of the overall level of talent he's seen thus far, the organization still has "a long way to go."

"We had some of the guys come over to the UK combine, and the people who saw them were wowed," Umenyiora said. "They were amazed by the level of size, strength and athleticism these guys have, and I was just telling them there's so many more of them there who just need that opportunity, right? And the mentality and the work ethic that they all have, it's not just, 'Oh, I need to make it the NFL.' They want to go to school, they just want a chance to do something better with their lives, and American football is pretty much a sport that gives them that opportunity."

Umenyiora was born in London and made his name as a 21-year-old standout at Troy University. But from the ages of 7 to 14, he lived with his family in Nigeria. And that upbringing appears to have played a sizable role in determining both who he was as a player and who he is as a man.

So when Umenyiora speaks of a "mentality," it's clear he's not talking about a team mantra or writings on a chalkboard, but a state of mind shared by those who grew up in a similar environment.

"My parents didn't want me to play football, and that story is very common amongst a lot of African households," he explained. "The parents aren't really interested in sport; they're very interested in education. So, for me, I got my degree in business administration; whether or not I made it to the NFL, I might not have been super successful but at least I would've been OK. Like, I would've been better than I was when I was over there.

"I think that the main principle of this whole program is the kids who are coming, the people who are coming, they need to understand that yes, football is great, yes, football can do incredible things for you, but the percentage of people that make it is so low that you have to be focused on your education, so we're going to make sure that they do that."

The three young men who had the chance to travel to the International Combine in London in October -- Kehinde Oginni Hassan, Haggai Chisom Ndubuisi and Chigbo Roy Mbaeteka -- were representing not just The Uprise, but the power of having an opportunity to overcome your surroundings.

What cannot be overlooked about The Uprise is its function as a potential beacon of hope in a society where those that are fortunate enough to go to college struggle mightily to find employment after graduation. Those under Umenyiora and Ugboaja's tutelage could have additional doors opened to them by their participation in the program.

Umenyiora, a former mid-major star, hopes their efforts steer an abundance of prospects to HBCUs, a previously underserved sector of talent that the NFL has made a recent attempt to show more support toward.

"Why does Texas and Oklahoma and Alabama," Umenyiora expressed, "why do they have to have all the five-star athletes? Why can't Troy and FAMU [Florida A&M University] and ... the HBCUs, why can't they have five-star talent also? We can provide that. So, as long as there's demand and we have the athleticism to provide, we're gonna be fine."

Could The Uprise one day cultivate a high school phenom whose signing sends Jackson State-level shockwaves across the country? It's certainly possible, based on what the program has accomplished already.

It was abundantly evident in speaking with Umenyiora that he is as focused on getting players into classrooms as he is getting them into the end zone. When asked to look ahead, he made it clear that the future of the program will be centered around accomplishing that goal.

"If we're able to get hundreds of players into schools in America, a bunch of players into the academy in the UK, prep schools, high schools, colleges, if we're able to get that, that's pretty much the only thing that I'm going to consider a success, and I believe it's very possible, because the level of talent is there," he said.

As for what's up next for The Uprise in 2022, Umenyiora said there are plans to host high-level camps in Kenya, Senegal, Cameroon, Uganda and, of course, Nigeria. He said they are looking at a "bunch of companies to host these camps," but those talks are ongoing.

From there, the top 50 prospects from those sessions will be sent to a NFL-operated camp in Ghana in June, where NFL players and coaches, and potentially a few colleges, are scheduled to be on-site. Only the top 20 will move on to one of the NFL's programs.

Umenyiora said the main camp in Ghana is meant to be a showcase of "what we're all about." So far, the chances of that being a good impression are trending upward.

Monday, December 02, 2019

From Nigeria To The Bangor City Council: Angela Okafor Makes History

Angela Okafor works with a law client in her office. Image: Robbie Feinberg



Earlier this month, Angela Okafor made history. She's believed to be the first immigrant and person of color elected to the Bangor City Council. Okafor's journey to elected office has required her to navigate numerous barriers in order to make a living in Maine. And now she's dedicated to supporting other immigrants in an overwhelmingly white area of the state.

Angela Okafor's small shop, called Tropical Tastes and Styles, is a bit hidden, behind a music store along Harlow Street in downtown Bangor.

"We're going to tamper with a little bit of it. We don't have a ton." On a recent afternoon, Okafor is braiding a hair weave for a local woman sitting near the front window. Nearby, Okafor's daughter zooms on a razor scooter through shelves of international food. Racks of clothing line the wall. And near the back is a small law office that Okafor also operates.

While it can be busy, she says it's become a place that immigrants seek out for food - and connection.

"To me this is more than just a business," Okafor says. "Like I said, this is more of a community. If you look over there, you see a collection of winter clothing that I collect. And for me, I grew up struggling. I struggled a lot growing up. So right now I feel privileged. I'm very religious, and I feel blessed."

A shop like this didn't exist in Bangor when Okafor and her husband moved here about a dozen years ago. They grew up in Nigeria, and emigrated to the city on a work visa.

The move was hard, Okafor says. Accents and language barriers made it tough to communicate. And she says as one of few immigrants in a new, very white region of the state, people put up walls that made it tough to feel comfortable.

"Being, especially like me, coming from away, not seeing people like myself," she says. "And you know, people are like, still kind of scoping at you, like, 'Who is that one? Are we even safe around?' You know?"

And just as big of a challenge, says Okafor, was overcoming barriers to work. She had already earned a law degree in her home country. But she says she had to pass the bar exam in New York because of difficulties transferring her credentials in Maine.

And even when she finally did get admitted, Okafor says it was nearly impossible to get her foot in the door. She applied to all kinds of jobs in the legal field, but says she was either told she was overqualified or needed, quote, "Maine experience."

It's a struggle for many immigrants, she says. "Being frustrated is beyond the description. I feel free to talk about this now because I am my own employer. But imagine a lot of other people who go through that, but cannot speak up. And yet we are here, and we are talking about a workforce shortage."

Eventually, fed up with the job search, Okafor launched her own practice, specializing in immigration. She got help from her church, which let her use a spare office.

"So I would go in there and consult. And I can take my papers and go wherever and work. I could work out of the library. I could come here and work on my case, anywhere I could be. There was a time I drove down to Portland, and I consulted in my car. So I was just doing anything I could."

It was a lot of work. But Okafor says she was prepared to do more. While Bangor's immigrant population has grown in recent years, it's still tiny compared to a city like Portland or Boston.

And at one point, Okafor noticed that many immigrants were leaving the Bangor area for other cities because they missed being able to find foods or other goods from their home countries.

"And I'm like, how can I actually do this so that people will stop moving?" she says. "Because I really didn't like that they were moving away. And the thoughts came: What if I can get food? Because food is a big thing."

