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“Change occurs when the pain of remaining the same is greater than the pain of changing.“ – Alcoholics Anonymous

It was 3:00pm and my daughter’s basketball game was two hours away. It was time to shave, brush my teeth, shower and get ready. I had the brush in my mouth when suddenly 85% of what you are about to read came pouring out. So strong was the energy and flow that I had to keep writing. Fifty minutes later, I realized I still had the brush and paste in my mouth, and was typing with two thumbs on my iPhone keyboard as if my life depended on it. It some direct ways, it DID. The other 15% came at 3:00am the following day.

If you are unfamiliar with “Yakubu”, it might be worth reading my earlier blog posts on the Crock Pot Moments 1 & 2. In them, I introduced the character and set the context for our cordial, stormy, friendly and what has now become a very intimate relationship journey.

As I was stepping into this unknown struggle, I recalled my Sunday school experience and a bible story I had learned about a man named Jacob. The story had it that he wanted something so badly and went to all extent to get it. The Bible story is of an encounter Jacob had with an angel and how he held on and wrestled with the angel until the break of dawn. According to the story, Jacob’s hip joint was dislocated in the process for he would not let go until he was blessed by the angel. The morale of the story was that if one wanted something from God badly, one needed to STAY and not let go. Also that there is a price for the life of abundance and fulfillment we see people experiencing. What stuck with me the most was the process and the wrestling part. His was with an angel, mine was with Yakubu.

After the romantic phase of my meeting Yakubu, adoring him, respecting him and caring about what he had to say, things soon got mean and nasty. It was as if the first part of meeting Yakubu, adoring Yakubu and becoming Yakubu in Awam Amkpa’s play “Not In My Season of Songs” hadn’t happened. It got to a point where I was spiritually, emotionally and psychologically in pain. I was also angry and resentful towards him. In process work terminology, I had reached an edge – a big boulder I could no longer ignore or avoid. One I had to deal with or confront.

As is common with two party and group conflicts, now was not the time to take the other side. It was escalation time. There were assumptions flying around on both sides. There was blame and meanness and judgments. I was accused by Yakubu for not being African or black enough, of not raising my children right. He was merely re-echoing what a Minnesota-based Nigerian friend has been saying for years.

Just like me, he said my children had African names but were in fact not African; that their worldviews were white and they did not even speak the African language. He accused me of selling out and in fact becoming a white man. He reminded me that I wasn’t even there when the white man came to “our land”, raped, plundered and stole from it and occupied it until all was destroyed.

Yakubu went directly into the areas of religion and education. He told me just like the renowned African theologian, John S. Mbiti had articulated years ago, that prior to the coming of Christianity toAfrica, “Africans were already incurably religious” (John Mbiti, African Religions and Philosophy, Heinemann, 1989). He said I had taken to the way of the white man including his religion and education. He reminded me that he had been educated in the white man’s ways as a cartographer and that he is resentful of the constant drawing and redrawing of the African and Nigerian maps to meet the white man’s insatiable needs and greed. He chastised me for getting a PhD as according to him, it was the ultimate mark of conscription.

Some conflicts last for a few days, even months. Others last for years and even generations. Mine with Yakubu had been going on for over 50 years. I only realized it tangentially ten years ago, became aware of its impact and picked up the accusation months ago, midway through my process work journey. The accusations, blaming and shaming have been relentless. I have cried, been sad and even became mildly depressed but it wouldn’t stop. It felt like the more I stepped into my victimhood, the more the abuse continued. To protect myself and maintain my insanity, I went into a defensive mode for a while and then I fought back and justified my rank and accomplishments. I told Yakubu who I had become, what I had done and the lifestyle I had achieved. I took pride in my power of choice and global citizenship.

It seemed for a while that we were even but the conflict soon moved into my sleep time and dream world. I would wake up several times during the night questioning my identity and entertaining the thought that I might truly be a fraud. All was calm on the outside but tumultuous on the inside. I had to keep life going. I had a family to raise and work to do in the world. I had horrible dreams and nightmares, some of which I processed in supervision with my process work mentors and teachers. For a time, I would work and do life during the day and fight mainly at night. Soon the boundaries were blurred as I would work and fight during the day and work and fight during the night.

This was indeed a fight – a fight for my healing, integration and identity. If there was ever one worth fighting, THIS WAS IT. It was a fight for MY LIFE. Yakubu was eloquent. I was subdued. For how could I possibly talk back or raise my voice at him when I was raised to respect my elders and value what they had to say.

With hours and hours of inner work, a point came in the process when my voice not only came through but grew stronger. I was able to stand up to Yakubu. His words still hurt but I could no longer stonewall or avoid, as my tendency in conflict was. I spoke back. I defended, I justified and I challenged his views and opinions. It had in fact become a two-party conflict.

