The triumph of the water lily
Four Norman Searches for a Place in my Life
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Norman Searches for a Place in my Life I walked briskly into the lecture theatre of the FRCN training school. I was so glad it was Friday and that this was my last lecture for the week. "Waooh!" What a hectic period the last two weeks had been. I could certainly do with some rest I thought. I however pushed all thoughts of rest to the back of my mind as I strode into the class. A hushed silence fell on the assembly as I walked in. I knew the students looked forward to my lectures, not so much for what I had to say to them, but for the fact that they were often eager - or should I say curious to see what clothes I had on. I couldn't say for the life of me why my dressing held so much appeal for them; but it certainly was good to be appreciated! I basically had a simple taste when it came to dressing. I also didn't believe in wearing anything bizzare at work. I however knew I had the good fortune of looking good in practically anything I wore. My full- grown Afro hair-do, which I had acquired way back in the United States held a certain appeal for most men. I groomed it regularly and found it a rather convenient hair style. Yele told me it gave me "A temptingly exciting look!" It was good to be considered 'tempting', 'exciting', or attractive, but I also recognised the need to match such supposed good looks with a sound intellectual mind. Most of that week had gone off very well. I had prepared my lectures with great care and the students had responded with equal enthusiasm and heated debates. I encouraged them to talk. I wanted them to put forward arguments, which were sound and original to them. I was often acting the devils advocate on topical issues, which I thought would receive stereotypical responses or arguments from them. I goaded them into thinking, and then coming up with original arguments for or against issues they had hitherto given very little thought to. I wanted to hear them talk! I knew it was important to encourage them to be articulate and capable of voicing clear and original opinions, on any given political or social issue. 54 The group was a bright one and generally reacted enthusiastically to my prodding and argumentative goading. I often found the debates to be just as stimulating as they did. The particular topic for that day had to do with the question of the need for a journalist to report news items, be they foreign or local, from an angle, which was best suited or favourable to his country's ideological viewpoint. I started the lecture by asking for a definition of the term "Ideology". One of the female participants volunteered a most concise definition. She said an ideology was (in her precise words) "A set of values, from which a people draw their raison d'etre." I then went on to point out that ideologies often influenced all areas of our social life. In government, I argued that it often affected all shades of political or economic decisions. Mass communication or reportage I maintained, was also very much influenced by a country's ideology, as reflected by the editorial policies of government owned electronic or print media. However, the question was, whether or not it was correct to limit journalistic skills into such restrictive moulds. Should journalists, I asked, not be given free rein to give expression to issues or events they felt strongly about, without any regard to nationalistic ideologies or the editorial policies of the particular media they worked for? As I had anticipated, views on this were strongly divided. Some felt, that to advocate that journalists operate only within the framework of their employer's editorial policy, or their country's ideological preferences , was tantamount to gagging them. Another fellow responded to that, by pointing out that "He who pays the piper dictates the tune"; and so the wise course open to a journalist, was either to ensure that he was employed by a media outfit whose editorial policies were not at variance with his personal perceptions, or else he had little else to do other than to conform. He maintained that other than setting up one's own private news media, a journalist had no choice, but to work within the boundary defined by his employers; be it the government or a particular group of individuals. To believe that the day would arrive, when journalists would be given free rein to report events or issues, irrespective of their country's ideological beliefs or the editorial policies of their employers, was to delude oneself, he maintained. This line of argument sparked off further debates and opposing views as I had expected. 55 An elderly gentleman eloquently advocated for balanced and objective reportage. According to him, what was of prime importance was that: 'The Journalist as the fourth estate of the realm, owed the public the sacred duty of furnishing it with balanced and objective reportage. According to him, once a report is seen to have satisfied these two qualities; then a journalist can be said to have satisfactorily performed his duty. Another fellow was concerned about the consequences of writing 'Balanced and Objective' reports, which were at variance with the national or editorial policies of your employers. According to him such unilateral action could only bring your head to the chopping block. The married woman, Mrs Duncan, who was one of the trainees whose name I could remember at that stage, pointed out that the tendency to slant your reports to suit either the editorial policies of your newspaper, or your country's ideological policy, was a universal one. According to her, most of the reports you got from the electronic and print media of the industrially developed world, reflected this trend. The girl next to her added, that she never put 'paid' to any international issue involving Western Europe and the Soviet Union, until she had listened to both the BBC and Radio Moscow accounts of the story. I brought the debate to a close at that point. I promptly pointed out to the young lady that it was indeed smart of her to endeavour to get Moscow's account of a story involving the Soviet Union before going to press with it. However, I persistently maintained that her report and how much of each of the two accounts she used, was going to be influenced by her own prejudices or bias for