Title: A Meeting with Stella Benson: A Tale of Inspiration

Back then, one of the individuals whom I can refer to as a role model was a European player,
Stella Benson of Sweden, a formidable figure. At the tender age of 18, he had already become a
world champion in table tennis, capturing the imagination of fans around the globe. The year was
1972 when fate granted me the opportunity to meet this extraordinary athlete in his homeland,
Sweden.

The echoes of Stella Benson's triumph in the 1971 World Table Tennis Championships in
Nagoya, Japan, reverberated throughout the sports world. The news of his remarkable feat
reached me with a mix of awe and admiration. To be crowned world champion at such a young
age was a testament to his exceptional skills.

It was a sunny afternoon in the summer of 1972 when I found myself standing outside the sports
arena in Sweden. The announcer would always call his name specially, "Let's make welcome the
number one in the world! S-T-E-L-L-A BENSON!"

Aside from playing table tennis passionately, I had flair for football amongst other sports. I spent
time watching and analyzing the sport. While I didn't consider myself a professional analyst, I
would still find time to dissect every match I watched. It was just for the fun of it.

While I was still active as a table tennis player, I faced quite a few strong opponents. However,
one of the most challenging opponents I had ever locked horns with was Titus Omotara in the
National Tournament. He hailed from the Western States, and was representing Lagos State. He
is the only man I could remember from Nigeria.

And in Africa, I couldn’t forget this Ghanaian player, Joseph Kwanza, who was very skillful.
The memory of our intense competition and mutual respect left a lasting impression on me.
Then, I also played against the Czechoslovakian, Milan Olofsky during my European table tennis
tour. Our clash had been a battle of wits and technique.

These memories do I carry with me, cherishing the lessons I had learned and the friendships I
had forged. Each encounter had shaped me as a player and fueled my passion for the beautiful
game. Owing to the dominance of the Chinese players then, I had no opportunity of playing
against them. But amidst the challenge, a ray of hope emerged in the form of a talented Nigerian
player, Aruna Quadri. Aruna possessed a level of skill and potential to break through the
dominance of the Chinese players and make a name for himself on the international stage. In
recent times, Aruna had managed to match up to the skills of the Chinese players and currently
ranked among the top 10 players in the world.

At a time, I made a bold statement in the national dailies that I’d be willing to train Aruna Quadri
for free. I said that then because I knew that Aruna had expressed doubts about his national
coach then, which had sparked a fire within me. I wanted to be the one to guide him, to instill
confidence in him, and to help him reach new heights. Also, he didn’t have enough money to
engage anyone because at that level, when you engage a coach, you have to pay him knowing
fully well that you get paid at that stage too.
Beyond these two reasons, I was willing to convince the Nigerian table tennis audience that if
given the privilege, I have the technical-know-how to handle him. Money wasn’t actually what
could hold me back from rendering the free service I was willing to offer. I could pay my way
through accommodation and feeding. I was just looking for that opportunity to be on the table
with him and help him. I had the strong belief that I can do it due to my potentials. All that went
to the deaf ears of his management then I suppose.

Back then, in 1983, which was about 40 years ago, the competitors I would have loved to play
against were Atana Musa and Kasali. It would have also been an honour then to lock horns with
Sunday Eboh had not travelled to Germany to train professionally. He was already playing more
professional games because table tennis is a game that requires regular play time for you to
improve consistently.

Another fascinating thing happened in 1989, when I took some players to Germany for three
months. Over there, we were playing for about six hours every day for three months.
Technically, with those six hours in a day multiplied by three months, we played for one hundred
and ninety-two hours during our three months’ stay in Germany. Contrastingly, you can’t get that
in Nigeria in five years. You can’t play that long. That explains how many players struggle in
Nigeria. It’s pure science.

Upon returning to Nigeria, I told the Nigerian table tennis board, “These boys that I took with me
are junior players, but will undoubtedly make impact in 1990.”

They were stunned to have heard that from me. So, they were anticipating the wonders from
them. Interestingly, the four of them defeated all the so called senior players in the Nigerian
national team then in 1990. It was a landslide victory. Unfortunately, they couldn’t wait for too
long as they had to travel out because it was difficult to have sufficient playing hours in Nigeria.

Additionally, it was another challenge to reconcile playing hours with education in this country.
It is not possible to get free eight hours in Nigeria, and that is the problem. They are yet to
identify this as the problem, but that is the real issue affecting the system. Thus, sports is not
going anywhere anytime soon except football where you can decide to play it anywhere. There,
you can have good hours playing football. That’s what is responsible for players’ relocation to
the European countries in furtherance of their careers. Those hours you get for three months, you
can’t get them in five years.

Being a philanthropist has seen me donate millions of naira to former sportsmen where were
gathered under the welfare forum though there were some people, including the governor, who
felt we weren’t doing enough for these ex-patriots.

Sharing a common ground with lots of renowned sportsmen, I didn’t have mentors. I had
admirers, many of them, including Coach Elemon. He, like others, loved me for my prowess on
the field, in the world of sports. Yet, there was not a single soul who loved me enough to guide
me, to help me better my life outside the realm of sports. Then, I didn’t just want to excel in
sports. I wanted to better my life in totality. I wanted to pursue an education, do something more.

But all his advice, all his guidance was only about table tennis. It felt like a slow death,
dedicating myself to a sport that was consuming my life. The day came when I couldn't bear it
anymore. Frustration had me in its grip as I watched my friends become Permanent Secretaries.
Desperate, I left the world of sports behind, determined to find my place in the world before it
was too late.

Years later, I found myself back on the field, but not as a player. Life hadn't been kind, and I was
struggling to make ends meet. I was desperate for any opportunity, anything that could earn me a
few naira. That's when the estate business caught my eye. With my name and my integrity, I was
able to convince people to patronize my services. I worked hard to maintain my reputation, to
ensure that no one had a reason to question my integrity. And slowly, I began to rest, to find a
measure of peace.

My children, all three of them, were my beacon of hope. They, like me, had a love for sports, but
I couldn't bear to see them give up their education for it. I insisted they go to school, pursue their
education above all else. "It's either you face your education or you face sports," I would tell
them, "You can't do both." Yet, I couldn't suppress their passion for sports completely. So, I
encouraged them to combine the two, to find a balance.

"Some people don't have the ability to balance sports and academics," I would tell them, "But if
you can, do it. It's good to combine the two. It's about education. It's about reproducible skills.
It's about having a dual personality."

Seeing the struggle my children faced, I was reminded of my own journey. I recalled the six
universities in Nigeria at the time, the limited opportunities for education. I decided I wanted to
fill this vacuum with the Waheed Ẹkun Foundation, to bridge the gap between identifying
talented youngsters and encouraging them to further their education.

Because there is a vacuum, the government doesn't recognize the need to support these students.
I had to fill in this gap through scholarships, training grants, and other opportunities among
others. I help them feel more comfortable while they pursue their dreams.

And so, I found my purpose. I could use my experiences, my journey, to help others, to ensure
they did not face the same struggles I did. And in doing so, I found my peace.