Ifeanyi Odoh is feverish when I walk into his office. His voice, like stepping on broken glass, keeps drifting in and out of consciousness, a minute-by-minute lesson in insidiousness. Yet he doesn’t want to stop. “You are here already,” he says, “Let’s talk.”
Talk we do. About his morning walks. His father. His life story is well-trodden. Born in Nigeria, he went to France’s top engineering school, École Polytechnique on a scholarship—his family was not wealthy. He gloats over his wife, how he chased her all over the world — or so she says, he says.
But what really turns his kilter on is food. On this, he is both servant and savant. Yet, unlike the archetypal Nigerian, he is not in the support group of pepper. For him, there is nothing food can’t fix. There is nothing better than kienyeji chicken with fufu and egusi soup, he seems to say. He even offers an armistice to the ongoing will-the-real-jollof-rice-please-stand-up generational war. Ghanaian jollof or Nigerian jollof? “Kenyan pilau,” he says, as his fever magically or perhaps, miraculously, dissipates.
Offline, you were telling me about your culinary notions. What’s your signature meal?
Most local foods from my place I can make. I had some visitors over and I made them some. In Nigeria, we have a lot of food and soups. Different regions and tribes — about 350 tribes — and each region has its idiosyncratic meals. Some have become nationalised, which gives a lot of variety. For the equivalent of ugali here, we have more than 30 variations.
Are you a pepper person too?
Ironically, it depends on the region you are in the country. Lagos, which is on the western side of the country, ends up with a lot of pepper, the Yoruba standard of pepper. I tone it down, but luckily, I see Kenya, there is no pepper [chuckles].
Have you been to Kenya before, or did the job lead you here?
Yes, I visited for business before. I moved here some time back and have been fortunate to be exposed to different cultures. I was in Vietnam for two years.
In Vietnam, I ordered food using Google Translate [chuckles]. In each country, food is the fastest way to connect to the people.
My wife does most of the cooking, but on weekends I like to be more present in the family. On Saturdays, I’d take a walk with the children and make breakfast. I challenge most Kenyans that they have never given me an indigenous Kenyan food; the roots of say pilau or chapati trace back to Asia [chuckles].
What food immediately takes you home?
Bitter leaf, egusi, and several local foods. Garri, fufu and so many others.
What’s always in your fridge?
Haha! Many options. I enjoy Kenyan cuisine like pilau and kienyeji chicken. Jollof rice with plantains and some nice pepper goat meat, and the heart of the dish is soup with fufu. As you can see, the fridge is very dynamic. My family is multicultural: my wife grew up in France and was quite exposed to many dishes.
Did you grow up seeing your father cook?
Well, things weren’t always rosy. I am the first of many children, seven of us. My dad didn’t go to school, but he worked hard to become the breadwinner for his nuclear and extended family. Out of all of us, my sister and I are the ones who lean towards the corporate world — she is a medical doctor.
My father, through sheer resilience, started his own thing. We had what we can call a face-me-I-face-you apartment, in a community of many people, with more than 15 families sharing perhaps one toilet and a kitchen. Our village didn’t even have electricity then.
Knowing what he did not have, my father was insistent that all his children must go to school and church. He was the first to become a Christian in his family. My mum went all the way to master’s level while they were together; she just got another certificate and is even thinking of getting the professorship.
I wanted to make a difference in healthcare or energy, but due to my flair for mathematics, I had an inclination for engineering before settling for new energy. I got a full scholarship to go to France’s top school, École Polytechnique. I believe I found myself here at Schneider Electric because they share in my values to make a difference. Have I been talking for long? [chuckles] I am excited haha!
Your father seems to have been right about many things. What was he wrong about?
Haha! Interesting question. Without throwing him under the bus, one thing that wasn’t prominent in my culture then was empowering the girls.
We are three boys and four girls, and while he was clear he wanted his children to go to school, it was common in my place that women go to another family, and as much as he was eager to make sure the children went to school, he was keen to expose the boys upwards. He was wrong because my sister was the first person to get my parents to travel abroad—for her graduation, and her baby.
What is your most highly employable quality?
I never lost the drive-in entrepreneurship. We need to find ways to be part of the solution, but also learn with humility from one another. Two, I am still keen on how I can connect with the people that can make a difference — I don’t look for handouts, but people I can make things happen with. I don’t want to ever get comfortable, but stay in tune with the ordinary things that drive the economy.
What’s the one lesson you’ve taken too long to learn?
[long pause] I still consider myself a student, but we should not underestimate the power of being humble. Nigerians can be seen as confident, perhaps arrogant in some cases, but it’s important to be humble, for everyone has a story. When you are humble, you can learn and avoid pitfalls that come with success. And two, it is more up to us than to them.
What’s your idea of a good weekend?
Family. I try to wind down, but I am a workaholic, evidently [chuckles]. It is one of the easiest ways to reset myself. A good weekend is a short walk with my children, making breakfast together and getting started with the activities of the day.
On Sunday, we’ll go to church and remind ourselves why we are alive. Come back to start the process again.
What’s the soundtrack of your life now?
As soon as you mentioned it, all the Nigerian songs are popping up in my head. But it’s only two phrases: Stay Humble; Stay Focused.
What’s your favourite part about yourself?
I feel like anybody can teach me something. I try as much as possible to remain teachable and connectible to people.
What is the most personal gift you’ve received?
Frank feedback. We often underestimate it, but I will try to be direct. I like to be transparent, even when things are not going well—this is the reality, and we need to do things differently to get things moving. Straightforwardness. I have learned so much from my inferior and challenging aspects. I cherish feedback, personally and professionally.
Which is your favourite question to ask anyone?
What were your most difficult moments, and what did you learn? And how did you manage them? Can I say something small about my wife?
Very small.
We met in France. She came back to Nigeria, and will say that I was chasing her back to Nigeria, which makes for a better love story [chuckles]. We became friends, then best friends, and then eventually we married.
We are each other’s cheerleaders — she was discovering Nigeria at 20-something, while I had grown up there, left and was coming back. She started her business at some point and has always kept me in check.
We were intentional in spending time alternating with each other’s families every other Christmas. I appreciate that because it brought both families closer, and the children as well—a reason for people not to forget their roots.