or against the two news sources in question. This assertion threatened to burst the debate wide open again, but I held my hand up saying: "Hold it! Just a second! I'm not accusing you of unbalanced or unobjective reporting, but the point I want to stress, is that we all inadvertently, attribute greater or lesser credibility to our source information, be they human or otherwise; and this varying level of credibility is a consequence of our past experiences." I further pointed out: "Ladies and gentlemen, our views on any given issue are often coloured by our personal prejudices or bias: thanks to our social and mental orientation-I remember a German Social-Scientist, Max Weber by name. Have any of you ever heard or read about Weber before?" I 56 asked. A couple of hands went up. "Well", I continued. "He was the man who spoke of the impossibility of a value free sociology; and when I read this work of Weber back at university, I realised that his argument held true, not only for sociology, but also for Mass Communication and ditto for the art of news reporting. Your reportage is often coloured by your own personal judgements. I hesitate to use the word prejudice. However, I'm not here to encourage you or cajole you into becoming mere robots or megaphones for the journalistic ideologies or editorial policies of the media organisation you work for. However, what I am urging you to do, is to become journalists who use their pens to educate the people to whom they owe responsibility. In plain English I am asking you to use your pens to galvanise your people into purposeful action. This is your charge as the fourth estate of the realm" I paused here briefly for effect, then continued. "Some people," I maintained, "Believe they can only do this by being anti-establishment or avant-garde; mind you, I am not saying that there is anything wrong per-se with being either of the two," I hastily said to the intensely attentive group. "Rather, what I am urging is that your brand of journalism be constructive and responsible. Use your pens to help our people cultivate the kind of ideological framework, which would help us grow as a nation; and which takes into cognisance our historical and present context of situation. It requires imagination and a sense of commitment to do this, but that is your charge as the 'watch dog' of the nation. "By all means criticise and chastise when the occasion calls for it; but the onus also rests on you to present in your writing, alternative suggestions to that which you have condemned or criticised. Such constructive journalism will not only preserve your heads from getting to the chopping block, but will more importantly, bring to fruition, all that you set out to achieve, as the fourth estate of the realm and that, ladies and gentlemen, is what I term 'Responsible Journalism'!" There were shouts of "Morel More! More!" as I got up to leave. I simply smiled and asked them to collect copies of the lecture notes I had prepared for them on the topic, from the office of the secretary of the training school. Finally, I reminded them, that we would be having an interviewing workshop on the Monday of the following week. "Have a delightful weekend," I greeted as I left the auditorium. I was very glad the day was over. My temples had begun to throb
57 slightly with a headache. I made my way briskly towards the elevator only to be intercepted by the controller's typist. "Excuse me Miss Solueze, there is a message for you in the office" She said rather pleasantly. "Really?" I asked in mild surprise. I meandered my way back across the corridor to the controller's office. The trainees were milling all around the hallway. I had planned to make a quick getaway before the elevator became crowded. That seemed virtually impossible at that moment. "Yes, I understand I have a message here," I said to Chief's secretary after we had exchanged pleasantries. "Yes, that is correct; a gentleman phoned a couple of minutes ago. He wanted to know when you would be ending your lecture, I told him I wasn't sure, so he asked me to give him a ring at the Director-Generals office as soon as your lecture ended". I knew it was Norman, but I still asked for his name all the same. "Yes, he said he was Mr Obi" the secretary replied. "Very well thank you," I answered. "I'll make the call myself." I took the sheet of paper on which the director-general's extension
"Director-General's office here," said a female voice at the end of the line. "Yes, could you please put me onto Mr Norman Obi; I understand he is with the Director" "Oh! Are you Miss Solueze" she asked. "Yes, I am," I answered starting to get cross. Norman was giving me a
"Effua?" he called out. "Yes," I answered sharply. "I'll meet you downstairs at the parking lot in five minutes." He said smoothly. "I spotted your car and wanted to leave a message for you on your wind shield; but decided against it. I felt I should rather give you the message in person." He ended with a hint of amusement in his voice. "If I may ask, is the message as urgent as the last one was?" I said with a heavy note of sarcasm. "I'll see you downstairs, Okay?" he asked. I wanted to reply: "You 58 leave me no choice," but I decided against it. I simply said, "Okay." I was certain that Chief's secretary, for all his pretence at being busy, was listening in on the conversation. I replaced the receiver on its cradle and thanked him, as I left the office. Downstairs, Norman met me just as I was heading for the exit at the main foyer. He was wearing a light grey suit and looked every bit like the top presidential press man that he was. He had an easy, masculine gait that gave him an air of remarkable self-assurance. "Aren't you supposed to be at your work place now?" I asked. "As a matter of fact I am," he answered evenly. "And that also means
"How generous of you, is that what you hounded me down to tell me?" I asked. "Do you realise you are arrogant Effiua" Norman asked candidly. "Am I supposed to take that as a compliment or a criticism?" I asked
"One of these days I am going to really ruffle that cool exterior of yours," he promised, smiling coolly. "It's a free world Norman and you can do as you like, but I promise you that the chances of that happening are rather remote," I countered with a cool smile. "Am I beginning to bore you?" "Slightly," I answered, with cheek and raised a quizzical eyebrow.
