Kevin Parker arrived home with a hangover.
Food, he decided, was the answer, so he walked to his local Indian takeaway, bought a chicken biryani and rice, carried it back to his flat and sat on the kitchen floor to eat whilst checking emails.
He deleted most of them but then logged onto the Africa section of the WHO website. He scanned every item and every notice until, hidden in the WHO Africa Region’s Twitter messages, he found a message that had somehow found its way into a newspaper article on Islamic insurgency: “A hundred deaths of unknown cause in Kano in Northern Nigeria.”
“Jesus!”
He spooned in the last mouthful of chicken biryani and then logged onto his Malthus Society website but nothing much had happened since the day before. There was only one new message. It was from the Boston - USA group. Someone called Day-Owl who posted occasionally was highlighting a lecture on drought in Sub-Saharan Africa. Kevin had no idea who Day-Owl was, but he smiled at his final words: “Sub-Saharan Africa? No problem. Let there be drought.”
Next, using his own name of Thalmus, he typed his own message:
“Anyone know anything about deaths from an unknown disease in Nigeria?” Then he logged off.
***
Larry Brown, a fresher in consular circles, was still struggling to understand how, as an American doctor, he could best serve the American Embassy’s commercial services team.It was mid-morning and yet he was already staring out of the window, looking for inspiration. Yes, he had the job description that provided for a good deal of freedom to do what he liked. He also had the salary, but what Larry wanted was focus and action.
Behind him, staring at computer screens, sat three commercial specialists - Joseph, Ibrahim, and Olafemi. They were Nigerian nationals who were divided up into industry sectors and did their best to answer queries from US companies, guide them through Nigerian bureaucracy, and organise meetings and trade shows.
On Larry’s healthcare sector was Joseph Eke, but Joseph also had franchising, printing, and consumer electronics to deal with and was, Larry thought, more interested in angling for a job with an American IT company.
“Joseph,” Larry called out, still with his back to the room. “Can’t we run a healthcare trade exhibition some time? The ambassador says he wouldn’t even send his dog to see a doctor in Nigeria. Can’t we bring in a few good US companies? Some medical folks with focus on the private sector? Show them some decent equipment and proper medicines? Perhaps even bring in an American veterinarian to look at the dogs?”
As it seemed Joseph had not even heard him, Larry turned and deliberately coughed, pretending to choke. At last, Joseph and the two other specialists looked up.
“Got any medicine for a bad cough, Jo? Do I need a chest x-ray? Was that a first sign of TB? What hospital should I go to in Lagos to know I would be taken good care of? Did you hear me just now, Joseph?”
“Yes,” Joseph said, “Something about trade exhibitions.”
“So, what about it?”
“They don’t like coming here, Larry. Nigeria is not on their radar.”
“That’s exactly what I thought,” Larry said. Two minutes later, he coughed again. “Have we got a decent directory of US pharmaceutical companies?”
Joseph pointed towards a bookshelf with his thumb whilst still staring at his screen. By midafternoon, Larry had marked thirty US
healthcare companies and checked their websites. At five, the others went home, leaving Larry alone with a shortlist. He sent emails telling the companies who he was and what he wanted. Then he went out for a coffee and came back to check for replies. As there weren’t any and it was still around midday in the USA, he went through his list again, and this time, phoned the companies. By nine p.m. Larry had some names.