"So we have tons of things. This is from Asia, Phillipines," Okafor says, pointing to the results of her decision to do something about the issue three years ago.

Okafor opened Tropical Tastes, carrying foods from across the world. And as demand for certain goods and services has expanded, so has her business. She even taught herself hair weaving and African braiding after hearing that some local women were driving hours for those services.

Regular customer Emmanuel Asare says the shop has helped him feel more comfortable in a city where he often felt out of place. Asare moved to Bangor about three years ago.

"I felt like I was somewhere different, because of color," Asare says. "You wouldn't see a whole lot of black people around."

But Asare says when he visits the shop and picks up meat or fufu, a West African dish, he feels more at home. "Sometimes you just want to feel the home things. In the whole of Bangor, this is the only place you will feel like there is a store that you can go in that has what you've been buying way back in Africa, or something like that. Or where you have a lot of African community."

"Sometimes people come in here, initially, they are scared," Okafor says. And Okafor says over time, the shop became more than just a store. It also earned a reputation as a trusted place for immigrants seeking assistance or services - or connections to others in the community.

"They're like, 'Thank you, thank you. That this person connected me or, the other person connected me,'" Okafor says. "Or the community I connected them to is like, 'Oh, thank you.' And it's really very refreshing. And, like I said, it did not cost me a dime. That is the beauty of it."

In her new role as city councilor, Okafor says she hopes to rely on her experience as an immigrant and business owner who spent years navigating a complicated system. Bangor City Council Chair Clare Davitt says that perspective will be important as the city takes up major issues such as transit and housing over the next few years.

"And then to have her knowledge of law, and as a small business owner, that representation matters so much, especially as we are losing workforce and trying to rebuild that," Davitt says.

Okafor says she wants to focus her energies on bolstering that workforce, and on improving public transportation, which she says can make the city more accessible for working families.


MAINE PUBLIC RADIO

Thursday, November 21, 2019

Igbo Presidency: Unwelcome Mandate

Igbo Union Pioneers: M.I. Okpara (L) and Nnamdi Azikiwe (C) at a political rally, 1959. Michael Iheonukara Okpara was born in Umuahia, a political leader and Premier of Eastern Nigeria during the First Republic from 1959 to 1966. Okpara attended the Uzuakoli Methodist College, where he won a scholarship to study medicine at Yaba Higher College, Lagos. Completing his medical studies at the Nigerian School of Medicine, he worked briefly as a government medical officer in Lagos before returning to Umuahia to set up a private practice. After the Pogrom and Biafra War, Okpara lived in Ireland, on exile, until his return in 1979. He died December 17, 1984. Nnamdi Azikiwe was born in Zungeru, a political leader and was Nigeria's last Governor-General from 1960 to 1963 and the first president from 1963 to 1966. He was the father of modern Nigeria nationalism. Zik attended Hope Wadell Training Institute, Calabar, and Methodist Boys' High School Lagos, then to the United States securing admission at Howard University in Washington, D.C. He would enroll at Lincoln University, Pennsylvania obtaining degrees in Religion and Anthropology. He worked as an instructor at Lincoln before returning to Nigeria. Upon returning to Nigeria, he founded the West African Pilot, in 1934, using it as an effective tool to fight the British Colonial administrators in the region. He died May 11, 1996 at the University of Nigeria Teaching Hospital, Enugu. Image Courtesy of the Nigeria Nostalgia Project.




There is no single day that passes by Igbo presidency, and its timing, and rightfully placed spot, of electing an Igbo president is not mentioned in the nation's tabloid journalism, in essays, commentaries on a variety of airwaves, beer parlors' usual crackpot intoxicating effects, social gatherings, informal debates, Igbo related forums, local political membership clubs, and any forum identified with the Igbo, and how the danger poses a wide range of problems resulting from the Igbo still not aware of the political play attracting such conventions, while the power brokers and ruling elites of the Fulani Caliphate oligarchical class watch gleefully how it should be unfolding, and how the shots would be called, and its design, and the players, regardless of background, and eventually, when stamped as done deal on its final call by the caliphates, knowing an Igbo president is still a mirage, and would continue to be a mirage until the caliphate oligarchical class gets saturated with the Nigerian enterprise. Igbo president of an entrapped nation state doesn't exist. It just won't happen.

And we are not too far from memory in our experiences of how we've been thrown around in what happened to have originated by the pragmatic Igbo and his men of industry, I have mentioned times without number; and another familiar case of Goodluck Jonathan I had made clear his presidency represented the Igbo spot, and was an "Army Arrangement" plot, organized by the Fulani Caliphates and their collaborators.

The caliphate has never encountered any problem in its platform to determine who should be assigned a slot and what circumstances calls for it's implementation, and at what given time, whenever the quest for the presidency becomes a hot topic on what particular tribe gets the merit, from its political standings and waiting time, especially the Igbo, in her elusive game, from the moment a nation was fabricated, even when a political party is not sure of its slot and how the propaganda works in a crumbling, dictatorial, democracy like Nigeria.

The Igbo extraction of the entrapment is subjected to present not only who had been passive in mind, and actions, but a representative of the status quo, to feed from the crumbs of the caliphate and run out to the public square and applaud their captors on becoming conducts and get more access to the leftovers that had given them life, which has been the situation of alleged Igbo presidency, since the military juntas left, and after the junta, Abdulsalami Abubakar's indoctrination to guide the 4th Republic, was used, which remains valid on the floor of an inconsequential, inept and corrupt National Assembly. A National Assembly without clue what democracy stood for and the foundations that kept it intact and viable. A lawless place, legislated by imbeciles and corrupt and criminal masterminds.

The irony of all the events surrounding Nigeria's political plays following the apparent bad regimes in a civilian order, kidnappings begun anew, frequent assassinations, religious leaders partake and influence in government, press censorship and imprisonment of journalists, military institutions still enforcing decrees on roadblocks, series of Human Rights violations, police forces forced to abandon the implementation of the rules to set up criminal enterprises, in a society that dramatically welcomes a state of empire and anarchy, while the United States and the West, looks the other way round. Proper governance and democracy itself has been jeopardized. This is the present situation Nigeria finds itself, and comfortable enough, the population seems to be fine with it.

In as much as the interest sounds very much political and affiliation with the ruling elite, and a scramble to favor the caliphate oligarchical class, and the directives that sees the control of power, having nothing to do with its democratic proceedings and standard of a democratic fabric, by way of its constitution determining the outcome, and not by political party principles, then they can be assured the playing field has never been leveled in their favor, but on the benefit of the caliphate even when they are not running the affairs of state, giving the agitators reason to put their demand into perspective, and on their own very interest and, heavily relying on "nku ukwa igba n'Abuja," ballooning like fat cats, often a trend and remark for social economic status, used as machinery to intimidate others.

