Seyi Adisa: God’s Plan

I was age 13 when – for the first time – I really thought about my future. What spurred the thinking? I was moving from JS3 to SS1 and I had to decide whether it would be the Science class or the Arts/Commercial class. My big sister was (and still is) a medical doctor and she was one of my role models at the time so I also wanted to be a doctor until the day I saw someone bleeding profusely and I couldn’t stand the sight of the blood. Medicine was out, what was next to medicine? Pharmacy, I mulled over it but there was a problem – I didn’t like the smell of drugs. In the end, I struck pharmacy out too.

 

I remember praying to God that I did not want to make a wrong move in life and it was in that moment that I got a strange inkling that I was going to be in government. It came as a random thought and it left me wondering – ‘who is government?’ ‘What do they do there?’ It had been a random thought but it was strong enough to make me choose the Arts class. I remember my mom expressing her reservation about my choice: “you’re brilliant, Seyi, you should be in the science class,” she’d said. When I insisted on the Arts, she asked me to convince her on my choice.

 

It was then that I got curious about the people in government across the world whose names resounded with me. I wanted to know more about them and as I dug, I saw an emerging pattern – many of the heavyweight people in government who made giant strides studied law – Obafemi Awolowo, Bola Ige, Abraham Lincoln, Bill Clinton. I went back to my mom and said:

“Mommy, I want to be a lawyer.”

“Ehn-ehn, good! Lawyer naa da – being a lawyer is good.” She replied.

 

After secondary school at King’s College Lagos, I went for my A-levels at Lambeth College in the UK. For my A-levels, I chose law. I made enquiries and I realized I could choose Politics alongside, so I did. I studied British politics and I also studied business. All that was me following the little spark in my heart. I had no blueprint or a clue of how I’d actualize the dream, I was just taking the steps as they seemed right to me at the time.

 

Going to the University of Birmingham to study law from Lambeth, I had to choose a branch of law – I knew there was constitutional law, human rights law and all that. I had conversations in my head. “Seyi, you will need money if you want to do politics in Nigeria,” I thought to myself, “you will need to make money first so find which law will give you plenty money.” I concluded that with a good Commercial law practice I could make money in the UK so I specialized in Commercial law.

 

I mapped out my plan: study commercial law, ignore the barrister-line of law practice and focus on being an excellent Commercial solicitor in the UK; work and earn money till my 40s then return to Nigeria and get into politics. I had done a mental calculation of how much I’d have saved by the time I was in my 40s and so I was convinced that money wouldn’t be a problem. I graduated from Birmingham as one of the few students with a Second-Class Upper degree and immediately after, one of the top 10 law firms in the UK offered me a job. That, in itself, was a big deal.

 

The way things work in the UK is this, law practice is divided into two – solicitorship and litigation/advocacy and, unlike in Nigeria, these two aspects of law practice did not mix. You were either one or the other. If you were going down the solicitor route, you’d have got at least a two-year working contract before you go to the law school. That meant that if you were going to law school in 2007, you must have secured a job in 2005. The law firm I had signed a contract with wanted us to go to College of Law or BPP, these were the two topmost law schools in the UK. I chose the BPP and when I was done, I graduated with a distinction.

 

Everything was going as planned and I was certain nothing could stop the dream – I had no idea that the valley season of my life was just about to begin.

 

 

