How To Find A Professional Mentor

On my first trip to Nigeria back in 2006 I met a man who was unpretentious, slow, deliberate, and available.  

Abraham Dada, known simply as Pa Dada, would eventually become for me a standard-bearer of life and leadership.

He was a sage.  He was a man who lived out the challenging invitation to have “eyes to see, and ears to hear”.

Imagine if Yoda were a Nigerian man.  That’s Pa Dada.

His words were few, each one cutting consciously like a razor-sharp blade, causing little pain while exposing the inside.

Mr. Dada was never the loudest person in the room, but his presence alive, known, and decisions always traveled through his unspoken filter.  His life was spent serving... at times with words and actions, at other times with simple presence.

Each time I visited Mr. Dada at his unpretentious home in Egbe, Kogi State, he would be sitting thoughtfully in a blue plastic yard chair on the aft side of a small plastic table.  Rarely was he wearing something other than a simple linen set of shirt and trousers.  He would usually have his crooked reading glasses on while reading or writing.

Within five minutes of arrival, we would always be welcomed with a warm bitter lemon and a soft “e’kaabo” and “e’dupe”.

If I was visiting without Ashley and the kids, Mr. Dada would kindly ask, “How is Mommy?”, and of the kids, “How are my little friends?”

One of my favorite images that Ashley captured was Mr. Dada thumbing through my book.  The teacher humbly offering a generous moment for the student.  

In 2014 and 2015 Mr. Dada and I spoke often by phone when I was not in town due to some strain that was taking place within an initiative for which both he and I were committed to.  I remained in a state of foggy confusion and did not hesitate to verbalize bewilderment, and I believe Mr. Dada did as well, although he never spoke a crossword or thought to any person or scenario.  

It was a real-life, in the moment lesson in “considering others better than yourself.” It was a moment of transparent grace.

On Wednesday night October 28th my phone rang with Mr. Dada’s number.  Answering, his daughter called and said simply, “Pa Dada passed in the midnight and he wanted me to let you know.”  

“He wanted to let me know.”

Of all the conversations I remember, these may very well be the words that stick.

“He wanted to let me know.”

Two significant mentors have passed on from this life in the past decade.  The first is the man who invited me to look through the telescope of the nations and see God’s creation beyond my own borders.  Dr. Mike Barnett summoned me to embrace the nations.  

Mr. Dada invited me to enjoy the wisdom and grace God has placed among the nations and to do it slowly and methodically.

With Mr. Dada, I did not sign up for a global mentor program, and I did not ask that he formally “mentor” me.  I just went with a blurry, poorly planned vision to “work in Nigeria” and over time a friendship developed that provided me with a 5 foot 2-inch man in his nineties who just “wanted to let me know” with limited words and maximum presence.  

What is that place, or those people, or that thing that you have an unreasonable, blurry desire for?  What if you just set up lunch or booked a ticket and just went regularly so you too can look up fourteen years later and realize that you too found a true gift whose ambition was to “let me know”?

How do you find a professional mentor?  

Many times is by not signing up for the professional mentoring program and instead of being bold, proactive, courageous, and a bit unreasonable to make friends with some unlikely people who are older and more experienced than you.

Who do you need to go see today?  I wish I could go see my friend and just sit for a while.

Scott Beebe is the founder of Business On Purpose, author of Let Your Business Burn: Stop Putting Out Fires, Discover Purpose, And Build A Business That Matters.  Scott also hosts The Business On Purpose Podcast and can be found at mybusinessonpurpose.com.