And we must not forget to bear in mind that before anything political of a nation-state ever surfaced, Igbo had kept its republican ideals applicable and complete, upholding its rule of customary laws through organized representation and rules that governs it. And upon creation of the Igbo Union, all had been concretely sustained following profound leadership with no social contract. But that order would be hijacked not because a better and more progressive options had been obtained, but a people so unique in its tradition and cultural heritage would fall apart, entirely from its standard; for instance, the jumbled and bellicose World Igbo Congress, the WIC, acclaimed Igbo umbrella, the elitist Ohanaeze Nd'Igbo, the ego-tripping Igbo Cultural Association of Nigeria-Dallas/Forth Worth, the do-nothing Igbo Cultural Association of Southern California, Owerri Progressive Union, Owerri Peoples Union, Anambra State Association, Imo State Congress, Old Orlu Province Association, Igbo Mandate Union and the list goes on, and on, of organizations without effective tools and couldn't come up with anything substantial and credible in time of its challenges.

And, on the social landscape toward organizational effectiveness: the women social club and its watch on preserving Omenala Igbo, rules of engagement and Igbo cultural heritage, Anaedo Social Club, Peoples Club of Nigeria, etc, with a barrage of confusion showing nothing else but flamboyance of its outfits, swaggering around at any picnic, a commonplace thing right now, when these organizations should be engaging in serious stuff, keeping the fundamentals of its forebears whole.

From how it was said to have begun in what had been new era of a peoples' fate, almost forgotten until the ideal of an indivisible, national states, emerges, recognizing the values of freedom in every of its discipline, and justice to keep an upcoming republic intact and viable; after the military juntas had ruined the state in its entirety, raping the treasury empty and topping it off by destroying all aspects of civil liberties, for a very long time in their stay with absolute power, which left the civilian population permanently disfigured.

Upon all that, there was high expectations that the coming republic would learn a lot of lessons from its past, deriving nothing in what had gone wrong over the years from a bunch of power holding juntas, that came out of the military barracks with their guns, when what had generated political discourses and formation of political parties to engage in political maneuvers, in another experiment seeking what would be a more credible, elected president than previously held, looked very much like a fix by the juntas who had disguised its order, joined and headed the civilian structure.

It was not to be; the handlers who were still fragments of the same juntas that used their impunity, the barrels of the gun, to decide how the country should be ruled, drawing their map and positioning their pick at the nation's critical time and the dire need for good governance, still called all the shots until it was all over, with a stamp, in continuity; as they sneaked in their own, the election of Olusegun Obasanjo, to begin the 4th Republic after almost every option had been exhausted, and, after the civilian population was yet to recover from its state of comatose, from the brutal beatings by the military juntas. The civilian structure never recovered.

And with all that badly beat up vulnerable Igbo elite and political junkies, permanently battered, and not much that they could do but go with the "flow" on the juntas' terms and agree on whatever that had been made available as the case had been; even though they could have done much, much better to reject what the juntas had doctored as available document, representing the peoples constitution.

But then, and again, to be sure, on who would be elected president of another experiment of a republic supervised by the juntas who had added clauses in their favor, leaving a population without choices, to have the ultimate right in rejecting such fabricated constitution for an 'authentic' one, a written document prepared on the consent of the people and endorsed on its behalf by the delegates representing their districts, their wards, their zones, etc. and as the case may be, to put in place a constitution that is totally endorsed by the people, of their consent. It's just as simple as that, and that's how a normal democracy functions. But the Nigerian national state had been dogged by the juntas which still plays till today as the constitution they fabricated is the one still used in the National Assembly.

It never went that way, to follow the guidelines of democratic principles, respecting the rule of law and upholding its democratic constitution written from a perspective of the peoples mandate. What the juntas had done was, in observing how critical, how gullible and how vulnerable a battered population had been subjected to, having not much of a choice at the time of said transition a convicted erstwhile military junta who had come close to death out of nowhere within the nations political arena, was revived and in a 180 degrees turn, became the party's flag bearer, pushing aside one that had founded the committee of friends and its political action committee, and groups to initiate throughout its explorations what would be the Peoples Democratic Party, the PDP and its blueprint to guide its political process.

What had not been considered by the people was their political stupidity and the inability not to have resented and declined to any form of platform in transition as prescribed by the band of military juntas who are still in their presence today, challenging them with the "in-your-face" attitude that we own the power, and would always, since you couldn't get your acts together, with more factual instances of a sitting president, who hates free speech and was once a dictator and a murderous lot, and his colleague who begun the 4th Republic under the auspices of their arrangements in a following order, succinctly described by the Chief Priest Fela Kuti, in one of his protest songs, "Army Arrangement."

What is more ironic is a civilian population that had been permanently subdued and lost every sense of purpose and belonging to situate itself, and be able to call the shots on behalf of the people. That challenge surfaced when former military junta, Obasanjo, had mistakenly assumed he had a puppet he'd rubber stamped to follow his orders. It backfired and an alternative was desperately needed to quiet a standby "barrels of the gun," as former junta, Muhammadu Buhari, was suggested to end a nightmare and deprivation to the bunch of military juntas who just couldn't take it anymore in order to restore its cultural norm.

And while the entire mess was allowed to go on and unchecked, a set of people, an ethnic group of the nation's major stock were caught in between making up their mind, knowing exactly what it demands on grounds of national leadership and the current trend it should follow, and having what it took to pursue its cause, and its rightful place on national standing which had long been dragged from colonial times until this present day, the possibilities now bears the same resemblance of the Biblical camel passing through the eye of a needle than a sinner to be admitted into God's Kingdom.

The 4th republic had made nonsense of democracy to which the civilian population should have adhered to, the power belonging to the people on the grounds and the ideal that the military institutions were meant to defend the nation's territories on the orders of the commander-in-chief, who by all accounts is the nation's chief executive to decide when it's appropriate and adequate to declare war against enemies of the state.

But as we tend to soon forget, the origins of a fabricated national state on which the colonists established nations that had nothing in common, as they did in the Balkans, the Ottoman Empire and elsewhere, directing its leadership and the nationals in question left without much choices as the quest and the need to be free became what was vital to survival and the escape from bondage, using the tribal leaders in its experiment which had suggested its genuine mandate while they, the colonists, gave all the directives, dictating how a freed nation should run its affairs of state. As it had also happened, prior before its freedom, its tribal leaders had never gotten along, an apparent indication it had not meant to be, and what was bound to take effect was mistakenly agreed upon, perhaps on the probabilities a sense of place and oneness would be understood to situate the nations accordingly.

