Brain Drain

BRAIN DRAIN

       Mr. Chima Onochie had always known himself as a good scientist; needless to state that he trusted his ability too well. Obviously, he needed not anyone, not even his mentor, to tell him how good he was in the field of physical sciences. Ever five years back he graduated from Federal University of Technology Owerri (FUTO) in Imo State, Nigeria with a bachelor degree in Biochemistry, he had been doing very well on his own. He was a sound researcher who knew where to go whenever he was in need of a material, and absolutely how to acquire it. He had seen research works as his life, or a profession his whole life depended on, but his setback had been paucity of funds. Despite the challenge, he remained resolute and persisted with the notion that such predicament wouldn’t be a barrier towards achieving his goal.

       Way back when he was still in the university, he was reckoned to be the ‘encyclopaedia’ amongst his contemporaries. Even medical students, both undergraduates and postgraduate, in the institution were continually trouping into his department purposely to consult him. His ingenuity and unflinching passion in research works fetched him several sobriquets aside the one mentioned above.

       “Onochie,” one of his lecturers, Professor Obi, called. “You are indeed a good chap in this department.” He enthused.

       He made the remark right in his office during one of his numerous interactions with Chima.

      “Thank you, sir.”

      “You are a star,” Prof. Obi rode on. “But, you must not let it get into your head.”

       Chima was attentive.

      “You need to bend down and do your work,” clarified the lecturer. “So that, you wouldn’t fly when you are meant to walk.”

       Chima remained calm and attentive.

      “Am I understood?”

      “Yes sir.”

      “That’s my boy!” the don asserted.

       Professor G.O. Obi was always there for him. He was his closest teacher and mentor. The former was not only looking at the latter’s prospects as a student but the future that lay ahead of him. He was strongly of the view that Chima would go places after his days in the university, thus he invariably took his precious time to nurture him as well as intimate him on the rudimentary facts he needed to acknowledge.

       Five years after his university education, he was still recalling those wise words of Professor Obi. Chima resided in Lagos State, hence the distance was so wide for him to frequent his alma-mater to engage the don in intellectual conversations. Though they often talked on phone, Chima was seeing it as not enough. At the moment, he was carrying out several researches that needed the guideline of the likes of Prof. Obi. His unsteady income was barely enough to cater for his two-square meals on a daily basis, thus he could not afford the financial muscle to sponsor a trip to and fro FUTO whenever he wished.

      Amidst the financial crisis bedeviling his scientific struggles, one day he thought it wise to assess a loan from a commercial bank. When he made the move, the nature of collateral and interest rate involved scared him away.

      “So Manager,” said Chima during his interaction with the bank’s boss. “You mean I can’t assess this loan without collateral?”

      “That wouldn’t be possible, Mr. Onochie.” The boss replied politely. “I am sure you are aware this is a financial institution?”

      “Meaning?”

      “Our primary aim here is to make profit.” He informed unequivocally.

      “Even on the grounds that I intend to utilize the loan on a project that would be useful to the entire nation, if actualized?”

      The manager smiled. “Thank God you said, if actualized.” he observed. “Meaning that there’s no hundred percent guarantee.”

       Chima was perplexed.

      “Besides,” the boss proceeded. “In the CBN’s directive, there’s no clause that recognizes preference.”

      “What kind of country is this?” the puzzled dude ranted, stood up, attempted to dash out.

      “Mr. Onochie.” The manager called tenderly, looking up to him.

       Chima stopped, reciprocated the look.

      “If it is something I can do for you,” he said. “I would have loved to help.”

       Chima was stagnant as he stood aloof.

      “All the same, I wish you good luck.” The boss said, dipped his hand into his trousers’ pocket and brought out two thousand naira comprising #1000 mint notes. “Please, use this for your transport fare.” He offered, stretching out his right arm.

      “Thank you.” Chima responded imprudently, shunning the offer. “I can take care of myself.” He notified, angrily took his leave.

       The manager shook his big skull as he watched him depart from the office.

       “Hello!” someone on steering called Chima as soon as he left the bank’s premises.

      The caller had parked the car by the roadside before calling on him having caught the sight of him from a distance.

       Chima walked towards the black Toyota Camry car, looked into it. “Denco oooh..!” he shouted.

       Dera, ‘Denco’ as he was fondly called, was his course mate way back in the university.

      Dera smiled, hurriedly opened the car door, walked out and they hugged each other. “Chimo oo!” Dera hailed. “How far nah?”

       “My brother, I just deh ooh,” quoth Chima. “Come, is this your car?” He added.

       “Yes, of course.”

       “Where do you work?”

       “I am with Swift Bank.”

       “A biochemist in a bank?” Chima quickly thought. “I thank God for you.” He managed to utter.

       “Yes ooh!” Dera concurred. “What about you?”

       “My brother,” Chima replied. “I still dey struggle ooh.”

       “Ah-aah, Chima!” Dera lamented. “You mean, you are still job-hunting ..?”

       Chima was speechless.

      “You used to be one of the best brains those days in school.” Dera enthused. “You are still jobless after four years you completed your NYSC?” He said, gesticulating

      “Actually,” quoth Chima, still standing alongside Dera. “I am not searching for job.”

      “What?” exclaimed Dera. “How do you mean?”

      “I have so many researches I need to develop.” he responded. “All I seek is the capital to facilitate them.”

       “Hmm…” Dera took a deep breath.  

       “Besides,” Chima continued. “Working under someone would deprive me of my time and freedom.”

       “If this is your dream and you strongly intend to pursue it,” Dera asserted. “Then, I suggest you leave this country for a Western nation.” He advised, paused. “Where your talent would be valued.”

       “I think you have a point.” He concurred thoughtfully.

       “You have to start thinking in that direction.” Dera enjoined. “I know you will make it over there because you have the brain.”

       “Thank you very much for the candid advice.”

       “You are welcome.” responded Dera. “Please, don’t hesitate to contact me whenever you need my assistance.” He added, stretched his right arm into his car’s pig-hole and brought out his complimentary card. “This is my card.” He said, handing it over to him.

       “Alright.” Chima said as he collected the card.

        Dera equally dipped his hand in his suit’s pocket, brought out five thousand naira comprising #500 notes and gave it to him.

       “Thank you so much.” Chima appreciated.

       “You are highly welcome.” replied Dera. “Please, let me take my leave; someone is waiting for me in my office.” He notified, stretched out his right arm for a departing handshake.

        Chima reciprocated.

        Dera hopped into the car and drove off.

        Chima waved at him as he watched him depart.

        Thereafter, the frustrated 32-year-old Chima started processing his visa to leave Nigeria for Canada with the help of his parents and his friend, Dera. As God would have it, everything worked out successfully as planned.

       When he got to Canada, fascinatingly, he was adopted by the Canadian government having made his talent and research works known to them. Within three months time, he commercialized one of his patents, which was a vaccine for a particular endemic disease. This accomplishment alone, tremendously improved Canada’s net worth.

        Few months after, Mr. Chima Onochie metamorphosed into a totally different person, both finance and fame wise. He was provided with all he needed as a man to ensure that he wouldn’t think of leaving Canada for his home country, Nigeria again for whatsoever reason.

 

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