Honourable Levi Oguike was a one-term member of the Federal House of Representatives representing Owerri Federal Constituency, Imo State, where he served as the Chairman, House Committee on Habitat, during the first tenure of President Olusegun Obasanjo. Also, a lay Canon of the Anglican Communion, a philanthropist with the longest running Endowment for Excellence at Imo State University, Owerri; ex-Chairman, Commonwealth House of Parliaments, consultant to the European Union and member, Royal Institute of Quantity Surveyors, UK, Honourable Oguike turned 75 years recently. In this interview with Saturday Sun in his garden at Festac Town, Lagos, Hon. Oguike looks at his life in retrospect, and frowns that he is being addressed as a politician, whereas he has made more impacts in other aspects of life than his stint at the House of Reps. He also recalls his close shave with death during the Nigerian Civil War as a welfare officer in Biafra. More interesting to note were his intriguing encounters with Generals Emeka Ojukwu and Philip Effiong during the war.
You recently clocked 75, and that’s a milestone in anybody’s life trajectory. What has life taught you, given you are a man of many parts?
First and foremost, I have come to realise that success is a journey, not a destination. It is very important, because, at the end of the day, what’s important is how you want to be remembered and what legacy you are leaving behind.
You have been a chartered quantity surveyor who worked closely with the legendary Alex Ekwueme; a philanthropist, a politician at the highest level, to mention a few. What would like to be remembered for?
The unfortunate thing about this struggle in life is that politics is a very dangerous vocation to career. When you look at people who have achieved considerable milestones in life, I would like to mention my mentor, Dr Alex Ekwueme, only few know that Dr Akex Ekwueme was an architect who had the largest consulting firm in Nigeria. He had more expatriates than the federal government, because he was given the consultancy to establish the unity schools in the then 24 states of the federation. He created a consortium called Integrated Consultants, which embraced Osigwe Nwoga and Partners, where I worked (that is, a firm of chartered quantity surveyors) and ARCNG, a mechanical and electrical consultancy; and STRUCTNG, a structural arm of that consortium. But the principal was Architect Alex Ekwueme. When he left the practice to become the vice president of Nigeria, that position now almost erased every other thing he had achieved. Nobody remembers him as an architect who established unity schools across the country.
I am frightened. I am a chartered quantity surveyor, a fellow of Royal Institute of Surveyors, UK, and a fellow of Nigerian Institute of Surveyors. In the Anglican Communion, I am a knight of Saint Christopher. In 1999, I was preferred as a lay canon, the highest honour to a laity in the Anglican Communion. Despite all this, people address Levi Oguike as a politician, because I spent four years in the National Assembly and was the Chairman of the House Committee on Habitat. I will be remembered for the spectacular thing I did at Imo State University, Owerri, when I established an endowment to promote excellence and Owerri culture for my constituency, Owerri Federal Constituency. The idea was to award prizes to the best graduating male and female students. A part of the money was meant to celebrate their cultural day. That money is being used till date.
When you look at some of our politicians, they are only interested in honour, and not legacies. So I want to be remembered as a chartered quantity surveyor, a knight of Saint Christopher, a lay canon of the Anglican Communion —these are things that endure, not Levi Oguike, former member of the House of Representatives (laughs). It was a chance [to serve], and not being opportunistic. I don’t believe in opportunism. That’s why I did only one term. I didn’t go again, because I didn’t agree with some of the things they were doing. It was difficult for the upright to survive in politics. The only time I returned to active politics was when I served as the commissioner for lands under Governor Ikedi Ohakim and was reappointed as Commissioner for Planning and Economic Development. That was after I served as a consultant to the European Union at the National Planning Commission. In fact, I was the Coordinating Technical Adviser to NAO (National Authorising Officer).
These are the critical things one should be remembered for, not the time one spent among 360 members of parliament, arguing over constituency interests. I don’t mean that it doesn’t matter. It does, but also you can achieve things outside the realm of elective office, because you can influence decisions.
You are famed for initiating the Aso Villa Chapel at Aso Rock, how true is that?
When I had the opportunity to visit the Presidential Villa in 1996, during the Abacha regime (I was the Publicity Secretary of Nigerian Institute of Quantity Surveyors), I saw the mosque, and I said it would be nice to have a chapel, too. So, when I was elected to the House, that thought returned to me, and I called a close friend of mine, Architect Femi Ayodele, and asked him to do me a sketch of a chapel, that I would take it to the president (Obasanjo) to build at the Presidential Villa. So he designed a chapel, but, instead of giving it to me, he took it to Doyin Okukpe, who took it straight to Obasanjo, and the president took it to Julius Berger without my involvement as expected. Tell me why that should happen? But, you see, the original thought was mine. The architect, Ayodele, also lost out, because our idea was hijacked. But the important thing is that a chapel has been built. I have not even worshiped there (laughs).
