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Nigerian author (AIU graduate) publishes work management book

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13TH INTERNATIONAL CONFERENCE ON Interdisciplinary Social Sciences

USDLA 2018 Annual Conference

Student Testimonials

Ambassador’s Daughter

Script written by Thomson Ng’ambi | Master of Legal Studies | PART 2/2

It didn’t take long to get used to my new home. I felt safe again —most of the time. The nightmares continued to haunt me. But during the day, I kept myself busy. Mama James (I started calling her Mama about a year after I moved in) often asked me if I wanted to talk about my family and life at the camp. I always shook my head and said no. I didn’t want to think about my mom and dad —and Natalie. And I definitely didn’t want to remember what it had been like living in the camp. A month or so after I arrived, my studies began. A private tutor came to the house five days each week. If I worked especially hard, Mrs. Susan let me draw. Nat was the brave one, but even she admitted I drew better than she did. Mama James would have friends over for tea. They were always saying how beautiful I was. At first it made me uncomfortable, but then I began to smile timidly and say thank you. Some days, I found myself in front of the mirror trying to see what they were talking about. Was I really pretty?

I was six or seven when one of Mama James’ friends suggested I enter a beauty pageant. The next few months flew by. I studied hard, drew as much as I could, and prepared for that first pageant. I don’t remember much about it except the feeling that I was going to be sick when I looked out at the audience and realized they would all be watching me. I wanted to run away, but I didn’t want to disappoint my new family. I looked down at my beautiful dress, stood up straight and walked out on stage. It was actually kind of fun. I didn’t win, but I did come in third.

Over the years, I entered more and more pageants. I made lots of friends and learned to enjoy being the center of attention. Mama James was very proud of me. I remember the feeling the first time I came in first place. I felt like a real princess. I was given lots of gifts and dozens of people wanted to take my picture and ask me questions. I was 17 when I first made it to the national pageant. I had to study living conditions beyond the walls of the compound, but it was only so I would have the “right” answers during the pageant. I never let myself think about it as real. After all, my reality was a warm home, a caring family, and more attention than anyone that age should get. There was a lot of pressure, but by then I was used to it. When I made the top 10, I thought I was dreaming. And winning the crown made me feel like I’d died and gone to heaven. Could life get any better? When I first saw Rick, I was convinced it could.

******* I don’t know how I got used to my new home, but I did. Anyone who has never been in that situation would be horrified at the thought. I always saw myself as brave and adventurous, but now I realize what a coward I was. “You were just a child,” you might argue. That isn’t much of a reason to block out what these men, the ones I came to consider family, had done to my parents and my sister. I hate to admit it, but I began to call Chuma, their leader, Father. You might think I’d see Chibote that way, but I knew he was some other little girl’s father. Besides, one day he left with the others and didn’t come back. I tried to ask about it, but no one would say anything. As I grew, I got better and better with a gun. I even learned how to handle grenades and wire a bomb. When I was about 13, Chuma asked Sunga, his right hand man, to teach me hand-tohand fighting techniques. I was determined not to disappoint anyone. I was especially determined to show myself that I could survive, that I could become as good a soldier as any of the men in the camp. I became an excellent marksman and an above average fighter. My determination intensified further when our hand-to-hand sessions took a turn for the worse. Growing up around soldiers didn’t prepare me for the way they began to look at me. There were times when I was learning to fight that I became very uncomfortable. And I don’t mean the aches and pains of being repeatedly tossed to the ground. One night, Sunga came to my tent. That was the first of many nights. I was embarrassed and ashamed. Those feelings —and the threats— kept me from saying anything. I don’t know what he said to the others, but at least no one else paid me late night visits. Thankful for that, at least, I decided I’d deal with Sunga in my own way —when I was ready.