In what had occurred during the constitutional conferences, the tribal leaders from a colonial observation had been carved out from three ethnic groups as key-point to sustaining what would be its democracy, while the ethnic minorities, not given a shot and recognized, were trapped in the midst of the three major ethnic groups--Igbo, Yoruba and Hausa--and couldn't play any significant role in the formation of the republic as independently engaged, but on the sidelines which erupted the agitation for self reliance. It was not until some of the ethnic minorities had begun to make their presence known, through series of its agitations, and the need for them to go their separate ways, that the colonial administrators gave it a thought, starting with the Willink Commission and the grievances of the ethnic minorities in their requests for plebiscites, with concerns on the Ibibio, Annangs, Ijaw, Ogoni and the rest of the tribal creeks and inhabitants in the woods of the Niger-Delta, even though tribal politics and ethnic interests had already emerged.

The Midwest, however, was carved out, eventually, with a widespread Igbo speaking population, including the Isokos, Urhobos, Ijaws, Itsekiris and others from what was originally Western Region, sustaining its reliance of state and share of the nation's revenue formula derived mainly from oil production. At the time of these political and power plays, the House of the Caliphate, up north in the nation's landscape, ran the affairs of state on the basis of higher figures, on democratic terms, while the southern leaders squabbled over political supremacy, as the confusion was established and never stopped, and no longer hidden that the nation was wrongly carved--a contraption.

The three ethnic leaders in what had become a tradition in the nation's political landscape, and the Igbo being the front runner toward the initiative from establishing the Igbo Union in respect to its republican ideals which propped up free thinking individuals while the colonial administrators decided what should matter and the obligations of controlling the state, empowering the northern elites to dog an entire nation in all cases that may arise, sharing currency with monarchy and where power should belong while the Zikist and Awoist movements looked and picked up quarrels among each other, creating the divide and hatred that stands till today in Southern Nigeria.

The ethnic rivalries--Nnamdi Azikiwe and Obafemi Awolowo--of the Igbo and Yoruba stock, had better ideas but were not tactical and had lacked the vision to have rejected any referendum in the fabrication of a nation state that would be Nigeria, knowing too well from their experiences the implications of agreeing on the terms of the colonial administrators to form a union while both had accused each other of tribalism and "master-racing," which Awolowo had earlier accused the Zikist Movement, feeling the threats of Igbo supremacy.

But a look at how it all began. Igbo had no parallel upon the race, when the colonial administrators saw a band of multiple contestants gearing for a fabricated national leadership as the colonists wanted it, to keep what had been intentionally deceitful, together and "progressive", to their own advantage. Nevertheless, the Igbo had worked so hard, and had been diligent to produce the fronntiersmen, leaders who had committed themselves to sustain a profound Igbo nationhood. The task was arduous. The commitment was honest. The roles were significant and expectations, very high. There were political disagreements but the notion was a mark of collectivity, which ultimately leads to utopia. There were factions and cultural deviations relating to its conduct. The ideal was phenomenal and the purpose, becoming and, for Igbo common good, which was achieved before the colonial administrators hijacked the moments.

The best Igbo minds had assembled on a variety of discipline in meetings, and in different locations, and no substitute could be compared to their hard work: Nnamdi Azikiwe, Kingsley Mbadiwe, Mbonu Ojike, M. I. Okpara, Nwafor Orizu, Louis Mbanefo, Francis Akanu Ibiam, Gogo Chu Nzeribe, Dennis Osadebay, Okeke Ojiudu, Francis Akanu Ibiam, Jaja Wachukwu, Josiah Okezie, Louis N. Obioha, Louis Ojukwu, Alvan Ikoku, Okechukwu Ikejiani, the thoughtful laymen and as the list goes on and on, not to mention the haul of scholars--Chinua Achebe, John Munonye, Kenneth Dike, and others, and the ideal these Igbo pioneers had left as legacy was easily wiped out from the political stupidity of those the mantle had been enthroned while confronted by a machinery that wants the Igbo indefinitely lowered in status. And of course, that machinery succeeded, in every of its applications to permanently paralyze the Igbo for good.

What erupted then after, regarding effective and sound following, was tragic with a trace to what had ended the Pogrom and the Biafran War. The dramatic changes of the foundations showed no sympathy. It was total with ominous consequences and, the Igbo would be victim of an experiment begun by the colonial administrators. And henceforth, a population that had been meant to continue and move on with an overwhelming national wealth derived from oil production and a buoyant human capital, and a 'Reconstruction' tailored to heal the battle wounds, would make a sudden 90 degrees turn, while comfortable with its operations--giving the military juntas and vandals every permission to do whatever they liked from credits of plundering and demolishing Biafra.

The military would take it and promulgate decrees to quiet a politically impotent civil society, censoring its vibrant press while they kept funny books, giving no accounts of its regime and exercising power on a turn-by-turn basis, one junta after another, raping the nation's treasury without questions asked, slamming the civilians too vocal by challenging their authority; and by the time they were saturated and done, the civilian population and its structure had been disfigured perpetually. Such is the case today as the juntas and its 'northern ruling elites' maintain the status quo.

Did I not say it, that Igbo will not be president of Nigeria because they have never been prepared when the testings takes real form and that, the usual nasty political play would hinder it? And the simple truth, that the Igbo lost every sense of belonging and purpose, to establish a profound leadership?

Have I not been writing over the years about the confused bunch of Igbos who walk our political corridors as leaders? Have I not said it over and over again that Nd'Igbo are misguided on the grounds of lacking a true, authentic leadership?

Didn't I point it out in their face, on many occasions, at community meetings, conventions and related events, that save for the usual picnic, which they should be given credit, that nothing could be said of its accomplishments since Yakubu Gowon's-led genocidal campaign against the Igbo nation, from around which they adopted the platforms and outfits of their haters, the bigots who had wanted them wiped out from the face of this planet?

When I had told the confused and oftentimes infallible Igbo bunch that they need to rethink their strategies toward effecting change in Ala-Igbo, did they not haggle rather than tackle and seek resolve on a heap of problems like in Ode Mkpishi Chinua Achebe's story line of a man who had abandoned his burning house to chase the rat fleeing from the flames?

On its national programs to create and develop a chain of related media in terms of an engaging propaganda tool, and in tune with Igbo political and, cultural ideals, thus a standard newspaper, journal, newsletters, consistent editorials and things like that, in order to stay in business and face the challenges of feasible communication and effective press, and that, nothing really would matter if Igbo stubbornly and deliberately fails to stand out with its own independent newspaper covered by its own variety of editors, staff and writers which would put meaning into the Igbo subject.

Did I not mention that in numerous occasions and entirely worn out, that the celebrated Igbo writers were a bunch pursuing their own personal interest and reason why they had sealed their lips so as not to jeopardize their chances while they play to the gallery alongside their enemies who would attack and destroy them, and nothing would happen other than a people whose history had been of administrative and political impotence to take the choice of being pacific?

When I had written the series of pieces about the Igbo presidency and debates that had followed over the years including related symposiums once conducted at Igbo Forum, was I not said to be writing to put a monkey wrench into Igbo matters and the presidency I had no "authority" on?