You cheated death in the defunct, short-lived Biafran Republic, where you served as a welfare officer. I guess that’s one of the things you must be grateful to God for at this moment in time?
Yes, that was at Umuahia when the city fell. I think that should be in 1969. There was a construction company —it used to be called Eastern Construction Company, owned by Chief Oba Nwandu and Chief Okafor. It was changed to Biafra General Contractors. I was the Technical Officer or supervisor. But, because of what we were doing, my schedule became to commandeer and requisition good homes as His Excellency’s Guest Houses. So we would go round liberated areas, particularly Owerri, to look for nice buildings and impress on the owners to move to the boys’ quarters, redecorate it, and, if there was need for His Excellency to move in, it would be easy. So my schedule was to rehabilitate buildings for VIPs.
In fact, that was when I met General Ojukwu face to face. He came to inspect the Ministry of External Affairs. Ojukwu had a spiritual aura immediately you saw him; your head would swell. Not only did I meet Ojukwu, I had the opportunity of riding in BDF 1 (Biafra Defence Force), the staff car for General Philip Effiong, because of the work I was doing. He came with Paddy Nwakobi, the Director, Housing Directorate. They were told I was in charge of his rehabilitation. So they came to locate me at Shell Camp, Owerri, where I was on site, and he asked his ADC, a major, to get down for me to get into the car. I was frightened. So we went to House 88/89 at Shell Camp, the buildings allocated to General Philip Effiong. We built a bunker for him. In fact, on one occasion, we (the workers) hid in the bunker with his wife when there was an air raid.
I had another close shave experience when Umuahia fell, and we had gone to evacuate building materials at Ntueke for the National Airport Board; we were trying to create another airport around Ntueke, Orlu. When we brought the tippers that were loading, Colonel Nwafili came, rushed on us, and shouted at me that he didn’t know why he didn’t shoot me immediately, that he wanted to shoot me at sight, because he thought we were looting. Fortunately, Brigadier Imo, who was at the back of Progress Hotel, Umuahia, saw all of us. So he called Colonel Nwafili to bring us. When we got there, I explained to him that we were taking those things to the National Airport Board, Ntueke. He admitted he was aware. That was how I escaped death. Of course, we never returned to that place after loading the tippers (laughs).
There are other roles I played in Biafra as a welfare officer, especially relocating refugees returning from Port Harcourt to Owerri. Right now, I am writing two biographies at once. That’s why I said my life is a journey. I was a privileged child —privileged in the sense that not everybody drank salted milk, but I did. My mother used to give us rice with salted milk, brought by expatriates, my father’s friends.
So you were born with a silver spoon as a child? Tell us about your childhood.
I don’t know the colour of the spoon, but we were not in lack. Then, there was reversal of fortune at about the age of 7 when my father died. But, before then, I had acquired a mask for leasing. My peers would rent the mask and bring me money, but I never played masquerading myself. I was doing business during Easter, Christmas and festive periods. So I had this comfort. Things became rough after my father died, and an uncle of mine residing in Ibadan brought somebody he wanted me to serve as a houseboy in Ibadan. But my mother said no. So the title of my ongoing work is She Said No. If she didn’t say no, I wouldn’t be what I am today. So I owe her my life. My father was the head of the Ozuzu dynasty. Ozuzu gave us a privilege that even the warrant chief paid homage to my father during the festival. That Ozuzu Festival was a prelude to the farming season.
Ozuzu is a four-day festival set aside for hunting. The privilege was that all the games caught would be brought to my father’s court. No hunter, even the warrant chief in charge of the clan, would take his kill home; they had to bring everything to my father. He would take the leg of every animal caught and then entertain the community for four days, eating and drinking. No thanks to the complications of Christianity, people now thought it was idolatry.