“A few days before I began, the law firm refused to apply for my work visa, that terminated my contract and left me hanging. For two years, I had held on to the dream that I was going to be a top solicitor in the UK and suddenly, it was floundering.
My friends in the UK would reach out to know what the ‘brilliant black guy’ was up to and I was always so ashamed to tell them my ordeal. In the end, I just had to face the hard, cold truth that the solicitorship plan in the UK wasn’t going to happen anymore.
It is often said that in adversity you apply yourself more than in the comforting moments. Realizing what my reality was, I asked myself hard questions: “Seyi, what else can you do? What do you like? What is that thing you can do with all joy that wouldn’t feel like work?”
There was only one answer to all these questions: “Football!!” I had a great passion for football, I decided to get entrepreneurial along that line. I created a platform that curated Nigeria football content and I called it seven-eleven(dot)com. It was supposed to be like goal(dot)com for Nigeria.
Again, I did my research and had things figured out everything. Knowing that my return to Nigeria was imminent, I decided that whatever I would create would be Nigerian content for Nigerians. I even put Fantasy football on the platform at the time, this was as far back as 2007/2008. By the first half of the year 2008, I was travelling all over different cities in England meeting people and signing deals.
I returned to Nigeria on 1st June 2008. My father was of the opinion that I should go back to law school in Nigeria and focus on law practice here. For me, I had returned home with a different plan – to build my football business; and I was super-pumped and ready to break into the market with my top-class product.
Then I started moving around – I went to SuperSport and HiTv offices and pitched my business to them but they didn’t buy into it. I spent all the money I had saved on giving the business a footing in Nigeria but then, things were just not looking up. I had left the UK because of the huge disappointment I had faced and now that I was back in Nigeria I was struggling to get my business to fly.
One company saw what we were trying to do and was willing to come on board but they were offering to hold a ninety per cent stake in the business and that just wasn’t cool for me.
Looking back now, it was like I brought a product that was way before its time. The internet structure in Nigeria in 2008 wasn’t a robust as it is now. Today, you have Guinness Football Manager but this was something that some of us had created before they even dreamt of launching the product.
When the whole business thing did not fly, my father called me again and advised me to go for my NYSC program rather than just sitting at home and pushing an idea that couldn’t be banked on at the time. This time, I agreed with him and went for my youth service corps program.
I was posted to a law firm but with all the setbacks I had faced trying to get into law practice in the UK, I concluded that God did not want me to practice law and so I struck law off my list. At that point I just wanted to make money – I had tried law and business, they didn’t work; my new focus became working in a bank with an international presence and appeal. My posting finally came out and it was to a law firm.
I greeted the man I met at the firm I had been posted to. With my poker-face, I demanded: “Give me a rejection letter, sir.” He was reluctant to meet my demand but I insisted. Then he asked me, “young man, why are you so bitter?” At that point, I had begun to lose my patience. “It is none of your business sir, just reject me and let me be on my way,” I replied.
Then the man advised, “son, you’re not even a lawyer in Nigeria – you haven’t passed the Nigerian bar yet. Go to the law school and get called to the bar before you conclude that you don’t want to practice.” He gave me the rejection letter after those words and I left.
For me, my new focus was banking and I wanted a bank with an international vibe to it. I wrote all the tests for an international bank in Lagos and I passed. I was on my way to submit my acceptance letter at the NYSC office when something I did not expect happened…”
“I was on my way to submit my acceptance letter at the NYSC office when an old classmate called me, “Seyi, can you come over to my law firm – I told my bosses about you and they’d love to meet you?” I did not show any enthusiasm but my friend kept hammering on it so I told him I’d branch by the firm, after all, it was on my way to the NYSC secretariat.
I dropped by and when I saw the structure, it did not look like the typical Nigerian law firm I had known in the past. It looked like the firms I had seen in London; I was very impressed. The name of the firm was Adepetun, Caxton-Martins, Agbor & Segun (ACAS). When I entered, I met my friend’s boss and, instantly, I was interviewed. Within a few days, I was handed a letter to come serve at the law firm. I was, all of a sudden, holding two acceptance letters in my hands – one from the International bank and the other from this top law firm.
The dilemma then was, which letter will I submit?
I submitted the letter from the firm at the NYSC office. What changed – why did I switch from banking back to law? At the moment of submission, I realized that, really, I never gave up on my dream of practising law, I was just very angry that the route I had hoped for didn’t pan out. I went to the Nigerian law school after I completed my NYSC at ACAS and I got called to the Nigeria bar. Once I was called to the bar, I opened my own law firm. It was while I was serving that I met my co-partner with whom we floated the law firm together. This was in 2010.
I was back in law practice but the knowing that I would be in government had not withered away. As my relationship with my long-term girlfriend grew more serious and we were considering marriage, I told my fiancée: “full disclosure, you’re not getting married to just a lawyer, you’re getting married to a government official at some point in this journey.” I also told her then, “I don’t know when it will be but I know this is what God will have me do and it will not be fair of me to spring it up on you after we have got married.” She agreed that she was fine with it and in July of 2011, we got married.
A month after my wedding, I received a phone call from someone I had gone to the law school with in England.
“Seyi, what state are you from?”
“Oyo State,” I answered.
Then she replied: “I will call you back.”
Unknown to me this person was close to the Ajimobi family and when she heard that the governor needed a Principal Private Secretary with preference for someone with a legal background, I crossed her mind and she reached out to me.