And following that, and putting every other thing into outlook of things, did I not with distress, when militants of other ethnic backgrounds were gunning down their targets, causing all kinds of havoc, threatening the security of the state and yet allowed to go scot-free, while MASSOB leader Ralph Uwazuruike was locked up and never given a chance to be released, and why "Igbo leaders" sat idly and watched Ganiyu Adams, Frederick Fasheun and Asari Dokubo make deals with the federal biased authority; and would be let go unconditionally while Uwazuruike was permanently shut and isolated in the gulag, question a do-nothing Igbo leadership on what explains their keeping a tight lip?

When Igbo leaders of thought, wherever they were, upon reaching decisions for a permanent burial ground for the Biafran heroes and nobody had wanted to be seen as leading the cause, Orji Uzor Kalu, then governor of Abia State, who took the challenge and allowed Umuahia as the last resort when a designated Uli was declined by Chinwoke Clement Mbadinuju because of threats he received from "I dey Kampe" Obasanjo, did I not applaud Kalu and praised his doctrine?: "Orji Kalu, Leadership And Igbos Political Future," even though said piece was widely distributed on the web, did Igbo not accuse me of writing for foreign news organizations and later brought forth by Kevin Ani, that I should be engineering Igbo paper?

Upon Muhammadu Buhari's series of attempts at the presidency, the Igbo were still stuck with their right of place to the presidency and a raging debate with all the viewpoints basically the same, saturating the papers with boredom as the substance of the debates about Igbo and the presidency waned. A "right of place", if Igbo had been strategically consistent in its persuasion as one entity and not the political plays that divided its motive, they would by now reached a point where they'd had no need for the presidency as they'd be controlling every aspect of the economy with its manpower, intellectual power house and political clout.

But on a case of sad reality, here we are again, on a presidential election Igbo played no major role in determining who should be elected while the otimkpus, the alarmists, on the beat and how they understood the Igbo situation and politics in Nigeria never stopped making noise in their engagements to seek relevance.

Igbo has more to worry about in its quest for the common good on what surrounds them than agitation for a presidency slot that would continue to keep them divided without one voice.


A scene outside the Eastern Region House of Assembly at Enugu with crowds watching an investiture ceremony when regional states influenced its independent powers and made decisions without federal character. Circa 1960

Saturday, June 15, 2019

At Joyful Mass, Archbishop Gregory Ordains 10 New Priests For Archdiocese Of Washington

After the Ordination Mass ended, the Archdiocese of Washington's 10 new priests processed down the center and side aisles and were greeted with loud applause. The new priests included, from left, Father Ebuka Mbanude, Father Jan Pietryga, Father Michael Russo, Father John Benson, Father Brendan Glasgow and Father Benjamin Petty. (CS photo/Andrew Biraj)


MARK ZIMMERMANN

WASHINGTON (CATHOLIC STANDARD)
-- Presiding at a Mass on what he noted was a “joyful day for the Archdiocese of Washington,” Archbishop Wilton Gregory ordained 10 new priests for the archdiocese on June 15 at the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception.

Addressing a standing-room congregation of 3,500 people filling the largest Catholic Church in the United States, Archbishop Gregory said, “God’s people are gathered here in joy this morning, because these 10 men are being invited to begin their priestly ministry in imitation of the Good Shepherd.”

In his homily, Washington’s archbishop encouraged the men who were about to be ordained to model their lives after Jesus, the Good Shepherd, and reflect Christ’s love and care for His flock as they carry out their priestly ministry.

“Beloved sons, you are to be pastors in the image of the Good Shepherd,” he said.

At the dramatic two and one-half hour Mass, Archbishop Gregory did the laying on of hands on the candidates for priesthood, asking the Holy Spirit to fill them with wisdom and grace, and then he extended his hands over the candidates, offering a prayer of ordination, as he ordained Father John Benson, Father Joseph Cwik, Father Brendan Glasgow, Father Christian Huebner, Father Ebuka Mbanude, Father Stefan Megyery, Father Patrick Mullan, Father Benjamin Petty, Father Jan Pietryga and Father Michael Russo.

The dramatic procession at the beginning of the Mass was led by an honor guard of about two dozen Knights of Columbus, followed by 24 deacons, more than 175 priests and the 10 men to be ordained priests. The procession also included Archbishop Gregory; Cardinal Donald Wuerl, the archbishop emeritus of Washington; and Washington Auxiliary Bishops Mario Dorsonville, Roy Campbell Jr., and Michael Fisher.

After the readings, the candidates for priesthood were called forth by name and presented to the archbishop as being worthy of ordination. Archbishop Gregory approved the candidates, and the congregation applauded as a sign of affirmation.

In his homily, Archbishop Gregory thanked the candidates’ families, and he encouraged the future priests to devote their pastoral ministry to helping people draw closer to Jesus and find freedom in Christ’s love and truth and to seek healing through God’s mercy.

“You are to share the Church’s treasure of faith in the sacraments you celebrate,” said the archbishop.

Archbishop Gregory said the Eucharist should be at the heart of their ministry and at the center of their lives. “The Bread of Life which you break for people must be the source of your strength,” he said.

He also encouraged them to remember the mystery of the sacraments they celebrate and never let their liturgical ministries become routine, because they represent God’s presence. The archbishop also asked them to be men of deep prayer in imitation of Jesus, and let their journey of faith and their words and service reflect their prayerful search for the Lord.

While priestly celibacy might seem an enigma to the world, “still it remains a wondrous gift for the Church,” Archbishop Gregory said, noting that the priests by witnessing to Christ’s selfless love can be like the grain of wheat in the Gospel that can lead to a bountiful harvest for God.

“Be men of transparent goodness,” he said, encouraging them to reflect joy, integrity, honesty and warmth in their priesthood.

Archbishop Gregory noted that they would soon join the presbyterate of Washington. “We are all ordinary men,” he said, noting that the archdiocese’s priests have different interests, including some who play soccer and others who prefer golf, and some who might consider themselves traditional and others who are progressive on church matters, but all are brother priests who need the support of each other as they shepherd God’s flock in this area. Speaking of the new priests’ unity with him as their bishop, he said they are called to work together to build up the body of Christ in the archdiocese.

“My young sons, soon you will stand in the midst of God’s flock as new priests,” said Archbishop Gregory, who encouraged them to follow the advice of St. Peter in that day’s second reading, who called on priests to be witnesses of Christ and tend to the flock in their midst. “Give them a shepherd’s care, always,” the archbishop said.

After the homily, the ordinandi offered promises to carry out their ministries faithfully and to be obedient to their archbishop. The 10 men then lay prostrate before the altar as the congregation offered prayers for them and called on the intercession of the angels and saints, chanting a litany of the saints that included prayers to the Blessed Mother, to St. Joseph, St. Peter and St. Paul, St. John Paul II, and St. Teresa of Calcutta.

