Waiting for so long...

As promised, I would be telling my story about the Fulbright experience beginning with this post, which would be coming on, hopefully, Sundays as events happen worth narrating.

 

Let the rain come down and wash away my tears

Let it fill my soul and drown my fears

Let it shatter the walls for a new, new sun

A new day has… Come  - Celine Dion

 

I don’t know where to start, but first of all, let me begin from Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria, where everything started. Like most young ambitious Nigerian scholars, we want to taste the abroad experience, but finding the correct information and guidance to do that is tricky. And of course, the cumbersome logistics and patience. As for the former, luckily ABU is a right place. 

I first met one Dr Edward Abah when I arrived at ABU, a lecturer, father figure and mentor in the English Department. He teaches African American Literature, but not wholly what he teaches that attracted me to him. Excellent teaching without warmth is nothing. You know, you can rate people based on their humane treatment of others, especially their inferiors. 

Dr Edward has a gracious attitude, which combined with his teaching method to make him awesomely amazing. So, we hit it up with Dr Edward. I guess he likes me because of my avid reading. Dr could bet his last buck that I read the book that most students would be hearing from him for the first time. It was just so easy to hold a conversation and become friends. 

We had been getting along with Dr Edward right from the start that some people assumed I was a graduate student. But soon, towards the end of our program, it seemed our days were numbered. 

Dr Edward suggested I should look for a scholarship. But I was a bit timid with his suggestion. I had been playing with my grades, reading novels for pleasure, spending countless hours on school Wi-Fi, instead of on my primary texts. Since these were books that I could hardly find outside the ABU libraries, and since data and internet connection weren’t as cheap and easy back in Kano, why not enjoy them while they lasted? 

In the final year, I worked hard to graduate with at least Second Class Upper. Not being downhearted by my fate, I followed online conversations around education, politics, creative writing and African studies and engaged in community services. In sum, plus the number of books I read and the writing skills I have, I was like the kind of guy who was not accurately represented by grades. 

Then one day, the American Embassy came to the campus for the Black History Month celebration. Naturally, they seize such moments to advertise the various offerings of the US Education opportunities. I picked up one of the flyers and saw something about the Fulbright program.

When Dr Edward suggested scholarships to me, I connected the dots with what I read. But maybe he was thinking broadly about the various categories of Fulbright scholarship because he linked me up with his friend professor Raymond Bako of the Education Department, the then immediate past president of the Nigeria Fulbright Alumni group. If it was FLTA he was thinking, I was sure he would have linked me up with someone who had participated in this particular program.  

I got an appointment with professor Bako. I went to his office with my computer. He asked me to search a page on the internet and read and follow the instructions.  The information was overwhelming. It was pretty stressful and unhelpful. I left it there feeling terrible, hopeless even, guessing there had to be a way he was not showing me. I am sure most of us think the same way. We just feel that the person helping us should have to give you a form to fill, collect it and send an email to the people in the institute for you. But the thing about foreign scholarships is that you have to do it yourself. 

I ran a few searches on social media. Kọ́lá Túbọ̀sún’s name popped up. I chatted him up on Twitter. Before contacting him, even when I found the right Fulbright category for me, I was still doing some hustling on other sides with Dr Muhsin, looking for some graduate programs. 

However, the instructions about the Fulbright program still looked terrifying.  Then Kọ́lá set me up with a contact at the Embassy. I told the guy I was interested in the Fulbright Foreign Language Teaching Assistant program. 

This was 2018, some months after graduation, during my NYSC year. The Embassy guy asked me preliminary questions, but told me the application had closed. Should I be still interested, I could be ready for next year.

Right away, I started preparing. Finally, Kọ́lá agreed to assist me. I went to work, using my free time, researching and compiling the requirements one step at a time. I opened a desk for that, with me in charge, ticking away the checklist for each requirement I had met. 

A journey of a thousand miles in our time begins with a passport.  With it, you have already maximized your chances. I had been intentional all the way although without a clear direction of where to go, but I just knew I had to go. I had gotten a passport immediately after university, thanks to my friend Baffa who lent me money when we just got out of university broke. 

Past the passport issue, which is the first and primary condition for most foreign scholarships, I had almost four months ahead before application start date. When it opened, I was already done with the basic requirements. But I still didn’t know what the application procedures looked like until it opened, and I saw there was more work to do—writing original essays that required research. I was still doing my service. I used that free time to do the research. I saved the NYSC money and bought a computer and used it for that. 