As well as being taught combat skills, I was given a stack of books to study. (Chibote had taught me to read.) There came a time they trusted me enough to send me away to school. I kept to myself. My classmates learned very quickly not to aggravate me. One of the male students slipped his arm around my waist that first week. He ended up on the ground at my feet. After calling me a few choice names, he got up, brushed himself off, and slunk away. With no friends and very little interest in anything except my studies, I did well. My professors called me “focused” and “dedicated”. I let them think that, even though I knew better. I earned my degree in engineering and graduated at the top of my class. As often happens, the so-called rebels —otherwise known as my family— took power. They earned a certain amount of respect. Stories of how the former government had abused their families and driven them from their homes gained sympathy. While some of the stories may have been true, I knew what outsiders could not. You see, I had begun to remember what they had done to my real home and to my real family. It all began the first night Sunga came to my tent. The longer I was at school, the clearer the memories became. You might wonder why I didn’t go to the authorities. You have to understand; they had become the authorities. There was no one to turn to. I had gotten used to taking care of myself, and I intended to make them all pay —in my own way. No longer was Chuma hidden away in a mystical tent I would never dare enter. He was more than eager to show off his new office. He enjoyed the respect and attention he felt he’d earned. He was also proud to introduce me as his daughter, the engineering graduate. One day he left me alone in his office. I sat behind his desk and began leafing through the papers in the top drawer. I couldn’t believe what I found. Even now, it makes my blood run cold. He had kept my mother’s necklace, the one he tore from her neck the night he destroyed my life. Inside, was a picture of me and my sister. It took every ounce of restraint not to scream. There was a disc lying under the necklace. As much as I wanted to take the cameo, I resisted. Curiosity again got the better of me, and I slipped the disc into my jacket pocket. Just then, the door opened, and Chuma came in. Behind him was an American soldier. “Natalie, this is Captain Walker.” “Call me Rick.”

******* Rick and I never put ourselves in compromising situations. We refused to get into the same car. We always met in public places —usually with a couple of our friends. I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize my title. And Rick didn’t need some scandal linking him to a pageant queen. I was convinced we both wanted more from our relationship. It was a long and difficult year. The week before I was to relinquish my title, Rick asked me if I was sure I didn’t want to enter any more pageants. I assured him I was ready to pursue other interests, and that night I told him there were more important things in life. The day after I turned over the crown, Rick and I went on our first real date. He had made reservations at the most expensive restaurant in the city. There were a dozen roses on the table when we arrived. I had gotten used to being spoiled, but this was different. The meal was wonderful, but when dessert came, I was in for the biggest surprise of my life. I caught sight of something sparkling in the whipped cream. Right there in the restaurant, Rick got down on one knee and proposed. I sat there with my mouth open, looking from the ring to Rick and back again. “Well? Don’t keep me in suspense.” I could only nod. The people at the nearby tables clapped and cheered. I don’t think I was ever that embarrassed —or that happy. Mama James was thrilled. She liked and respected Rick. She told me he was a real gentleman and insisted on giving us a big wedding. I told her a small, private ceremony would be fine, but she wouldn’t hear of it. After our fairytale wedding, Rick took a five-day leave for our honeymoon.

For the first few months, I walked around with a big grin. I had no doubt I’d made the right decision. No pageant had ever made me that happy. I was able to ignore the reality going on all around me. Memories of my first five years cowered in the shadows— like I had cowered under my bed. I refused to listen to the radio or watch television. Rick would be gone for days, sometimes weeks at a time, but I kept myself busy. Four months after we got married, I found out I was pregnant. I wasn’t sure I was ready for motherhood, but I was excited about having Rick’s baby. After a particularly difficult mission, he sat me down and laid it on the line. “Lisa, my love, as much as I don’t want to, I have to send you away.” I was too shocked to reply, but my look said everything I couldn’t. He held both my hands in his. “It’s not that I want to, but, I…I just can’t have you raising our child here. Things are so uncertain. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you or the baby.” “Where will I go?” My voice was just above a whisper, and I didn’t even try to hold back the tears. Rick wiped them away and said, “My family back in the States has agreed to have you come and stay with them.” I was shocked. “I thought you meant you wanted me to stay with Mama. The States? Are you serious?” I felt hurt and rejected. How could he send me away? He pulled me to my feet and wrapped his arms around me. “I don’t want you to go, Lisa, but there’s no other way. I’ll be finished my tour of duty soon, and we can start a life in the U.S. —you, me and our baby.” I nodded. “If you’re sure.” “I am, Baby. I am.”

******* Captain Walker was very tall and very handsome. The men in my life had proven untrustworthy and unable to take care of me. From a young age, I vowed to look after myself. But there was something about this American soldier, a kindness in his eyes. I had heard about silly women who did stupid things when it came to men. I never imagined I would become one of them. Rick came to Chuma’s office often. Though I would never have admitted it, I hoped it was because he wanted to see me. It became clear that was one of the reasons. About a month after our first meeting, he asked me out to dinner. I consented, but was very confused when he said I should wear casual clothes and be ready by 2:00 in the afternoon. After an hour-long drive, we ended up in a remote area that Rick said American soldiers had used for weapons training. “Your father tells me you can handle yourself pretty well.” I cringed when he called Chuma “my father”, but I nodded in response to his question.