Archbishop Gregory then did the laying on of the hands on each candidate for ordination, and all the priests in attendance lined up and laid hands on them. Moments later, Archbishop Gregory offered a prayer of ordination over the candidates. Then the newly ordained priests were invested with stoles and chasubles by priests who had mentored them during their vocational journey.

Now wearing their priestly vestments, the new priests each knelt before the archbishop, who anointed their palms with chrism. Members of the new priests’ families brought up the offertory gifts, and Archbishop Gregory moments later placed the chalice and paten in the hands of each new priest as they knelt before him, as a sign that as priests they will be presiding at the Eucharist.

Then Archbishop Gregory, followed by all the priests in attendance, offered a sign of peace to their 10 new brother priests.

The new priests then joined the archbishop at the altar during the consecration of the Eucharist, and they also joined him in distributing Communion to the people at the Mass.

After Communion, the Choir of the archdiocese’s Reemptoris Mater Seminary sang a joyful song of thanksgiving, accompanied by guitars.

Moments later, the new priests stood side-by-side in front of the altar, offering their first blessing to the congregation, and then they were joined by Archbishop Gregory for a group photo.

Loud applause cascaded through the basilica as the 10 new priests smiled and processed down the center aisle, following the deacons and priests.

After the Mass, the new priests offered blessings at chapels downstairs surrounding the shrine’s Memorial Hall and in the hall itself.

Like the people in the congregation for the Ordination Mass and like the people whom they will serve in parishes in the archdiocese, the priests ordained that day come from different backgrounds and from throughout the area, from across the country, and from around the world. Four grew up in Maryland cities or towns surrounding Washington, D.C., including Father Benson who is from Bethesda, Father Cwik who is from Poolesville, Father Glasgow who is from Olney, and Father Mullan who is from Rockville. Father Huebner is from Nebraska, Father Petty was born in Ohio, and Father Russo is from Massachusetts. Father Mbanude is from Nigeria, Father Megyery is from Germany, and Father Pietryga is from Poland.

More than a dozen women wearing traditional African headdresses marched through Memorial Hall, singing and swaying as they made their way to the chapel where Father Mbanude, who was born in Nigeria, would be offering his first priestly blessings. In Igbo, a language of Nigeria, they joyfully sang, “God is good, all the time.”

Later Tochukwu Obiwuma, one of the women who like many of those present is a member of the Nigerian Catholic Community in the Archdiocese of Washington, said it was a joyful day for local African Catholics, “because we knew him personally before he became a priest. We knew him as one of our brothers.”

Maria Russo, the mother of Father Russo, noted that about 50 family members and friends from the Boston area came to witness his ordination. She said his example has “brought a lot of people in my family back to church. That’s the biggest thing he’s done for our family.”

Father Y. David Brault, the pastor of St. John the Baptist Parish in Silver Spring, said driving to the ordination reminded him of his feelings as he drove toward St. Matthew’s Cathedral for his ordination to the priesthood in 1977. “You begin to well up inside with deep emotion. You begin to sense your own unworthiness, and your gratitude to God and the mystery of His grace in your life,” he said.

One of the new priests, Father Cwik, became the first priestly vocation from Our Lady of the Presentation Parish in Poolesville, where Father Brault had earlier served as the founding pastor.

“It’s a tribute to the fact that not only did we build the church (there)… but the community was able to sow seeds in his heart that made him desire to serve the Lord in priestly ministry,” said Father Brault.

At one chapel, Brendan Glasgow Sr. and his wife Beth received a priestly blessing from their son, Father Glasgow.

“It’s the accumulation of a beautiful faith journey,” the father said, adding that he was inspired by his son’s openness to responding to God’s call to priesthood. Beth Glasgow added, “My heart is full of gratitude to the Lord for his generosity on our family.”

Another of their seven children, James Glasgow, is also a seminarian for the archdiocese, and the family is also celebrating the recent birth of their first grandchild to their oldest son and his wife. Father Glasgow will be baptizing his niece this summer.

The following day, June 16, Father Glasgow will be celebrating his first Mass at the family’s home parish, St. Peter’s in Olney. When asked how special that Father’s Day would be for him, Brendan Glasgow Sr. smiled and said, “For him too!”


Friday, June 14, 2019

What I’ve Learned About Style From My Nigerian Father

My mother, father, and me with my two brothers, Anaelechi and Chike. Image: Chioma Nnadi via Vogue

BY CHIOMA NNADI

I’ve never thought of myself as much of a daddy’s girl. Though if I look back on my first childhood memories, it's clear my father had an idea of the woman I would become, even before I did. Picture a four-year-old me—chubby-cheeked, bow-legged with a neatly cropped afro—running wild through John Lewis, the bustling department store in London’s West End. Somehow, my dad knew exactly where to find me: not in the toy department on the fourth floor, but down on three with all the fashion. “Shiny shoes! Shiny shoes!” I wasn’t afraid to declare my love for this one pair of black patent leather Mary Janes. Imagine how cute they would look with my favorite sailor dress and frilly white socks? The obsession was real; my little heart was pounding. I turned to my dad with the biggest, puppy dog eyes. “Please, papa papa, please! I want them! I need them!

My mother, a nurse who’d been raised in the Swiss countryside with sensible shoes practically sewn into the soles of her feet, would have been horrified. And that was something my father knew full well. He also knew the kind of kid he had on his hands—relentless, stubborn, specific about everything—and one who seemed to share his penchant for fancy shoes, too. What was the poor guy to do? And so we shuffled home to face mum together: him in two-inch Cuban heels, me in my beloved shiny shoes.

Growing up, my father wasn’t someone I would think of as fashionable, but he always dressed with elegance and intention. He came to the U.K. from Nigeria to study economics in 1964. Three years later and Nigeria was ravaged by a civil war that pitted the government against Biafra, the secessionist state in the east where my father was born. I can’t imagine what it felt like for my dad to be so far from home during those tumultuous times, not knowing from one day to the next if his family and friends had been harmed or displaced. I do know that he still keeps a Biafran dollar in his wallet, one of the few ever to be printed, a crushing reminder of what could have been. Eager to know more about his childhood in Nigeria, I asked to see photos of him as a kid. A sad look passed over his face; there were no family photos, he explained. They’d been destroyed in the war along with just about everything else.