When the phone call regarding the job came, dreams that had lay in wait came to the surface again. In fact, I didn’t think twice when the call came. My answer was a sharp yes! The only thing was that – at the time – I had never seen anyone less than 50 years old in politics. I was 27 years old when the call came and I suddenly felt that, maybe I was too young to be within the political space.
My wife and I were both convinced that that was the door to the plan that God had laid out for us so there was no hesitation at all when the call came. My CV got to the governor and he instructed that I came to Ibadan. When I got to his office, he said he didn’t have the time to interview me and that I should go to KPMG office to be interviewed.
I went to the KPMG office and I was interviewed for about two hours. The company wrote a report for the governor that, they had found me capable to handle the tasks of the office and had recommended me for the job. Somehow, that report never got to the governor’s desk. They’d sent it a few times and every time, the governor just never got it.
One day, the governor said to his team, “where is that boy that I said he should go to KPMG for an interview?” Immediately, they called me and I narrated to them that I had gone to KPMG and that I had also been waiting to hear from the governor. It was then that the governor instructed KPMG to address and send the report to him directly and not to his Office.
He called me to come in on October 5, 2011, read the report and called for the Head of Service. “KPMG has assessed this young man and they believe he is competent and capable to be my Private Secretary. Go and give him his letter,” the governor said and that was my entry point into politics/governance.”
THE AJIMOBI ERA (2011-2019)
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My role was Principal Private Secretary (PPS) and that’s Special Adviser-cadre. In the UK, the PPS is the most senior civil servant in the Prime Minister’s office. My office was a stand-alone, it wasn’t even a part of the organogram. It was huge role because I was in charge of everything that concerned the Governor – his correspondences, his appointments, tracking his activities, liaising with protocol, liaising with his security detail. My work was really everything that had to do with him. I sat in State Executive Council meetings – just like Commissioners and Special Advisers sat in those meetings. I was about 27 years old when I had all these responsibilities saddled on me.
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At the beginning, I struggled with my role – things were really clumsy. My idea of being a secretary was to be at my desk, wait for my principal to get in and then, together, we’d map out his itinerary and schedule. With Gov. Ajimobi things were different. I could be sitting at my desk, having planned his schedule in my head; I could just get a call that His Excellency had headed to some part in town, straight from home.; it took a while to adapt.
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One of the things an aide must have is the patience to learn how to manage the personality of their principal. I got that perfectly and I rose to the occasion. I learnt to communicate very timeously and purposefully. If I had to say ten sentences to him, they had to be purposeful –communicating something of importance. You couldn’t appear before him and be saying things like: “Oga, how was your night?” If you did, he’d tell you: “ehn-ehn, what is your business with my night? If my night wasn’t good what do you want to do about it?” He always wanted you to lead him straight into his day or reason why you had come before him. No rigmarole.
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When I first started, I used to wear suit and tie and people used look at me around the Secretariat like ‘ta leleyii – who is this guy moving up and down in suit?’ Bear in mind, the ages of people working in the Governor’s Office at the time were between the 40s and 50s then there was me, 27 years old. One thing the governor did was that he made it known and he showed it that even though I was young, I was worth my salt.
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To get him to sit down to sign files, reply correspondences was work. Even to sign even his own personal documents was a struggle. I then began to learn to reinvent and improvise. I knew the maximum time I could get him to sit down and get things done so I had to choose my words carefully and make them effectual in order to achieve the things I needed to achieve within that short time that he’d be able to see me regarding secretarial matters. Throughout that first year on the job, my relationship with him was very official – I never went to government house unless what needed to get done was something so urgent that warranted me showing up at his house.
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By the end of my first year on the job, there had been a rhythm but things were still very official. From 2013 and as we approached 2014, he began to demand more from my roles. He began to say things like, “you go should go home with me” or “you should be around on weekends” – it was like I had been tested and had passed Stage One test and now I was moving on to Stage Two. He opened up his home to me and gave me access without me requesting it. On a Friday, he could be like, “you mean I won’t see you until Monday? No-No-No! come to the house on Saturday!” That was how I moved from just being office-office to being around the home.
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By 2014, things changed – my responsibilities got huger; at that time, we were fully in pre-election mode. He mandated me to also come along every where he went. We would go all over and whenever we returned, I came back to the files sitting on my desk requiring my attention. A key part of my job then was gathering all the available information on issues and portfolios, then distilling the available information into concise for His Excellency. So, you can imagine the stress.
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There were times we’d go around together, then as we return to the office, his first question to me is: “Seyi, who are the visitors I had today?” Meanwhile, me, I’d be wondering like, Your Excellency, sheybi we all just came back together now-now – how could I have known your visitors?” Again, these were things I had to learn to handle very quickly. Ajimobi knew his stuff, he knew what he wanted to achieve and so if you came before the governor unprepared, he’d let you know that what you have brought is nonsense so you have to be excellent and on your toes.