What is important in life is that there are people who are loud about their background, and there are people who wear royalty lightly. I remember an event at the National Assembly where some people went to the Speaker of the House to plead for me that I should be made a committee chairman, because I was the leader of the Southeast Caucus when we came in, and why should they exclude me. I told them I wasn’t schooled in the brinkmanship. It didn’t bother me. But, at the end of the day, I went to the Speaker; I told him my uncle was the Chairman of the Imo State Council of Traditional Rulers. I could get him to bring a note from the Emir of Kano for you or get another from Chibudom Nwuche, the Deputy Speaker, during our time. But I didn’t have to do that. I didn’t go to Salisu Buhari —his father was our contractor at the CBN Housing Estate in Kano, and I would have easily gone to him to get me access. It was after he left that I told him that. He said, why didn’t I tell him that? I told him I don’t struggle for positions.
At the end of the day, when I packaged the first international seminar that brought representatives from all over the world (I had the opportunity of meeting the Speaker, House of Commons), everybody took notice of me. We were in Washington to invite the speaker. The current Ghanaian President (Nana Akufo-Addo) was the Attorney-General of the Federation of Ghana then; he was there at that seminar. He came with the Deputy Speaker of Ghana. That seminar was when we gave Pius Anyim his first outing, because Senator Okadigbo had just been removed as Senate President on Tuesday, and that seminar was going to start next Monday. Pius Anyim was elected Senate President on Thursday. By Sunday, I had gone to his presidential suite to show him the poster of the seminar, with him as the president and Ibrahim Mantu as his deputy. He was surprised to see that. He asked me, “Are you a magician?” So you can see I packaged Pius Anyim’s first public outing.
At 75, you must be retired now, how are you spending your time?
I am on “semi retirement”. Part time, I consult for the younger ones in quantity surveying. So I have not left the industry totally. To keep body and soul together, I am involved in environmental activities. In 2009, I was elected the President of the Commonwealth Ecological Council in the UK. I am still the honourary president. I am also engaged in writing poetry. I have a new work with Zulom Press in The US —The Power of Thoughts and Mind. It’s on sale on Amazon. I still write. I like books. Sometimes I will be reading two or three books at the same time. Also, I take interest in public welfare. It was in 2001 that I started a revolving loan for widows in my community.
We are talking to the House Committee on Ecological Fund to see if they can get the DPR (Director of Ecological Resources) to come up with a programme that will create the collection of used oil from filling stations and recycle them into grease and other things. Nigeria is the only place that it’s wasted. I can say I am still active in the environment and in my profession.
What’s your relationship with the Uzuakoli Leprosy Centre? You seem to be anguished by its present fortune.
I had a conversation with an elder in my community, Emma Orji, a 92-year old man, about the history of Owerri from 1902 to 2010. By chance, the history of the Uzuakoli Leprosy Centre came up. He gave me a monograph to read. When I finished reading it and the state of that place, I said it was uncharitable for our people, the Abia State Government, Methodist Church of Nigeria, to allow that place to go into disrepair; that these Irishmen and women left their comfort zone in Island to come and live in Uzuakoli where there was no electricity and were looking after black lepers. These lepers were moved from Port Harcourt to Uzuakoli —because that was where they were. The leper colony could have been at Borokiri, Port Harcourt, but Port Harcourt people refused. So all the lepers in Port Harcourt were moved to Uzuakoli. That was how Harcourt White went to Uzuakoli and became a famous gospel singer and nurse. Dr Savage, Yoruba man, was the only blackman that went to Uzoakoli, and Harcourt Whyte became his interpreter and nurse. So you can see how early the Yoruba were involved in philanthropy. We are talking about 1920-something! There was no Igbo doctor at that time. So, to allow that place to decay like that —for eight years without electricity — is disgusting to me. The transformer Orji Uzoh Kalu gave them hasn’t been activated till date. Their generator is not working; they are using lanterns, struggling with snakes. You can’t help being disturbed when you read about this place. To allow it to die is uncharitable! That place should be restored as a monument, in memory of the Irish doctors who established it. Even if you don’t want to maintain it, you just don’t let it die.
Looking at your life in retrospect, if you had the chance to relive it, what would you have done differently? Any regrets?
When I looked at my children and the privilege they got —being trained in the best universities in the UK — and myself, the privilege of getting to the height I attained, I don’t think I would be able to do anything differently. The only thing I regret is the presence of a father while growing up. That presence is critical in life. When he died, because of his position in the society —he donated the land for the first church in my community, which I have repeated myself — it was his wish, through the oracle, for me to perform the rituals there. I am sure it didn’t go down well with my elder brother. It would appear like Essau and Jacob, but my father chose me; I didn’t choose myself to perform those rites at his funeral. And that’s significant in Igbo culture. Maybe that was where the blessings came from.