As the story goes, my father landed in London in the middle of winter with little more than a suitcase of neatly starched slacks and tailored shirts. According to him, he didn’t feel the cold at first. Instead of buying some cheap winter warmer, he saved up for a beautiful cashmere coat, a considerable investment for anyone back then, let alone a student. (Some months later, he would end up coming down with tuberculosis as a result of having been exposed to those bone-chilling winds.) Still, there was a deeply important method to his madness. At a time when racial discrimination was rampant, and young, African students like him seeking private housing in London were routinely turned away based on the color of their skin, clothing was a vital tool in navigating these hostile new surroundings. In dressing to look and feel like a prince, he wielded black excellence like a suit of armor. The politics of his fashion choices were just as carefully considered. When I asked him why he stopped wearing denim—nary a pair of jeans a denim shirt or jacket even—my dad, a life-long socialist, explained that in his mind, jeans were a sign of American imperialism.

As a child, I only ever remember my dad wearing suits—usually single-breasted in gray or navy—though he wore them without a tie when he wasn’t working his government job on the weekend. While he couldn’t afford anything tailor-made, he did take pains to snag the best off-the-peg alternatives, trawling the January sales along Oxford Street for Italian tailoring. Even though he favored quality over quantity, his suits and button-down shirts still occupied the biggest closet in our modest three-bedroom apartment, even when there were eight or nine of us living there—cousins, aunties, uncles, and other extended family from Nigeria. Never one to throw anything away, my dad kept his clothes for years and years, even when they were worn to shreds, something I know that still drives my mother up the wall. It was, however, a boon to me as a teenager to discover this Narnia of vintage men’s fashion in my own home: weather-worn leather jackets and fraying indigo-dyed dashikis that I still wear to this day. Where my mother’s fantastic ’60s minidresses were always too short in the leg and or too generous in the bust, his slimly-cut menswear fit me like a glove.

My father was pretty encouraging when I started experimenting with style as a teenager. Unlike my mother, he turned a blind eye when I’d come home each Saturday laden with shopping bags, having blown my entire paycheck from a gig at a local sandwich shop. Still, some of my early fashion choices did bother him. When I came home one day wearing what I thought was an amazing ’40s crombie coat found at the second-hand store by my high school, he was mortified. “Why on earth would you want to wear dead people’s clothes?” he said, aghast. In his culture, ancestral spirits were always among us, not relegated to some distant afterlife. He was also somewhat crestfallen when, after scoring straight As, I decided to pursue my dream of becoming a fashion journalist and not the career in medicine he had hoped for.

These days I think (I hope!) my dad is pretty proud of the path I have chosen, though the ins and outs of what I do are for sure still a mystery to him. Shortly after I landed my job as a fashion writer at this magazine nine years ago, he called to congratulate me. “I hear you work for someone important called Amy Wintour,” he said proudly, having consulted one of his old college buddies, a retired journalist. I didn’t have the heart to correct him. To be honest I was secretly relieved that he didn’t have the faintest clue about the fashion world.

That said, my dad's no stranger to the subtle language of style, particularly when it comes to West Africa. A few years ago, at the wedding of a family friend in eastern Nigeria, he took pride in pointing out the signifiers of traditional Igbo dress, including the distinctive ozo red cap, worn by chiefs as a symbol of authority: the taller the crown, the higher the wearer’s social standing. To satisfy my obsession with artisanal textiles, he took me to a tiny village where the traditional handwoven fabric known as akwete is still produced, a three-hour drive from my father’s village. We watched enrapt as craftswomen worked their magic on centuries-old wooden looms.

These days, my dad no longer wears his fancy Cuban heels. The knee replacement surgery he had a few years prior has made him learn to love a wardrobe of comfy sneakers. Last year, for his 75th birthday, I flew to London from New York to surprise him. “Is it really you? Or a dream?” he said through tears, when I showed up on his doorstep at midnight. I knew he’d be thrilled to see me, but I hadn’t quite anticipated this moment of tenderness. It was as if the emotions he’d kept under lock and key as a young man, were all rising to the surface.

The next day, we went for lunch, then shopping for birthday sneakers. He didn’t need much help picking out exactly the right ones. The moment we hit the shoe department at John Lewis he zeroed in on a pair of minimalist running shoes he’d been eyeing for weeks, just like I had all those years ago.

A few months later, he sent me an excited WhatsApp message out of the blue. He’d unearthed a picture of himself as a teenager from a stash that was retrieved after the war. In the photo, he’s looking especially dapper, dressed in a crisp white shirt and the kind of high-waisted pants I would kill to get my hands on now. The family resemblance was unmistakable, too—in the sidewise grin, the slightly awkward stance. But more than that, I could see myself in the soft pleats of his trousers, the tie knotted just so. When I posted the image to Instagram the next day, my phone was ablaze with likes. “Wow, Chioma! This is you in drag,” read one of many comments from friends and family. The truth is they all knew what I’d temporarily forgotten—that I am my father’s daughter through and through.


SOURCE: VOGUE

Saturday, May 11, 2019

As A Doctor, I Greet A Mother's Fear With Compassion — Even Her Fear Of Vaccines

Nwando Anyaoku. Image: Crosscut


BY NWANDO ANYAOKU

SEATTLE, WASHINGTON (CROSSCUT)
-- With Mother’s Day upon us, I have been reflecting on the power of a mother’s love and the impact that power has when harnessed and deployed in service of her child.

I bring to this space of contemplation the full scope of my life experience. I am a Black woman, and I am a physician. I was born and raised in Nigeria, where I attended medical school. I received my post-graduate education in the United States. I have practiced medicine in Nigeria, in Trinidad and Tobago, in rural Jamaica and Guyana, and in the American inner city, the Midwest and the well-heeled parts of the United States. I am a mother, a Black mother of two young black men who are growing up in the U.S. Though my boys are bigger than me and pretty much anyone around, I would still fight to the death to protect them.

I have seen and experienced through my journey what it means to feel unheard, invisible, undervalued. I know what it means to be desperate to be able to provide for, properly care for, or protect your child. And through it all, what it looks like to channel grit and resilience and fierce resourcefulness in the quest to do what is needed to survive, to thrive and to make sure your child achieves their full destiny.

In my tenure as a physician, I have seen mothers go to great lengths to protect their children. I once met a mother whose child had Lennox-Gastaut syndrome — a terrible disease that caused her child to experience seizures every few minutes — carry her little one on her back and travel all over the world in search of a cure, losing everything else in her life in the process, including her marriage. Another mother, who had triplets born too soon, literally went on her knees and wiped down the entire hospital room with tiny alcohol square pads. Why? One of her triplets was admitted with RSV bronchiolitis, a condition that is particularly dangerous in preemies and multiple births; she was terrified that the infection would be transmitted to the other two. In Nigeria, I saw poor mothers who walked several miles in the heat to get vaccines to protect their babies. They had seen some of those vaccine-preventable diseases take lives right in their villages.

I recognize the same ferocity today in mother’s who refuse vaccines for their babies. In light of the current resurgence of vaccine-preventable diseases, there is an understandable amount of irritation and animus against these mothers. However, in my passionately pro-vaccine pediatric practice, I focus on compassion in my approach to this conversation. I understand what it means to be desperately in love with this little human who has been trusted into your care and want to do everything in your power to protect your baby.

