MY HERO

Don't meet your heroes, they say. Why? What are they afraid of, the discovery that they too are humans just like us or that they are nothing like us? I understand the wariness of bursting that bubble but who wouldn't want to take the bet on that risk? I met one of my heroes before he'd become one and little did I know that some of our conversations would predicate the actions that I would come to admire about him.

We were kids in a catholic, boarding, middle school in Africa with dreams of helping people. I wanted to be an engineer or an architect when I grew up, so I could make or design nice things that could be useful and help alleviate poverty and he wanted to become a physician to cure disease and alleviate pain. We talked about ways we would help mankind, how we could pair up together and do great things. Those conversations happened over two years in the mid nineties and we were both teen agers. We lost touch in 1996!

In the fall of 2017, I received a text: Hey, it's Manny. I heard you live in Chicago now and I will be in town for a convention... I wonder if you'd have the time to catch up with an old friend!?

I met with him in the restaurant of the hotel that hosted the convention, where also, he would stay while he was in town. A lot happened quickly. We'd barely gotten over the excitement of reconnecting after twenty-one years before he was introducing me to all these brilliant, benevolent souls in medicine. He'd become a doctor, a heart surgeon! He was still as popular with his peers as I remembered him and everyone we met complemented his keynote delivery at the convention. I never sat at a table where I felt lost for larger parts of conversations beyond the small talk. When those people went to their rooms, we went out on the town. Two nights of catching up, no sleep. Then he left town. But not before inviting me out to New York to his TED Talk.

I was proud of his accomplishments and even more impressed by what he remembered about our plans. He invited me more of his speaking engagements and then I began to see the big picture.

Dr Emmanuel Fombu, MBA, was literally living the dream: He travelled the world advocating his causes through speaking engagements, sat on multiple renowned, advisory boards and was a venture philanthropist in addition to being an accomplished surgeon, and writer of two healthcare books. He helped fundraise for my own cause, childhood hunger, during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic while working on the frontlines at a hospital. I have no clue how he does it.

Then my wife got infected and he was in touch everyday endorsing our every move and counseling from New York. Did I mention I live in Chicago now? I know the pandemic has made virtual interactions the norm so that may not seem quite impressive but given all the things he finds time to do, I am simply in awe. My wife was severely ill and we were afraid she might not make it. But he was there to be a physician, my old, hilarious friend, and our entertainment for up to 45 mins one day. I can't even imagine how he kept his sense of humor when all we heard about New York were deaths, mass graves and refrigerated trucks. How did he do it?

He had all these media appearances to help inform New Yorkers, and citizens of Cameroon, a country in central Africa. Then he had to go into work at what once was the epicenter of COVID-19 in the United States. When he was done work, he went home to his wife and kids, checked his email, attend virtual board meetings or other media engagements and still have time, daily, to check in on us!

Recently, I joked about him doing what we said we'd do and accomplishing so much that it thwarts my little volunteering here and there and fundraising endeavors. He sent me a reply via text that reminded me of his drive, our drive. It was a quote we used as kids to define who we were. It was simple but profound by the late, great Jackie Robinson: A life is not important except in the impact it has on other lives!