Rick handed me his pistol and pointed out a target that was barely visible. He seemed impressed when I hit it dead center. We spent several hours trying to outdo one another. By 5:00, Rick was ready to admit I might, just might, be the better shot. “Remind me to stay on your good side,” he said as we climbed into the Jeep. When he announced we were still going out to dinner, I understood why he’d told me to bring a change of clothes. The evening went well. When he took me back to my place, I very much wanted to invite him inside, but I didn’t —not that night, at least. We dated off and on for about a year. However, there were times when I wouldn’t see Rick for weeks at a time. I wouldn’t even hear from him. He was a soldier, after all. He had things to do, and so did I. I’d made a copy of the disc I found in Chuma’s desk and returned the original the day after I met Rick. I wasn’t ready to go into hiding, which is exactly what I would have been forced to do if Chuma discovered the disc missing. The disc documented atrocities the former government had been involved in. It even mentioned the murder of Chibote’s wife and children. (No wonder he had been involved in the plot to overthrow them.) It also contained evidence of links between organized crime in the U.S. and top ranking officials. I couldn’t figure out why my family had been murdered by Chuma’s men. The evidence was far more damning for the deposed authorities.

My questions didn’t last very long. By the time I’d finished going through everything, I learned both Sunga and Chuma were also under investigation. At that moment, I very much wanted to avenge the murder of my mother and father and sister —a desire I fought every day. However, I knew it was best to allow the U.N. to deal with it. I would give them the disc when the time was right, when I knew I would be safe. For about six or seven months, I didn’t hear from Rick at all. Then, one night, he showed up on my doorstep with a bottle of my favorite wine. I just stood there for a moment —confused. “Well, are you going to invite me in?” he asked. “Sure, I just haven’t seen you in a while.” “I know. I’m sorry about that. I’ve just been very busy…” Rick cleared his throat, and he looked like he wanted to say more, but he didn’t continue. Over the next few months, we saw a lot of each other. We even talked about moving in together, but that wouldn’t work. His commanding officer would never allow it —and neither would my so-called father. Plus, I wasn’t sure about it myself. Rick was moodier than he’d ever been. I’d ask him why, but he’d just shrug his shoulders and say nothing was wrong. We were both very upset when he had to relocate, but we made plans to meet at the Hilton when Rick was in the city. That certainly didn’t go as planned.

******* Of course, I wished Rick was with me, but his family was great. They’d prepared a nursery for the baby. The walls were painted pale yellow. The wallpaper, bedding and curtains all had pictures of baby animals on them. My motherin- law said she wanted her grandchild’s world to be bright and happy. I thought I knew what it meant to be spoiled, but I was mistaken. I only had to make a passing reference to a food I found appealing, and it was available at the next meal. A fan for my room. An extra blanket. Paper and colored pencils for drawing. I didn’t mean to be demanding, but everything I asked for was provided. I went to prenatal classes with Rick’s sister Sharon. Sharon was expecting her third child. She and I grew very close. Although we were from different worlds, we had much in common. After all, we were family. I also made several friends in class, including Marcy. We would often meet for lunch. She talked to me about growing up on a farm then moving to the city when she was in her teens. She wanted to know everything about my childhood. She’d never been more than 100 miles from the town where she was born and couldn’t imagine life in another country. When Marcy started pressing for details, the nightmares returned. I’d blocked them out for so long. I had almost convinced myself that the memories were nothing but a bad dream, but somewhere deep inside I knew the horrifying images that would invade my sleep were more than that. I never mentioned the dreams to anyone. I would act as though everything was wonderful.

The months passed quickly, and soon I was holding a beautiful baby girl in my arms. Then things really were wonderful. Rick and I talked the day she was born. He told me how much he missed me and how he couldn’t wait to meet our little princess. He said there were some things he had to wrap up before he could come back to the States. We spoke every week, and each time Rick insisted he’d be home soon. I decided I couldn’t wait for him to come to me. When Leisha was only two months old, I booked a ticket back to Africa. Although I would miss her terribly, I didn’t want to take the baby with me. I knew her grandparents, aunts and uncles would take good care of her while I was gone. And Mama James had already planned a trip to meet her newest grandchild. I only planned to stay in Africa for a week or two. I was exhausted when I arrived in the city and decided to spend the night at a hotel before locating Rick. Little did I know, he was staying in the same hotel —but he wasn’t alone.

