Prose Lines Of An Olympic Medallist The Guardian 30th Nov. 2006

Who says sportsmen can't write? Perhaps, that is true but not with Enefiok Udo-Obong. Udo-Obong is a two time-Olympic medallist; three time-national champion in the 400m, as well as a six-time medallist in the National Sports Festival. He was named Nigerian Sportsman of the Year in 2000 and winner of the Dele Udo Prize in Athletic Achievement (400 m) in 2002. He was also nominated as one of the 50 Most Influential Young Africans by Africa Digest that same year. Udo-Obong was captain of the Nigerian team to the 2002 Commonwealth Games. Now, this what many of his fans know about him. They do not know the other side of the story. Udo-Obong is also a writer. A member of the Association of Nigerian Authors, (ANA), the medallist is a graduate of the University of Calabar with a B.Sc. in Human Anatomy. He is very active in community service. For this, he founded the Silver Lining Foundation which promotes the education of talented sports people. In his autobiographical and motivational book, The Silver Lining, his first book, which proceeds will go to the foundation, the sportsman explains to UDUMA KALU, his foray into literary creativity as well those defining moments that capped his career in Sydney. Enjoy it.

WHO the hell is Enefiok Udo-Obong?

Perhaps, this is old question. But that was on the lips of millions of people that watched the slim built fair complexioned Nigerian beat some of the best in the world to clinch the silver medal for his country The venue was the 2000 XXVII Olympics in Sydney, Australia. But first, the medallist is also a writer. And it is his blood.

"I have loved writing and the foundations of my education encouraged me to do so. One other great reason why I wrote is to remove the stigma of people saying that sportsmen and women are illiterates. A well educated person can seek his or her dreams ...whatever it is....Whether in politics or sports or music, we should encourage all. That is why I have founded an NGO called African Sports Support and Education Trust (ASSET) which will encourage education amongst sports men and women ..see www.asset-ng.org which the Saturday guardian spoke about in its issue on the 9th of December.

" My style of writing is to make easy reading to the public and a wide gap of audience...without being too austere and still keeping some form of literary taste."

But the books while it reads like an autobiography, also reads like a motivational text. Why the mixture?

"I wrote this book as a source of inspiration for all Nigerian youths who have a dream and require some form of motivation....good for athletes and sportsmen but not just them...everyone," he began.

" Its motivational but using my own experience in the biggest stage in the world...The Olympics. It just shows how someone totally Nigerian produced and trained can meet up in a world class environment...the world class standards."

He also reacted to accusation that he fasciantion by the lure of winning. "On why I speak so much about winning?...Well, winning is not the most important thing in the world we live in today.... It is the ONLY thing. The winner is immortalized and losers are forgotten.... In every aspect of the world today we must strive to excel.... That is why it's all that matters in economics, politics etc. However morals and fair play must be considered while pursuing success. This is where the book speaks so much about hard work."

And he loves reading too. And wants to encourage it.

"I hope I can encourage people to read and enjoy themselves while aiming high in whatever field of endeavor they do. Reading is one thing that differentiates the ordinary from the extra ordinary person."

His Dream
I grew up in Nigeria but have been very much influenced by the American ways and style having spent most of my athletic career training in the USA. There younger athletes and professionals learn from the mistakes and gallant successes of the older or retired colleagues. This ensures continuity and quicker way to success. These influences are mainly transferred from one person to another via books and journals and this unfortunately we do not have back home. I am hoping that The Silver Lining will help this problem in a way. It is my dream that this book will be widely read by all in schools, colleges and in establishments where performances of the highest level are required."

The conversation then veered into his sports career. Here is returns to his early life, down to the time he won the silver medal for Nigeria.

The Beginning
There was always this urge to do better than the other. The rivalry was intense - emotionally tense - comparable to any top flight professional sports rivalry today. The rival could have been anyone - but it was between two cousins. That was how Mfon and I grew up, in a spirit of competition. In anything we did, there had to be someone smiling with victory. No matter how trivial the competition was, we would battle hard. Even when we had to do things together, we always tried to outdo each other. There was always an informal declaration of war.

On this particular day things were different. The combat was formal. One must do better than the other. And this day, the winner would not only get bragging rights but also a box of chocolates and candies too. It was the children's race in a charity sports competition The distance was only 40 metres, but for us, it was very long. There were about 10 other children running, but that did not matter. As far as we were concerned only two people were in the race.