My conflict with Yakubu was one of those where there would be intense fighting for a while and then there would be a ceasefire. Beneath all that was a readiness for when conflict would break out again. At some point in my ceasefire phase, I had the fortune of reconnecting with a college friend on Facebook. As I snooped through my friend’s list of over 700 friends, something caught my attention. Going by the names, about 90% were clearly Nigerians and Africans. Because of the sensitivity to racial/ethnic issues Yakubu had reawakened in me, I went back and browsed through my own friends’ list. The contrast was striking from that perspective. My own list was less than 10% Nigerian and African. The experience triggered the feeling that Yakubu was right after all. Now I was fully living the role. It had an assigned name. It was smelling and feeling like internalized oppression. It really had to be. Something sobering I realized in the process was that Yakubu was not an elder out there to engage but a powerful voice and presence that had taken up residence inside me. It was the voice of my internalized oppression and marginalized self. It was not the “enemy” outside of me. It was the “enemy” within.

All of that knowing didn’t turn things around immediately. It further escalated the conflict. Whereas, with Yakubu as an external presence and voice, I could take occasional breaks for brief moments of sleep, with my discovery it was an all out war. Someone could in fact die. I felt vulnerable and yet hopeful. Vulnerable because I was in what felt like a never-ending free fall. Hopeful because I was acknowledged in my process by my support team and assured that if I didn’t quit, I would come through stronger, wiser and more aware of how to construct my life and reality going forward, and thus become more internally aligned, have fluidity and be more effective in my life and work.

During this ensuing conflict, I was seeking a LOT of help in supervision from my Process Work teachers, mentors and peers. I needed every help I could find. I had come too far forward at this point in my encounter with Yakubu to consider going back. The risk of going back was greater than the pain of enduring, totally surrendering to the process and hoping as in Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s journey, that there was a breakthrough in sight – that somehow I (the hero) would return, bruised or with a dislocated and soon to heal hip, and be blessed and transformed.

During one of my recent supervision sessions, something shifted in my relationship with Yakubu that surprised me. We went from standing face to face and tearing each other apart to standing side by side, being curios and compassionate and inviting each other’s stories. I discovered that mutual learning and integration was now possible. I may not have been there when according to Yakubu, the British colonialists and religious zealots went to Nigeria; when the African people were originally oppressed and marginalized and foreign religions destroyed the incurable religiosity of Africans but I could appreciate and fully enter into the experience. As I received Yakubu’s pain, anger and rage, I witnessed his resolve to let go of the pain and old story. I finally felt for him.

I witnessed myself become an elder, hold complexity, empathize with Yakubu. I experienced Yakubu become the elder I dreamed about. I had known he was a worrier, fierce, stern and angry. Now I saw his ability to hold complexity, his fluidity, his wisdom, his vulnerability. I saw him integrate his polarized parts. I saw deep democracy occurring inside Yakubu. As he shifted, so did I and as I shifted, so did he. I got in touch with my deep democracy too. I listened to all sides and all voices. It was as if we were engaged in a delicate and intricate dance. It was very intimate. There was a good doze of tears involved. In that moment I knew I had come home. I had now fully come home to myself.

I am convinced that all of me need to be integrated for healing and wholeness to occur. My journey in life and experiences do not make me less black. They rather expand the range and depth of who I am as a human being. I am a full human being and Nigerian/African that is also American, is a global citizen, a clergy, well travelled, well educated and experienced/ skilled in many fields of human endeavor. I am a man who is all of these things and many more. All parts of me count and I do not owe anyone any apology for that.

Am I there yet? The answer is a resounding NO. I am work in progress. This path that I am on takes a lifetime to complete. The reality of course is that I am closer to my destination than when I first began. Where do I go from here you may ask? My first and primary commitment is to myself and my ongoing healing and integration. On my honor I promise that:

• I will continue the dialogue with Yakubu: I will embrace the polarity of the experience and lean into the both/and of what Yakubu and I can create. This is part of a lifelong process of discovering and mastering myself and living a life of purpose and impact.
• I will bring Yakubu forward: Meeting and befriending Yakubu and experiencing him as teacher and ally are things that were meant to be. He will forever inform who I am and how I live and always be part of my vocabulary. I introduce you to Yakubu as a metaphor for parts of you that you have disowned or marginalized.
• I will hold myself as 100% Nigerian/African and 100% global citizen: All of who I am count and all of who I am and have are needed forAfrica’s ultimate liberation and global restoration and healing. No part of me will be left out.
• I will not domesticate Yakubu: I will own his edginess and maintain the wildness, which are my secondary parts. I will integrate them into the elder, caring, holding, championing sides which are part of my primary identity.

I invite you to pause and grab your journal and pen or recorder. Take a few deep breadths. You can even close your eyes for a moment if you so choose. Now take yourself to your favorite place on earth or an awe-inspiring moment in nature (also called your earth spot). Take in the energy and presence of this place. Make yourself comfortable. Take a moment and go inside. From this place, respond to the following questions in your journal:

• What parts of your life and core identity have you disowned or marginalized?
• What is holding you back from visiting those uncomfortable places and going over your edges?
• When will you begin your inner work?

I hope my process has contributed to your desire to begin or continue your inner work journey/ process. Please do me a favor by posting your questions, responses or comments triggered by this post on my blog site. It will help me a lot in my ongoing journey and inner work process.

Because of the nature of this particular post and potential need for inner work process it might trigger in you, please consider requesting for a conversation with me if you so desire.

Thank you for journeying with me.

With love, respect and gratitude,

Okokon

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