By the time we got to 2015, the elections were over and he had been re-elected, everyone left on May 28. I resumed work immediately after the Swearing-In ceremony on May 29; I never left. By that time, I had become an integral part of the late governor’s work life.

 

By 2016, I could predict the governor so well – I could tell when he’d crack a joke or how he’d react to diverse incidents. Commissioners would bring files to me and ask for my honest opinions and I could categorically tell them that ‘Oga will query A-B-C.’ When they come out of his office, they’d say he queried exactly A-B-C.

 

I remember he would close from work and we’d drive round the city inspecting projects. During the rides, he would tell me very personal desires he had for the State. Even when we travelled out of the country and we saw “some impressive things, he’d say to me: “Seyi, why can’t Oyo State be like this? Why?!”

 

One part of the late governor that many never saw was the soft side of him. If you got close to him, you could see his soft side. Ajimobi was a great family man. He prioritized his family and he shed his skin so easily – at the office, he was governor and at home, he was a daddy. In the public glare, he wanted to be known to be strong and courageous.

 

There were times when I was with him in his house the night before and we’d talked and cracked jokes like father-son; and by morning when we are at work, he was in work mode with his face straightened up and his tone very official. I’d then begin to wonder if it was a different person I had spent the last evening with. He was a total choleric, straight-to-the-point man. These were some of things many people couldn’t fathom or even bear.

 

From the time I got into the political space in 2011, I made it a point of duty to always associate with my own. I am from Awe, a part of the nine communities/towns that form the AFIJIO constituency. They are Awe, Akinmorin, Fiditi, Ilora, Imini, Jobele, Iware, Ilu-Aje, Oluwatedo. My dad is a Chief in Awe and all through my primary school we used to go home to Awe for Christmas. By the time I got to secondary school, we really didn’t go home anymore unless there was a special occasion. Growing up, my dad used to tell us a lot of things about Awe. He’d tell us about Awe Football Club, Awe High School and things like that. That way, we were never out of tune with our roots.

 

Every time someone came from AFIJIO to see my principal, I always related with them. I made acquaintances with the members of the House of Assembly representing AFIJIO in the 2011-2015 era and in the 2015-2019 era. Also, I went home to speak at functions, encouraging the youths to get involved in politics and governance. You can say I came from being not-connected to my roots to being intentional about connecting with my root. In 2015, I bought a bus for the youths. At that time, everyone called me ‘barrister’. Thoughts began to cross my mind like, ‘Seyi, can you run for office – will you run for office?’ I got more involved politically. By the next year, people began to tell me that ‘barrister, you must run’ and I’d reply and say, ‘well, time would tell.’

 

By 2018, I prayed and was more certain that I was going to run for office and so I began to go home at least twice a month for familiarization, get-to-know-me purposes. I had meetings with the tailors, hairdressers, farmers – every class of people that I could reach; the idea was to make myself visible to them and to hear what they truly really desire from government. By the time I was done with this process, I had become fully certain that I would run, I had got the clearance from God that I should do this.

 

Right after getting God’s approval, next thing was informing my boss and getting his blessings. When I told him, he did not discourage me in any way. He only asked me:

“are you sure – this really sounds weird, you know?”

I told him affirmatively I was sure and the next thing he said was, “I’ll support you.”

As we approached 2019, he expected me to still show up. The elections into the State Houses of Assembly was originally for February before it was moved to March, 2019. I’d go for my campaigns and community outreaches and, even though I had resigned, I still reported back to the Governor’s Office till December 2018.”