A few months after I returned to Kano the computer broke down barely months after I bought it. But there was a Mazhun Idris who needed a guy to work with. I was the guy, but I didn’t have a computer. He gave me the one he was no longer using. (I still don’t know if it’s free or something). 

I continued my application. I sent each essay I wrote to Kọ́lá, who would look at it and make recommendations. At this stage, I was determined. I effectively controlled my time and social media presence. (My timelines from 2018 upward will show that). 

I sat myself down and chastised me: Habu, what are you doing there? Are you a consumer or contributor of content? What gains do you have spending time on social media anyhow? I have been a shadow figure in anonymity. I like being a private person, sure, but it feels good to have all the likes and comments under your post. But what the likes and the comments will in the end translate to? 

I realized most of the Nigerian scholars you look up to use social media space in some way to advance their career. Most people you sent an email looking for help would only write back to you tonight, when they were done with their business. There was a man who gave me a 3:00am email appointment. 

I redirected my energy. I went underground, quiet but relentless, substantially ignoring the glamorous social media world. 8:00pm-12:00pm were dedicated to researching and writing applications.  12:00pm-01:00am were for sending applications. I was firm and strict on myself. That was how I nearly got a UN communication position!

Regarding my FLTA, I had talked to a few people about what I was up to, the professors who would write my reference letters. I also talked to Muhsin Ibrahim. After what we had done with Kọ́lá, I would again send the essays to Muhsin. There was something I wanted to do. 

I didn’t doubt what Kọ́lá did, himself an FLTA alum. Being from the same culture Muhsin would have some intrinsic understanding of what I was trying to do with my teaching culture essay. Aside from that, we had been working on other applications. 

Muhsin has been incredibly generous with his time and resources. The words he said were personally encouraging and added up considerably to the strengths of my application. Muhsin it was who looked at my final FLTA application. I believe Muhsin is a minimalist; where I put too much wordings, he would tweak them to an adequate few, and offer valuable suggestions until I felt that nothing could stop us. If what they were looking for was an effective, robust application, we had gotten it there. I sent the application and hoped for the best. 

But days after days of silence followed. The thing sat on my mind and refused to go. Then one day, in 2019, I received an email around September about my application interview. I showed it to my friend Musa. The interview lasted just a few minutes, no more than three at most. 

We were now past the ember months into the early 2020. I was anxious, I could no longer wait. I called one of the embassy staffers to know about my application status. He was polite and diplomatic. I didn’t fail, he suggested, but since I had reached January and nobody called me, could I please send in another application? Sure, I said. 

Well, sure and not sure. I was smarting from the pain of failure. I felt bad, bad that I let my people down. How could I mobilize all these people and resources and then fail? I should be ashamed. The logistics it took to get them to write on my behalf, the stiff curve of getting to the interview stage, how could that happen all over again? I couldn’t talk to them.

But Muhsin regularly checked on me. He asked about my well-being and my professional life. I told him what happened with my application. He smiled sagely and said I should not worry; I should feel free to approach my professors again. They would understand. It’s normal in academic circles. 

The thing was that this time I didn’t have to write my application all over again or reapply for my transcripts. I went back to work easily, updated my application and sent it back again. The failure certainly wouldn’t be about the strength of my application in the first instance. So, indeed, where did I go wrong?

I traced my steps. Something was missing the last time. Although I did everything, I suddenly realized I didn’t research about the Fulbright interview. I searched the internet and collected information ahead of the 2021 interview. 

Armed with this new knowledge I knew I had won it this time right from the start.

But that was not the end. 

You have to be selected first by a US host institution before everything could proceed. Months of deepening silence followed. Nobody could tell what the Fulbright people were up to. In the interview they said that I would hear from them within a week if I was selected. But here we were into three months. It was already late May 2021; so, I gave up. 1 June was the closing date for the new application submission. I dusted off my application, intent to submit again for the third time.

Because of the number of rejection letters I received I didn’t even have to open an email to know what it was for. I know the pattern. So, I ignored this email that was sitting in my Promotion folder for three days. By now I formed the habit of checking in social media and my email before going to bed. This time my heart said Okay, go see what this email was for. I opened the message and there it was, a congratulatory message!   

 

Madison, WI