Honourable Levi Oguike was a one-term member of the Federal House of Representatives representing Owerri Federal Constituency, Imo State, where he served as the Chairman, House Committee on Habitat, during the first tenure of President Olusegun Obasanjo. Also, a lay Canon of the Anglican Communion, a philanthropist with the longest running Endowment for Excellence at Imo State University, Owerri; ex-Chairman, Commonwealth House of Parliaments, consultant to the European Union and member, Royal Institute of Quantity Surveyors, UK, Honourable Oguike turned 75 years recently. In this interview with Saturday Sun in his garden at Festac Town, Lagos, Hon. Oguike looks at his life in retrospect, and frowns that he is being addressed as a politician, whereas he has made more impacts in other aspects of life than his stint at the House of Reps. He also recalls his close shave with death during the Nigerian Civil War as a welfare officer in Biafra. More interesting to note were his intriguing encounters with Generals Emeka Ojukwu and Philip Effiong during the war.
You recently clocked 75, and that’s a milestone in anybody’s life trajectory. What has life taught you, given you are a man of many parts?
First and foremost, I have come to realise that success is a journey, not a destination. It is very important, because, at the end of the day, what’s important is how you want to be remembered and what legacy you are leaving behind.
You have been a chartered quantity surveyor who worked closely with the legendary Alex Ekwueme; a philanthropist, a politician at the highest level, to mention a few. What would like to be remembered for?
The unfortunate thing about this struggle in life is that politics is a very dangerous vocation to career. When you look at people who have achieved considerable milestones in life, I would like to mention my mentor, Dr Alex Ekwueme, only few know that Dr Akex Ekwueme was an architect who had the largest consulting firm in Nigeria. He had more expatriates than the federal government, because he was given the consultancy to establish the unity schools in the then 24 states of the federation. He created a consortium called Integrated Consultants, which embraced Osigwe Nwoga and Partners, where I worked (that is, a firm of chartered quantity surveyors) and ARCNG, a mechanical and electrical consultancy; and STRUCTNG, a structural arm of that consortium. But the principal was Architect Alex Ekwueme. When he left the practice to become the vice president of Nigeria, that position now almost erased every other thing he had achieved. Nobody remembers him as an architect who established unity schools across the country.
I am frightened. I am a chartered quantity surveyor, a fellow of Royal Institute of Surveyors, UK, and a fellow of Nigerian Institute of Surveyors. In the Anglican Communion, I am a knight of Saint Christopher. In 1999, I was preferred as a lay canon, the highest honour to a laity in the Anglican Communion. Despite all this, people address Levi Oguike as a politician, because I spent four years in the National Assembly and was the Chairman of the House Committee on Habitat. I will be remembered for the spectacular thing I did at Imo State University, Owerri, when I established an endowment to promote excellence and Owerri culture for my constituency, Owerri Federal Constituency. The idea was to award prizes to the best graduating male and female students. A part of the money was meant to celebrate their cultural day. That money is being used till date.
When you look at some of our politicians, they are only interested in honour, and not legacies. So I want to be remembered as a chartered quantity surveyor, a knight of Saint Christopher, a lay canon of the Anglican Communion —these are things that endure, not Levi Oguike, former member of the House of Representatives (laughs). It was a chance [to serve], and not being opportunistic. I don’t believe in opportunism. That’s why I did only one term. I didn’t go again, because I didn’t agree with some of the things they were doing. It was difficult for the upright to survive in politics. The only time I returned to active politics was when I served as the commissioner for lands under Governor Ikedi Ohakim and was reappointed as Commissioner for Planning and Economic Development. That was after I served as a consultant to the European Union at the National Planning Commission. In fact, I was the Coordinating Technical Adviser to NAO (National Authorising Officer).
These are the critical things one should be remembered for, not the time one spent among 360 members of parliament, arguing over constituency interests. I don’t mean that it doesn’t matter. It does, but also you can achieve things outside the realm of elective office, because you can influence decisions.
You are famed for initiating the Aso Villa Chapel at Aso Rock, how true is that?
When I had the opportunity to visit the Presidential Villa in 1996, during the Abacha regime (I was the Publicity Secretary of Nigerian Institute of Quantity Surveyors), I saw the mosque, and I said it would be nice to have a chapel, too. So, when I was elected to the House, that thought returned to me, and I called a close friend of mine, Architect Femi Ayodele, and asked him to do me a sketch of a chapel, that I would take it to the president (Obasanjo) to build at the Presidential Villa. So he designed a chapel, but, instead of giving it to me, he took it to Doyin Okukpe, who took it straight to Obasanjo, and the president took it to Julius Berger without my involvement as expected. Tell me why that should happen? But, you see, the original thought was mine. The architect, Ayodele, also lost out, because our idea was hijacked. But the important thing is that a chapel has been built. I have not even worshiped there (laughs).