******* I swore never to depend on a man for anything —and then Rick came along. He was attentive and allowed me to be myself. (Who else would take me to a weapons range on our first date?) He treated me like a woman —and a warrior. He seemed intrigued by my engineering job —something I knew bored most people, except other engineers. Not to mention the fact that Rick was extremely attractive. These were all contributing factors that made me agree to meet him at the hotel… even though I wasn’t sure where our relationship was headed. Those doubts were confirmed that night. Quiet music. Champagne. Soft lighting. We were sitting on the sofa. Rick leaned over to kiss me, and she walked in. They obviously gave her the wrong key. “Excuse me?” Rick said as he looked toward to door. I’ll never forget her expression. She looked devastated. She burst into tears and ran from the room. I began to ask what it was all about, but Rick was up and out of the room before I could say anything. I figured, being the gentleman he was, he wanted to find out what was wrong. When I found out she was his wife, I felt like the stupidest person on the planet. Of course he was going to let me down. He was a man, after all. The next time I saw either of them was in the courtroom. Rick was being sued for divorce. When the judge entered the room, he had the strangest look on his face. Then he asked to talk to Rick’s wife and me in his chambers. I was confused, and from the look on her face, so was she. “Natalie Martin?” I nodded. “Mrs. Walker, was your maiden name Martin as well?” I looked over at her, confused. She was nodding her head slightly. “This is most definitely the strangest case that has ever come into my courtroom,” the judge said. “Nat?” Lisa squeaked. “Lisa?” We turned to the judge. “But how did you know?” I asked. “I knew your father, girls. Lisa, you look very much like your mother. And, Natalie, you are unmistakably your father’s daughter.” Lisa burst into tears. Later she told me that, in that moment, all the memories she had tried to bury came flooding back. Tears and Lisa —typical. But not so typical was my response. I felt the tears welling up in my own eyes. All of a sudden, the reason we were there didn’t matter. Rick was all but forgotten. The judge asked Lisa, “Shall we go ahead with today’s proceedings?” She shook her head. “Not right now. I have to get caught up with… with my sister.” Lisa threw her arms around me. At first I wanted to push her away. Then all my protective instincts kicked in, and I hugged her back. The look on Rick’s face when we emerged from the judge’s chambers still makes me laugh. We didn’t bother to explain. We just walked out of the courtroom arm in arm.

******* I was angry and hurt. I thought my world was falling apart. But then the judge called Nat and I into his chambers. That day turned out very differently than I’d expected. My sister and I are getting to know one another again. I’m going to church and slowly realizing God can heal my hurts. I decided to give Rick another chance. Our little girl deserves a father. It hasn’t been easy to forgive him, but he is trying to make our marriage work. Plus, he fell in love with our little girl the first time he saw her. Nat came back to the States with us. She hasn’t said much, but I know she’s keeping an eye on Rick. I guess, in one way or another, she’ll always be my protector.

******* That was some day! Though Rick had found an opening, I was determined to reinforce the wall I’d build around my emotions. Then the judge reintroduced me to my sister, and I realized that wasn’t going to happen. Lisa convinced me to move back to the States with them. It was a difficult decision, but it did give me the opportunity I needed to drop off my father’s disc at the U.N. My plans for revenge had been derailed, but in the end, it was best to let the authorities deal with Chuma, Sunga, and my would-be family. In a way, I guess it was my sister who rescued me. I’d always considered myself the brave one, but in time, Lisa forgave Rick. She said she had to try to make it work for their little girl. Apparently, Rick’s family had been taking her to church and she’d discovered that God can heal even the deepest hurts. At first, I thought it was just another sign of weakness. But as I watched her, I realized maybe she was brave after all. I’ve been watching Rick, too. He seems to be changing. Something about seeing his little girl for the first time probably made him realize just how much he had to lose. I’m settling into my new home. Lisa and I get together every week. Sometimes, I even go to church with her. I guess my baby sister doesn’t need a protector anymore. Maybe, I’ll just work on being her friend.
The End

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Update on effective demand research at AIU

Edward Lambert | AIU Academic Coordinator

The famous economist John Maynard Keynes tried to put forth a theory of effective demand. Keynes even devoted chapter 3 of his most well-known book to it. However, nowadays you will not see the term effective demand in economic textbooks. What happened to it? Keynes laid down some basic ideas about effective demand but did not give specific equations. It is clear that Keynes distinguished effective demand from aggregate demand. Still modern economists equate effective demand with aggregate demand. This is a mistake. Now we only see the term aggregate demand in textbooks.