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For seven and a half years, I was working with an embodiment of success (private and public sector); and that opportunity to work so closely with a phenomenal success was an experience that very few people get to have. Even when he left office in 2019, I saw him every week he was in Ibadan till he passed on. That was the journey of my relationship with the great man.
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Once I got approval from God and support from my boss, I launched out fully. Having walked and worked closely with Ajimobi for over seven years, I had seen a great deal of the gimmicks, the betrayals, and the different ploys. It was a golden opportunity for me to learn how to navigate the political terrain and galvanize people. Most of all, I had seen the gaps that existed in representation first hand.
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Two years in office – going into the third – how has it been? It has been different. I went from having a front row seat in the Executive to being member of the opposition in the Legislature and a back-bencher. That is quite a broad spectrum of political experience. I have raced through that band of spectrum and I have adapted. We may not have a front row seat but, at least, we have a seat 😁.
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The legislature shows the power of democracy. We are the closest arm of government to the people; and as a whole, Oyo State as big as it is, has thirty-two people speaking for it every day on the floor. The Legislature is not like the Executive – here we do a lot more talking but I love the ‘doing’ part, I think.
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I have a working relationship with my colleagues irrespective of our political affiliations. I don’t have cliques – I work with everybody. I bring my diverse experience to bear when I’m called upon and, in committee meetings, I try to make the most of my colleagues. The Speaker, being a young person, we have a good relationship. When we are here in this complex, I try to take away politics and focus on what truly matters – development of the people. And when I see something differently, I’d still say even if the majority will still hold the sway.
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My approach to executing my work has been influenced by my exposure and my kind of exposure wasn’t the kind that merely came from just traveling out of the country – it was the kind that came from experiencing governance in a different clime. While in England, I had had dealings with the MPs (Member of Parliament) and so I knew how they worked.
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In England, MPs had “surgery days” – days when they go to their constituencies and relate with the people one-on-one. Constituents are encouraged to write to their MPs and on Surgery Days the MPs address those letters personally or held appointments with the people.
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Like the saying goes, you are a sum total of all your experiences. I borrowed a play from their book too and so I am not far from my constituents – I go home once a week to be with them and see how things are faring first-hand. I encourage my people to write to me and tell me what their needs are and I try to reply all of the letters that come in.
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I think the key motivator for me is the understanding that this position that I am in is a very temporary one so getting into office, I knew I had to have my mission which would serve as a compass that would guide my activities while in office. I had recognized, from all my outreaches pre-election, that the biggest challenge my constituents faced was unemployment and so early on, I defined what problem I will attempt to address in my tenure at the House. That is why a lot of my policies, motions, bills and everything else I do in the House are centred around solving unemployment and development of people.
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I recognize that four years is a short time and I need to make the most of it. Currently, I have submitted at least twelve motions on the floor, some have been read, others haven’t yet. I have a bill waiting for the governor’s assent. All of these are centred around developing people and communities. Once we can curb unemployment, a lot of things will be dealt with by consequence and I hope to continue to do that till the tenure expires in 2023.
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My team and I came up with three ways to deal with unemployment in my constituency – first, vocational skills acquisition; second, digital-ICT skills and; third, sports development. That has been my approach to stemming the tides of unemployment.
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There were too many young people in my constituency who were idle but excellent at sports. Every day, I pondered over what to do to keep them engaged; then I came up with the idea of the Sports Centre. As lovely and practical as it was there wasn’t a government funding for it and I couldn’t take it on all by myself. My role as a legislator is to make laws, perform oversight functions and to represent my constituents. Delving into projects isn’t one of my core functions.
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If projects aren’t the core of a legislator’s assignment, then the question is – why did I nurse the idea of a Sport Centre? It is because I value my people. As long as you have the heart for your people, you will pray and take that first step and then God will connect you with resources. If after working under a man like Ajimobi, I am still sitting on my hands and hiding behind lack of funds, then it means that I did not learn anything while with him.
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I had to raise money from family and friends and then, someone recommended me to an organization in Canada and when we made the pitch, they loved it. They offered to support the project as an empowerment project. On 7th November 2021 we commissioned the sports facility which caters for football, basketball, volleyball with a table tennis corner.