You cheated death in the defunct, short-lived Biafran Republic, where you served as a welfare officer. I guess that’s one of the things you must be grateful to God for at this moment in time?
Yes, that was at Umuahia when the city fell. I think that should be in 1969. There was a construction company —it used to be called Eastern Construction Company, owned by Chief Oba Nwandu and Chief Okafor. It was changed to Biafra General Contractors. I was the Technical Officer or supervisor. But, because of what we were doing, my schedule became to commandeer and requisition good homes as His Excellency’s Guest Houses. So we would go round liberated areas, particularly Owerri, to look for nice buildings and impress on the owners to move to the boys’ quarters, redecorate it, and, if there was need for His Excellency to move in, it would be easy. So my schedule was to rehabilitate buildings for VIPs.
In fact, that was when I met General Ojukwu face to face. He came to inspect the Ministry of External Affairs. Ojukwu had a spiritual aura immediately you saw him; your head would swell. Not only did I meet Ojukwu, I had the opportunity of riding in BDF 1 (Biafra Defence Force), the staff car for General Philip Effiong, because of the work I was doing. He came with Paddy Nwakobi, the Director, Housing Directorate. They were told I was in charge of his rehabilitation. So they came to locate me at Shell Camp, Owerri, where I was on site, and he asked his ADC, a major, to get down for me to get into the car. I was frightened. So we went to House 88/89 at Shell Camp, the buildings allocated to General Philip Effiong. We built a bunker for him. In fact, on one occasion, we (the workers) hid in the bunker with his wife when there was an air raid.
I had another close shave experience when Umuahia fell, and we had gone to evacuate building materials at Ntueke for the National Airport Board; we were trying to create another airport around Ntueke, Orlu. When we brought the tippers that were loading, Colonel Nwafili came, rushed on us, and shouted at me that he didn’t know why he didn’t shoot me immediately, that he wanted to shoot me at sight, because he thought we were looting. Fortunately, Brigadier Imo, who was at the back of Progress Hotel, Umuahia, saw all of us. So he called Colonel Nwafili to bring us. When we got there, I explained to him that we were taking those things to the National Airport Board, Ntueke. He admitted he was aware. That was how I escaped death. Of course, we never returned to that place after loading the tippers (laughs).
There are other roles I played in Biafra as a welfare officer, especially relocating refugees returning from Port Harcourt to Owerri. Right now, I am writing two biographies at once. That’s why I said my life is a journey. I was a privileged child —privileged in the sense that not everybody drank salted milk, but I did. My mother used to give us rice with salted milk, brought by expatriates, my father’s friends.
So you were born with a silver spoon as a child? Tell us about your childhood.
I don’t know the colour of the spoon, but we were not in lack. Then, there was reversal of fortune at about the age of 7 when my father died. But, before then, I had acquired a mask for leasing. My peers would rent the mask and bring me money, but I never played masquerading myself. I was doing business during Easter, Christmas and festive periods. So I had this comfort. Things became rough after my father died, and an uncle of mine residing in Ibadan brought somebody he wanted me to serve as a houseboy in Ibadan. But my mother said no. So the title of my ongoing work is She Said No. If she didn’t say no, I wouldn’t be what I am today. So I owe her my life. My father was the head of the Ozuzu dynasty. Ozuzu gave us a privilege that even the warrant chief paid homage to my father during the festival. That Ozuzu Festival was a prelude to the farming season.
Ozuzu is a four-day festival set aside for hunting. The privilege was that all the games caught would be brought to my father’s court. No hunter, even the warrant chief in charge of the clan, would take his kill home; they had to bring everything to my father. He would take the leg of every animal caught and then entertain the community for four days, eating and drinking. No thanks to the complications of Christianity, people now thought it was idolatry.