"Listen, I am taking you out to dinner this evening," he said. "I'm coming for you at 7.20 p.m. on the dot. I am not asking you Effua; I am telling you," he stated with deliberate emphasis. "And you had better be ready" he ended. I was not only surprised, but also amused by Norman's authoritative
59 opposite direction. There was a man just about fifteen feet ahead of him and he called out to him to wait for him. I stood watching, as he caught up with the man and the two of them strode off together. I got into my car and carefully backed out of the parking lot. I drove directly to the guest house and ordered a milk and malt drink as soon as I got to my suite. I used the drink to swallow a couple of Aspirins when it arrived. I then lay back on the bed to rest my aching back and promptly fell into a deep and tired slumber. A cramp in my left leg woke me up. A look at my wrist watch told me it was twenty to seven, but I didn't want to believe it. "How come!" I exclaimed. "I've only just closed my eyes," I said to the empty room. I picked up the receiver and rang the switchboard to have the time on my wrist-watch confirmed and much to my surprise it was said to be correct. Just as I replaced the receiver, the phone rang. I jumped, slightly startled and picked it up. "Hello," I said, still feeling befuddled with sleep. "I hope you are ready," I heard Norman's voice asking from the other end. "Look, Norman, is this an inquisition or something? How did you get my number," I asked, trying to sound more cross than I actually was. "You are not supposed to ask a gentleman such questions, Effua. Didn't your mother tell you?" "Gentleman my foot. Look, this is the last time you will pester me in this manner. Have you heard me?" I asked, yawning. "Were you sleeping?" He enquired with interest. "Yes, I was," I replied, trying to sound crossed. "I would have loved to see you the way you are," he said. "Well, in that case, I won't bother to change, I'll just wait for you in
"You would still look gorgeous Effua," Norman said softly. "Your taste must be bizzare," I replied, injecting a light note into a
"You had better get off your pretty ass, sweetheart and get ready" Norman again explained that he had made reservations for our dinner at seven forty-five. "I'll be there for you at half past seven on the dot," he added. "It appears I have no choice but to get ready." "Yes, you're absolutely right; you haven't a choice, and I want you to
60 look gorgeous" he ordered. "I don't feel gorgeous," I retorted and heard him chuckle. "Well, pretend you are!" he answered, before ringing off. I got off
The combined effect of the steam in the bathroom and my hair spray, helped to give my hair its usual bounce and sheen, as I combed it out into a full afro hair style. I sprayed on a little of my favourite perfume just as the telephone rang. "Miss Solueze?" "Yes?" I answered. "There is a gentleman waiting to see you; would you like me to send him up?" asked the male receptionist at the end of the line. "No, there would be no need to do that. You just tell him I'll be with him in a moment". "Alright then, Madame," he answered, before ringing off. I picked up my shawl and handbag as I left the room. I caught sight of myself in the full-length mirrors, which lined the walls of the hallway leading to the lifts. As I strode down, I wondered if I wasn't over-dressed after all. I was obviously elegantly turned out and I wondered if Norman wouldn't take my appearance to mean that I was encouraging his advances. Anyhow, I walked into the lounge at the reception, determined to be careful, but nonetheless as cordial and gracious as I could be on this one night. As I walked into the room, Norman looked up from the magazine he had been pretending to read. I saw a look of unconcealed appreciation flicker across his face and my heart skipped a beat. To hide my confusion, I said the first thing that came to my head. 61 "I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long?" I asked. "No, you didn't," he answered with an easy smile as he got to his feet. As a matter of fact, you dress rather quickly for an elegant woman. I really didn't expect you to be down this soon." "This seems to be my day for compliments," I said. "May we?" he asked with flourish, as he led the way towards the exit
"It depends," I answered, shrugging my shoulders. "On what?" he enquired smiling. "On whether or not I'm familiar with whatever makes up the dish." "You sound as if you have a conservative palate," he remarked.
"Oh blessed are those who walk in presidential circles," I responded. Norman simply grinned. We stopped at a traffic light and he turned to take a look at me saying: "Did I tell you you looked ravishing?" "No, you didn't," I replied. "What you said was that I looked
"Well now that I've had a closer look, I think you look ravishing," he insisted and smartly leaned over to surprise me with a light kiss. "I do hope you have your mind set on the food we're going to eat and not on me," I said for want of something better to say. 62 "Well we are there now so I think I can contain my appetite for now," he answered, as he deftly turned the car into the driveway of a restaurant, the like of which I had never seen in Lagos before. There was a lovely fountain adorning the front entrance as you approached it. Directory: standing standing -> Region III standing regional response team (rrt) meeting williamsburg, Virginia Thursday, January 12, 2012 standing -> Information and Communication Technology (ict) Products and Services available to Victorian schools on a Department preferred supplier basis standing -> Desktop computers standing -> Mobile United Committee Highlights 2014 standing -> The catholic university of america standing -> Episcopal Diocese of Rochester Standing Committee Minutes Download 1.22 Mb. Share with your friends:
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