LETTER TO ANYIM PIUS ANYIM, SGF (2)



HAND-IN-HAND: Chief Pius Anyim (right)
with predecessor, Yayale Ahmed

I had stated in the earlier part of this letter that I shall keep an eye on your performance in office as Secretary to the Government of the Federation. My reason, as stated was that it was in the nature of this column to do so with all public officers who publicly profess their faith in the Lord Jesus Christ.

I quoted some of your recent statements to buttress my position, that you have been unabashed about your commitment to the Faith. First, at your inauguration, you described your appointment as “the will of God for him and for all Nigerians”.

Next, in your address at the annual dinner party of Akokwa Christian Elites in Lagos, you “enjoined Nigerians to always seek the face of the Almighty God in any decision they make in life adding that the reason man experiences difficulties in life is because he wants to play God. ‘He (God) opposes the proud and gives way to the humble…There is no alternative to fearing God, to doing the right thing, to being fair to human beings.”

All of that means to me that we can justifiably expect you to be God-fearing and God-dependent in your official conduct and decisions. That thrills me, no end. It thrills me because it reminds me of the story of Dr Christopher Kolade, a respected retired public officer who went on to leave major footprints in the private sector. The story, which forms the kernel of a book by a UK-based Nigerian journalist and entrepreneur, Mrs Pamela Chinekwe, records his exploits as Nigeria High Commissioner to the United Kingdom. Titled, “He Made the Difference…” and published for Nigeria by KP BOOKS, it goes something like this:

In March 2000, the author, on her very first visit to the Nigeria High Commission in the UK had a never to be forgotten experience of the negative kind. Having been to some Nigerian Embassies in other countries, with nothing no untoward experience, she wasn’t prepared for what she encountered. As she caught her first glimpse of the high commission, she was confronted by what she described as “a dauntingly long queue” reaching well outside the Street with as many as 60 persons outside the building. Reasoning that the queue was for those who had consular business; she explained to one of the staffers that all she wanted to do was personally deliver an envelope to its addressee. But, she was told to join the queue still.  

She obeyed. What followed was to remain in her memory for quite a while. Her words: “a fight broke out within the Embassy (I later found out it was a normal occurrence). It was a fight between frustrated passport seekers and the High Commission officers. My carefully ironed suit was crumpled and stained after I got pushed over by angry Nigerians and almost collapsed in the midst of the fiery battle. Some people helped get me off the ground while the rampage continued fiercely…British Police men came in to caution a guy who had entered through a window into the cash office, demanding the refund of his passport fee with interest, for which he had paid a year ago but was yet to receive his passport.

“Another woman was screaming at the top of her voice defiantly declaring that the only way she would leave without her passport was if the building was burnt down…Finally after seven hours and fifty minutes on the queue, we were all told to go home and the doors were shut and that was that…”

That was Mrs Chinekwe’s first visit to the High Commission of her home country and she was resolved that it would be her last.  But her resolve lasted barely three years.

In May 2003, she was having lunch with one of her aunts when she overheard her advising her friend to drop in at the High Commission to renew her passport the next day, rather than travelling to Nigeria to do it. She couldn’t believe her ears! Why would her aunt recommend that, “suicide zone”, as she called it to anyone, not least of all, a friend?  Her auntie’s reply as recorded in the book was unbelievable: “Not any more, Pam…They now have a new man there. I think it is better and wiser for my friend to go there. I got my passport back so fast when I applied, I could not believe it myself.”

Incredible, though it sounded, the journalist and patriot in her got the better of her and so, she decided to investigate. She took notes, conducted interviews and attended events at Abuja House and in July 2007, she was ready to meet with the man who had been at the centre of the changes that had become very widely acknowledged. 

Part of her record of the meeting with Ambassador Kolade went like this: “I walked into the large office ... The simple, neat and elegant furnishing carefully devoid of any frills, stated a lot about my host.

“’Welcome Pamela, what do you have to show me?’ …I dug into my folder and came up with it. Taking a deep breath, I placed it in his hands, then I waited in anticipation. He looked at the contents of the folder I had given him... He finally spoke, ‘I do not think I should be allowing this. Everything I have done here has been my job, nothing out of the ordinary. ‘

‘No, it is not.’…’I beg your pardon?’  he asked.

“’…But your job is a job no one was ready to do. You did something no one had dared to, until now. This is not something we should just brush under the carpet, but something that must be documented so that others can learn from your experiences and techniques…’”

“…I waited for him to say something and finally after two minutes he looked at me again and said, ‘Go ahead and do it, let me know if you need anything from me.’…He continued by way of explaining his change of mind, saying, ‘I asked the Holy Spirit what to tell you and He said to me, if she says she wants to do this, let her. Although I would never have approved this ordinarily, you can go ahead.’”

Now, his achievements in office, very well documented in the book, are certainly stuff that godly success is made of. There is no reason why yours should be any less spectacular, if you’ll just keep to the path you’ve chosen.  God’s grace will be sufficient for you, in Jesus Name. Amen.