The build-up to the race was like that of any other major competition. With total concentration and apparent non-chalance. Winning was not just the main thing, it was the only thing, and we grew up to believe that. The physical reward was inconsequential compared to the pride that went with winning. That was the kind of environment in which I was brought up. In any endeavour, be it sports, arts or academics, I had to win. My father, a university professor, and my mother, a strict teacher taught me so. I recall once when I missed an algebra sum that cost me the top position in my class, I was made to sacrifice a week of playtime doing extra lessons at home. It was an obsession - to be at the top; to win; to strive for excellence. I would argue with my teachers when I felt I was scored too low in any subject. Outside the classroom it was the same thing. I had a frail, lanky body which was sometimes a good target for bullies, but all that stopped when we went out to the field for physical education classes. I would run faster, jump higher and throw further than the biggest boys in the school. There was nothing I would accept as impossible, as long as it was competitive, I would give it a shot. I had no limitations. Surprisingly, I had learnt at a tender age that the only limits one has are those one sets for oneself.

My mother showed equal affection for everyone no matter how one behaved or performed. May be this is best described as the heart of a woman. With my father, it was different. He openly preferred the child that succeeded - the one that made him proud. Even if that preference was just for the moment, it was always worth it. And this was the moment of pleasure that always drove me to excellence.

And oh! The race! It is not a memory I cherish. I lost to Mfon. It was my first taste of defeat and one that I never wanted to taste again. At such a tender age, I knew the pain of failure but really did not comprehend the lessons to be learnt. It would be years later before I learnt the lessons which strengthened me for bigger tasks.

After that defeat at the tender age of there, I continued to compete actively in primary school sports and I went for almost seven years without defeat. Then in primary five, I lost again. I was second in the prestigious 100m race. And now the defeat tasted really bad. This was not because I lost, but to whom I lost. A rival in both sports and academics. I became second-rate to him. Segun was physically bigger than I was but to me that was no excuse. I soon put the defeat behind me and went to work. I worked harder and did better than he did in academics that year, and in the following year, I won the race by over 10 meters. It was an incredible win which was due to raw determination and hard work.

One important factor here was the parental support I received during my formative years. My mother was always the chief cheerleader in the crowd at every one of my races. Her physical presence was invaluable. Love enhances success. When the one you love is by you, it is easier to endure the long and tortuous roads to success. Education was the centre point of my childhood. I am grateful for that. It does not only show one how to succeed, it teaches you how to handle the various levels of success. My father did not particularly encourage my active participation in sports, but he never discouraged me and was always proud when I succeeded. However, when it came to education, his interest was keen for both his immediate and extended family. Ironically, education played a big part in shaping my sporting career.

I grew up to understand the wholesome nature of education. The classroom, the fields, the company and the everyday activities were what made up education. In other words, you learnt how to keep your mind, body and soul refined. This was what made me take every activity in school as a challenge"

EXCERPTS FROM BOOK

"ON YOUR MARKS!" in Sydney

"The flood lights seemed to descend on the eight runners as they crouched down on their marks as if they were the lead actors in a theatrical drama. The piercing look of the over 240,000 eyes of the viewing spectators could be felt from where I stood. I dared not look. I just stared over at the stadium. Even the flags of the over 200 nations seemed to stop waving as the air became absolutely motionless.

"SET..."

"The stentorian voice of the starter echoed from every loud speaker in the stadium. I looked at Chukwu again and just prayed that he got the basics rights. Do not beat the gun. Unlike me he was no tyro. He had competed at the highest level and had raced against the best. There was really no need to panic. But...

"BANG!"

My thoughts were interrupted by the reverberating sound of the gun. The echoes were, however, soon drowned by the screams of the watching fans as they urged the athletes on, especially the Austrian team. I fixed my eyes on Chukwu and watched his progress as he ran through the race. He did a very good job keeping pace with the pack, and by the time he handed over the baton to Jude Monye, we were still in the race.

Monye did his bit and improved on Chukwu's split of 45.2 seconds to run 44.6 seconds. However, the American, Bahamas and Jamaican teams were in good shape and were returning very decent times too. So by the time the third leg runners took over, they were in that order with Nigeria two metres further down in fourth position.

Then the race referee called for the anchor leg runners to take their positions. As we were called in the order in which our maters were arriving, I closed my eyes...

"THE USA, Bahama, Jamaica...Nigeria..."