First and foremost, I honor the mother’s intent. I acknowledge her intent to be a good mother and steward of her child’s health. Then I provide her the education and tools she needs to make a different decision. I give her materials to read, reputable websites she can use as resources. I make myself and my team available to answer any and all questions she may have. I repeat this process every chance I get. I understand the motive behind her hesitancy. It is born out of love for her baby and fear of doing anything that she feels may bring harm, all the more so by her own hand. That instinct is the same whether she’s trying to protect her child from injury, disability or death.

I see that same love and fear in her eyes when the same mother comes running to the office with the same baby because she’s heard of the measles epidemic and she wants her baby immunized. I have found it critical in my work to recognize that both actions emerge from the unique and fierce love of a mother for her child. Certainly, this approach does not always work, but it is a philosophy that more readily opens the door for a conversation of mutual respect and understanding.

I often tease my patients by saying that so much of motherhood is about pain and guilt — what did I do, what did I not do. No woman that I know has ever been discouraged from mothering her child in the way she wants by being told that she is being unreasonable. Indeed, that is part of the deal. My approach as a clinician, or as a friend or sister, is to partner with her in her journey, allay her fears as best I can, answer her questions and give her the best tools to accomplish her mission to be the best possible mother to her child.

As we celebrate mothers this weekend, let us harness the power of their love in our quest to improve the health and well-being of all children.

Monday, May 06, 2019

First African American Surgeon On Faculty At Duke Remembered For His Kindness And Leadership

Onyekwere E. Akwari. Image via Duke University Dept. of Surgery.


Onyekwere (Onye) E. Akwari, the first African American faculty member in the Duke department of surgery, died April 14 at the age of 76.

Recruited to Duke close to a decade after the hospital had desegregated, Akwari became the second African American faculty member on tenure track at the School of Medicine. His work inspired many, as he formed close relationships with his students and lab researchers and had more than 150 published papers and book chapters.

Allan Kirk, David C. Sabiston, Jr. professor and chair of the department of surgery, wrote in an email about how Akwari was “a pioneer in many regards.” Kirk detailed that he will “sorely miss” him and described how he studied with Akwari when he was a medical student and surgery resident in the School of Medicine.

“In addition to his professional achievements, Onye was one of the kindest gentlemen one could ever meet,” Kirk wrote. “He was always willing to help students, colleagues, and especially patients, regardless of the time of day or day of week.”

Born in Aba, Nigeria, Akwari was the oldest of the eight children in his family. His father owned an export-import business and his mother worked as a shopkeeper.

Nigeria’s civil war, which endured from 1967 to 1970, significantly affected the Akwari family. The family house and business were demolished because of the war.

Martin Adson, a surgeon and mentor to Akwari, loaned money to place a new roof on his family’s house. Akwari—working as a trainee in America at the time—repaid the loan and supported six of his siblings in pursuing their education in the United States.

After immigrating to the United States in 1962, Akwari graduated from the University of Washington in 1966. There, he was a varsity track and field athlete and soccer player while playing an active role in the student government. Akwari also won the Honorary Citizen of the City award for his work in the Seattle community.

He subsequently studied medicine at the University of Southern California School of Medicine and served as the student body president. After graduation, he entered the general surgery training program and pursued research interests at the Mayo Clinic.

Akwari was recruited in 1978 as an associate professor to Duke by David C. Sabiston Jr., James B. Duke professor and then-chair of the department of surgery.

At the time Akwari joined as a tenure-track professor, there were only two other African American professors on faculty at the entire School of Medicine.

“In addition to leading the integration of the surgical faculty at Duke, he formed the first national organization dedicated to black academic surgeons (the Society for Black Academic Surgeons), which has grown into the most important national advocacy and support organization for under-represented minorities in surgery,” Kirk wrote. “Through his efforts, thousands of people have been given an aspirational roadmap to a career in academic surgery.”

In October 1987, Akwari, Arthur Fleming, Claude Organ, Eddie Hoover and Steve Aichele met in New Orleans to discuss African American surgeons in academic surgery.

This inaugural meeting led to the founding of The Society of Black Academic Surgeons (SBAS).

“It was abundantly clear that few blacks were involved in academic surgery, there was no organized network of African-American academic surgeons, few young surgeons [pursuing] academic careers received tenure, and graduates from surgery residency programs other than Meharry or Howard could not easily identify African-American surgeons role models to inspire them to pursue academic careers,” the SBAS website reads.

The first official meeting of SBAS was at the Duke University Medical Center and Washington Duke Inn in 1989.

Organized to “assemble as many African-American surgeons as possible to discuss the essentials of building academic careers,” Akwari was the local arrangements chairman and Sabiston, who recruited Akwari to Duke, was the host.

“The meeting organizers were proud to acknowledge that every prominent individual asked to attend this seminar agreed to participate without hesitation,” the SBAS website reads. “The meeting included seminars on funding academic productivity and promotion.”

At the third SBAS meeting in 1993, Akwari—the outgoing SBAS president at the time—was awarded the official SBAS medal for his “distinguished service” to the Society.

Before an illness in 1995, Akwari spent 17 years as an active faculty member at the School of Medicine. His laboratory research focused on gastrointestinal motility, and he provided mentorship for pre-medical and medical students, physician assistants and trainees.

Akwari also held national positions in surgery, such as chair of the surgical section and executive committee member of the National Medical Association.

At Duke, Akwari was a member of many committees, such as the curriculum committee of the School of Medicine. He spent 15 years on the School of Medicine admissions committee and 12 years on the University’s Academic Council.

“He felt privileged that during his tenure on Duke’s Academic Council (1981-1993), the faculty voted to broaden Duke’s faculty tuition benefit program to include the children of staff, a signal commitment of the university to the academic mission of generational improvement,” his obituary reads.

As a member of Duke’s athletic council, he knew the coaches of women’s and men’s basketball, football and wrestling and was very involved with athletes interested in medicine.

“He was keenly interested in facilitating the studies of Division I athletes who aspired to medical careers,” the obituary reads. “He opened his home to all, most importantly to students, and he hosted gatherings for other ‘first’ African Americans at Duke.”

In 1987, Akwari won the Golden Apple Award for his teaching and leadership and received the University Scholar/Teacher of the Year award from the University.

On February 19, 2019, the Samuel DuBois Cook Society presented the Raymond Gavins Distinguished Faculty Award to Akwari at its annual dinner. The Society’s mission is “to recognize, celebrate, and affirm the presence of African-American students, faculty, and staff at Duke University.” Akwari was a founding member of the society.

He is survived by his wife Anne Micheaux Akwari, assistant consulting professor of community and family medicine at the School of Medicine, two children, three grandchildren and six siblings.

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