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When you love people enough to add value to them, you just keep taking steps. As you take steps, people will see what you’re doing and the support will come – that was how the Coca-Cola/IBM partnership came through. I love ICT because it is digital skills and the world is going digital. Someone (Campus Labs) who saw what we were doing reached out and asked if they could partner with us and of course, it was a resounding yes! As we speak, Coca-Cola and IBM are partnering with us to train 60 people in digital skills and my Constituency Office is where it is taking place. The target is to ensure it is a continuous process.
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From 2021, we secured 4 fully supported projects for 2022 already. A partner for one of our projects in 2022 is based in Australia. The person found me on LinkedIn and was impressed by our track record. The next thing was the question: “what do you want to do next?” I quickly replied, “A coding program for young girls”. We put it together under Girl-Child Education and the person was so excited about the idea. By February, the program is starting out. What I want people to see in these examples is that making an impact starts with love and it is only until you have that heart that you can get things done.
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If you don’t have the heart, you will see opportunities and you wouldn’t even know because the opportunities come in form of people’s problems. When you don’t love the people and they bring a problem to you, that’s when you say things like “ehn-ehn! It is not my job na, kini won fe kin se?!” or “is it me that will feed them – it is not my business o!” and things like that.
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True, it is not your business as a legislator to feed them but these people do not understand all of that dichotomy of responsibilities. You that you’re in that position, it is up to you to say: “you know what, forget titles; forget whose job is what; can I make a difference?” Until you get into the mindset, impact will be far from you.
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Changing people doesn’t happen overnight – it is a consistent process. It starts from your values and your values will shape the way you think. How you think becomes how you act and then how you act over time becomes your habit. John Maxwell has a program called ILEAD with 16 values that shape and influences leaders and so we decided to take this John Maxwell Leadership Training Program into our public secondary school. We picked prefects from public secondary schools in the constituency and try to facilitate this ILEAD program with them in order to sharpen their leadership skills based on these values.
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We do this with the hope that they, in turn, would transfer these values to their mates, juniors and other young people around them. We are not just training them and abandoning them – we have their database and we are going to be following up on them. Whether I am in office or not, I am committed to this and I will keep doing it.
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CONCLUSION
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The question is, why am I even bothering myself with this project, after all, nobody will see the visible impact of the project in the immediate? Those are 333 lives that we are trying to mould aright; there are no ribbons to cut for people to see and hail us but if the program can transform 200 of them completely then I have done a great job.
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Who knows – five years from now, it might be that training that will make them forge ahead, go to universities and make something of themselves instead of falling into the out-of-school statistics. Politics has surely given me a big platform and ability to leverage more; but a project like this is something I’d do – politics or not – because it is about developing minds.
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Have there been days when I get tired and I just want to give up? Sure! Every day! 😁 You know, I make a lot of sacrifices to get things done and still some people never appreciate it. When we did the football pitch in AFIJIO, for example, I still heard some people say: ‘is this what he should be doing?’ ‘Is this what he should be spending our money on?’
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In those moments I want to jump and ask ‘whose money? Do you have any idea how the money came about?’ but then again, when I see people playing on the pitch and are happy to have something of that standard that they can call their own, it makes it worthwhile for me.
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You will think with all these things that we are doing people will be appreciative – no! When you ask them why they are against this man, they can’t point to anything. One thing you have to know is that it’s okay for some people to not just like you and you have to get used to it. It is life. I have given you my money, my time, my sleepless night and yet you’re fighting me. Oya, what more do you want me to do?
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For me, the trick to dealing with this is to not stay with all the negative vibes for long – you need to go through the motion very quickly and move on. One of the things I console myself with is that as good and loving and caring God is, He still has critics and enemies.
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We are planning for 2022 already and sometimes I just be like, ‘Seyi, why do you bother to do these things?’ Then, in that instant too, I tell myself that because what I have set out to do is the right thing and I will keep doing it, regardless of the discouragements.
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As a young person who has been in power since age 27 up until now that I am 38 years, I have realized that dealing with older people requires a lot more emotional intelligence than academic intelligence. Politicians and people who have been successful in life tend to have fragile egos – at their core is a sense of ‘do you know who I am?’ When you deal with such people, you stoop to conquer, yet never lose sight of the prize.
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Leadership is never between you and the people; leadership is between you and God. I am not leading for the applause or the cheers; I am leading because this is what I am supposed to be doing. When my task here on earth is done, God will ask me and say I gave you this and that – what did you do with them? That is more important to me than bothering about who thinks we are not doing the right things.
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[ THE END]
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