Consequently, there is a missing piece of economic theory that is still yet to be found. What then is effective demand? Will we ever have a workable model for it? Developing a model of effective demand was my doctoral work at AIU back in 2013. I came up with a simple equation: The equation basically says that the percentage of national income going to labor (labor share) will be greater than the multiple of the utilization rates of capital capacity and labor. The equation reflects ‘demand’ through a relative amount of money given to labor (labor share) as opposed to money given to those who own capital. Capital income at a macro level depends on selling to those who do not have capital income. Certainly many economists would say there is no difference between money spent in the economy from capital and labor incomes. However, capital production is ultimately directed towards a final consumption by people who make up labor. The equation also reflects an ‘effective’ limit upon production by saying that the income of final consumption sets a limit how firms utilize their capital and employment. Capital income then measures its production according to the relative strength of labor income. Thus, if people are paid less, they demand less, and firms would have to produce less for them. On the other hand, if people are paid more, they can demand more, and firms would have to increase production. So, there is a relationship of mutual dependence between labor income and capacity utilization. The equation I use above says the dependence has a limit. So, when the limit of labor share falls, it will push down capacity utilization. Do we see this relationship in the data? Here is data for the United States since 1969 to the 2nd quarter of 2017. (quarterly data) (See Chart) Yes… the equation holds in the data. The blue line sees resistance at 0% shown by the horizontal red line.

When I did my doctoral work at AIU in 2013, the blue line had not yet reached the red line. Other economists were skeptical that the line would stop at a zero lower bound. They did not think the equation was valid. Then in 2014, the blue line bounced off the effective demand limit of labor share, as my equation predicted. Since then it has risen and is once again heading down toward the limit. I am now watching the blue line to see if it hits resistance again on the lower red horizontal line. We should know within a year. If we see resistance again, the evidence for my equation gets stronger.

There are many applications for this model if it is proven. It could help determine monetary policy. It could determine the true Potential real GDP. It could explain limits upon macro-productivity. It would foresee trouble spots in the stock markets. There are more applications beyond these. So far, the evidence is supporting my model of effective demand. This discovery would be revolutionary in the field of economics. It would be no small matter to finally break the code of Keynes’ effective demand. A whole new area of research would open up in economics. This unique and creative model for effective demand is a product of the educational approach here at AIU. All students are encouraged to develop their visions. We are here to support your discoveries.

Words of gratitude

Silvina Judit Maravankin | Student of Master in Art History

Today I would like to dedicate a few words of thanks. I want to thank the pillar of support and companion of my path through AIU, my dear and esteemed adviser Dr. Rosa Hilda Lora. I want to also thank Alba Ochoa, Dr. José Mercado and specially to Dr. Ricardo González. Since the beginning of my journey at AIU I had the immense fortune to relate to wonderful people.

I can say that it was and it continues being a joy and blessing for me to know that they are always there for me when I need them to guide me and support me, even when we are so far and in virtual mode. I know that behind a computer, there are people who are interested and happy about the achievements of others.

As an adult, going back to school was an important decision and a great challenge for me. It was to put myself in a challenge, besides the search of new horizons and hopes. In my long professional career I had the opportunity to meet many people and one of those people has recently returned to my life.

Things were happening in such a way that thanks to my BA in Art History at AIU —and the career that I am continuing with the Master in the same area— I have opened the doors of a new work opportunity: recently, a renowned Miami Contemporary Art Gallery (Valli Art Gallery) has invited me to be its Public Relations Coordinator for Europe and Israel. For me it is a great emotion and joy, since it means my tangibly entrance in the art world that I love so much. Because of this collaboration that is just being born, I will travel to Miami in December 2017 to take part in the events of the International Exhibition of Modern and Contemporary Art called “Art Basel”. This art gallery, has a tremendous work introducing contemporary art in the United States from other parts of the world.

Also generates collaborations with other institutions, public and private museums and international curators. The gallery constantly creates initiatives and traveling exhibitions in different American cities for the promotion of the Italian art and culture from the Second World War thanks to the constant communication with cultural institutions, universities and schools, it is also dedicated to the artistic professional training of the new generations. I think all this achievements came because I was able to plan and design my Curriculum during my Bachelor and Master program. It boost my career once I earned my degree.

This work opportunity reflects my direct relationship with the social contribution and the disclosure for the common good, altruistic and philanthropic objectives also supported by AIU. All my gratitude, respect and deep appreciation to all, I feel honored.

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