What is important in life is that there are people who are loud about their background, and there are people who wear royalty lightly. I remember an event at the National Assembly where some people went to the Speaker of the House to plead for me that I should be made a committee chairman, because I was the leader of the Southeast Caucus when we came in, and why should they exclude me. I told them I wasn’t schooled in the brinkmanship. It didn’t bother me. But, at the end of the day, I went to the Speaker; I told him my uncle was the Chairman of the Imo State Council of Traditional Rulers. I could get him to bring a note from the Emir of Kano for you or get another from Chibudom Nwuche, the Deputy Speaker, during our time. But I didn’t have to do that. I didn’t go to Salisu Buhari —his father was our contractor at the CBN Housing Estate in Kano, and I would have easily gone to him to get me access. It was after he left that I told him that. He said, why didn’t I tell him that? I told him I don’t struggle for positions.
At the end of the day, when I packaged the first international seminar that brought representatives from all over the world (I had the opportunity of meeting the Speaker, House of Commons), everybody took notice of me. We were in Washington to invite the speaker. The current Ghanaian President (Nana Akufo-Addo) was the Attorney-General of the Federation of Ghana then; he was there at that seminar. He came with the Deputy Speaker of Ghana. That seminar was when we gave Pius Anyim his first outing, because Senator Okadigbo had just been removed as Senate President on Tuesday, and that seminar was going to start next Monday. Pius Anyim was elected Senate President on Thursday. By Sunday, I had gone to his presidential suite to show him the poster of the seminar, with him as the president and Ibrahim Mantu as his deputy. He was surprised to see that. He asked me, “Are you a magician?” So you can see I packaged Pius Anyim’s first public outing.
At 75, you must be retired now, how are you spending your time?
I am on “semi retirement”. Part time, I consult for the younger ones in quantity surveying. So I have not left the industry totally. To keep body and soul together, I am involved in environmental activities. In 2009, I was elected the President of the Commonwealth Ecological Council in the UK. I am still the honourary president. I am also engaged in writing poetry. I have a new work with Zulom Press in The US —The Power of Thoughts and Mind. It’s on sale on Amazon. I still write. I like books. Sometimes I will be reading two or three books at the same time. Also, I take interest in public welfare. It was in 2001 that I started a revolving loan for widows in my community.
We are talking to the House Committee on Ecological Fund to see if they can get the DPR (Director of Ecological Resources) to come up with a programme that will create the collection of used oil from filling stations and recycle them into grease and other things. Nigeria is the only place that it’s wasted. I can say I am still active in the environment and in my profession.
What’s your relationship with the Uzuakoli Leprosy Centre? You seem to be anguished by its present fortune.
I had a conversation with an elder in my community, Emma Orji, a 92-year old man, about the history of Owerri from 1902 to 2010. By chance, the history of the Uzuakoli Leprosy Centre came up. He gave me a monograph to read. When I finished reading it and the state of that place, I said it was uncharitable for our people, the Abia State Government, Methodist Church of Nigeria, to allow that place to go into disrepair; that these Irishmen and women left their comfort zone in Island to come and live in Uzuakoli where there was no electricity and were looking after black lepers. These lepers were moved from Port Harcourt to Uzuakoli —because that was where they were. The leper colony could have been at Borokiri, Port Harcourt, but Port Harcourt people refused. So all the lepers in Port Harcourt were moved to Uzuakoli. That was how Harcourt White went to Uzuakoli and became a famous gospel singer and nurse. Dr Savage, Yoruba man, was the only blackman that went to Uzoakoli, and Harcourt Whyte became his interpreter and nurse. So you can see how early the Yoruba were involved in philanthropy. We are talking about 1920-something! There was no Igbo doctor at that time. So, to allow that place to decay like that —for eight years without electricity — is disgusting to me. The transformer Orji Uzoh Kalu gave them hasn’t been activated till date. Their generator is not working; they are using lanterns, struggling with snakes. You can’t help being disturbed when you read about this place. To allow it to die is uncharitable! That place should be restored as a monument, in memory of the Irish doctors who established it. Even if you don’t want to maintain it, you just don’t let it die.
Looking at your life in retrospect, if you had the chance to relive it, what would you have done differently? Any regrets?
When I looked at my children and the privilege they got —being trained in the best universities in the UK — and myself, the privilege of getting to the height I attained, I don’t think I would be able to do anything differently. The only thing I regret is the presence of a father while growing up. That presence is critical in life. When he died, because of his position in the society —he donated the land for the first church in my community, which I have repeated myself — it was his wish, through the oracle, for me to perform the rituals there. I am sure it didn’t go down well with my elder brother. It would appear like Essau and Jacob, but my father chose me; I didn’t choose myself to perform those rites at his funeral. And that’s significant in Igbo culture. Maybe that was where the blessings came from.