My mind started its activity. Everyone of my team mates had done his job. It was now left to me. My head was hot. I started going over everything I had learnt in the last few weeks. Watch out for technicalties. Do not cross the exchange zone line. Do not interrupt other runners. Be strong on the exchange. Put your feet firmly on the ground

"Then I saw it all. I saw my life flash before my eyes. I saw the pain of injury, the anguish of failure, the horror of disappointments that I had gone through in the last one year. I saw the hard work, the effort, the sacrifices I made to get to where I was. I was determined but more importantly, angry. Angry at not having been paid any training grant, angry at not getting the respect I deserved from my team officials. Angry at the press for showing open bias for Michael Johnson at the start of the race. Angry at our not even getting a mention as race favourites despite our impressive semi-final run. Angry that my legs were feeling heavy and would not move. I continued to fight against the fatigue on my legs. I concentrated all the energy from my anger and put it into the race.

It was sheer grit and grind. The realization that this was a moment of history. A moment that could make or mar my career. I could feel the burden of the weight of the nation on my shoulders at that particular moment. It was Nigeria's final event at the Olympics. I was the country's final hope to put some sort of respectability to its Olympic participation.

"Run as if the Lord is at the finish..." Egbunike had told me in his usual pious manner before the race... and I did. I gave it my all. It was here and now that the little 'extra' at training counted.

I needed to run faster than the one or two athletes ahead of me to win a medal. They were much more mature and experienced athletes but now as I began to believe I could do it, then my legs responded. I began gaining momentum. I had just 100 metres left to salvage the race.

Meanwhile, the battle ahead of me was an interesting one. And as I ran I could see it all. Danny McFarlane from Jamaica was in a fierce battle with Christopher Brown from the Bahamas who was in the second position. Their struggle was intense. The Jamaican, obviously feeling a little bit stronger, ran towards the outside of Brown in order to overtake him. On his part, Christopher Brown ran towards his right, blocking off the Jamaican and making him do a lot more work.

Then, in a split second, I saw my opportunity. It is often said that opportunity knocks only once, if that is true, here was the knock. Christopher Brown had, in his vain attempt to stop McFarlane from passing him, left the inside lane free. As he moved to his right, I saw the opening on his left. What a stroke of luck. It was not just sheer luck. It was luck that resulted from hard work meeting opportunity. I propelled my arms and as if pushed by a strong tail wind, I accelerated.

It was a perfect opportunity...and at a perfect time...on a perfect day. My target was to run past Christopher Brown. And I did so. Running through the inside lane, I pushed on and on and did not give up, even when I had passed him. I was in top gear and could not even slow down. At my peripheral vision, I saw Danny McFarlane. He had also passed Christopher Brown but was tiring...I gave one more 'extra'. The 'extra' zeal. The 'extra' push...

"It's Silver!"

It was Monye's scream as my team mates leaped with joy, hugging me as I crossed the finish line. In truth, I did not know what my position was. I just knew I had done something special. Extreme pride and absolute joy filled me. My thoughts went to my mother for encouraging me to keep to sports; my father for not discouraging me; my coach for keeping faith in me; my friends for their support; for Hyginus Anugo,...I could finally dedicate something to his memory. My thoughts went through everything. To those who denied me any training grant, to Adeyemi Wilson for motivating me...to myself, for lifting the burden of expectation. All these things flashed through my complex cranial matter just the second I crossed the finish line. And I shouted for joy. When I realised the height of my achievement, I broke down and wept uncontrollably. It was the only way I could express myself. My team mates picked me up, congratulating me with pats on the back and words of acknowledgement. Slowly, I started to get hold of my emotions and became aware of the environment. The whole stadium was struck with the excitement of the satisfaction of watching a great race. I looked up at the electronic score board. The Americans had won convincingly with two minutes 56.35 seconds.

My split time of 44.1 seconds had helped Nigeria to second position with 2 minutes 58.68 seconds. Boldly written beside our time was the inscription: AR African Area Record. We had achieved our goal of a medal and a record which coach Egbunike believed we could, erasing his own achievements in the 1984 Olympic Bronze medal and 4 x 400 metres African Record of two minutes 59.29 seconds. Jamaica was third, a position they were disappointed with and they quickly left the stadium without celebrating.

Proudly holding our national flag, Chukwu, Monye, Bada and I took a victory lap and joined the numerous fans and fellow Nigerian athletes that were present and celebrating. A silver medal. An African record. I smiled. It had all ended perfectly...after all it was a perfect day.

Everything was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Copies of this action packed novel can be obtained at;

Nu METRO bookstore,Silverbird Galleria, Ahmadu Bello Way Lagos.

Sheraton Hotel, Abuja

For more information on where you can buy the book please write to sales@asset-ng.org