Summer Notes (Part One): They Came Home, Four Years to Remove a Favourite, and Doing Good Work

This is the best summer I’ve experienced since moving to the UK seven years ago. There have been several weeks of gorgeous sunny weather rather than the 1 or 2 weeks that were the norm for our first few summers here. England is truly beautiful in the sun (and very depressing when it is grey and overcast). The earth is dry and the grass is bleached, but it is undeniably nicer when it’s sunnier.

Consider this part one of my Summer Notes. Part two will follow later as we get closer to the end of summer.

The happiest I have been in the past few weeks was the evening I found out the children and teachers abducted in Oyo State had been freed.

There were many moments in June and July where I felt guilty for carrying on with my life while those poor children slept under the open skies of the Old Oyo Forest. I recognised the irrationality of the feeling, but it did not make it any easier to bear. Their abduction felt very close in a way that other bad news out of Nigeria hasn’t. The school principal who became their spokesperson in captivity could have been Mrs. Ojo, who taught me English, or Miss Alade who taught me Agricultural Science. The abducted children could have been any of the dozens of children who attend our church in Ibadan. The community they lived in was not much different from the remote villages I visited as a missionary while studying in OAU.

I let out a little yelp when I heard they had been recovered. I am very grateful they did not just disappear into the footnotes of history, like the Chibok girls and other abductees who Nigeria has failed. (Here’s what I wrote about the abduction in May).

I went through most of my life knowing I could call my dad if I got into any kind of trouble and he would move mountains to help me.

On a hot Wednesday afternoon this July, light-headed in the way a good coffee makes me when it hits on an empty stomach and euphoric after a small personal win, I removed his number from my favourites.

It had only taken nearly four years.

I was recently speaking to a friend who had experienced a tragic loss. He was under pressure from people in his life to “be a man”. They wanted him to push through grief quickly and just get on with things. I disagreed gently but forcefully.

It takes however long it takes. And the more you loved someone, the more likely you are to grieve them deeply. Properly grieving my dad, both publicly and privately, helped me heal and fully re-engage with life again.

There are times in life when “be a man” is the right advice. When someone is grieving is not one of those times.

Two weeks ago, we said goodbye to one of my favourite team mates and direct reports ever, N. P., who left Amazon and my team to start a new adventure elsewhere. I was both excited for him and sad to be losing him. Naturally, that got me thinking about what differentiated people like him and R. T. from others I’d been relieved to be separated from.

I’m afraid all that thinking did not result in any ground-breaking findings. Everything that I loved and would miss about N. P. could be distilled into two buckets: attitude and effort. (There was a third thing – aptitude – but I’ve left it out because people often think of aptitude as innate. I think there’s some truth to that, but I believe a lot of things can be learnt).

N. P. was pleasant to work with. He had a very “can do” approach and was constantly trying to do better. Where some would offer excuses, he offered options and a recommendation. He disagreed with me when he thought it was right to do so, never just for the sake of debate. He sought feedback often and acted on it. He was easy going, professional, and allergic to drama. And he was trustworthy – N. P. was a “talk about it and forget it” kind of guy because when you asked for things once, they got done and you got an update without needing to follow up. He just got on with things.

It all sounds quite simple and that’s why I wanted to write it down. Obviously, there’s some nuance to this and more senior roles require a few extra things – but in the end, anyone who cares enough about being better at their craft can stand out as a knowledge worker.

Hiring his replacement has also caused me to remember a conversation I had with friends in OAU many years ago. After hours of discussing how one could best position themselves for exciting new opportunities, we concluded the single most important thing a person could do was to do whatever they were currently doing very well. Because I’m backfilling for an exciting scope, I’ve been hit with a deluge of referrals and applications. Through it all, what I’ve considered the most in shortlisting (internal) candidates has been a simple question – how well are they doing in their current job?

I think this is as close to a ‘theory of everything’ as I currently am when it comes to early and mid-stage careers for knowledge workers. Attitude. Effort. Make the most of the opportunities in hand.

What else would you add?

“You need to say excuse me when I’m talking about a conversation [with Daddy]”.

I don’t think we were ready to hear OG use some of our own medicine on us this past week. It was so funny in context that we burst out laughing.

She didn’t think it was funny though. As far as she is concerned, if she cannot interrupt us, why should we interrupt her?

I’m counting down to taking time off work this summer! I’m going to do some painting, complete one more chapter of my slowly-developing book, take lots of pictures, and enjoy a road trip in these good old British isles. Until I come back at the end of summer with pictures and reflections, here are some recommendations for your summer reading:

See you on the other side of summer!