Dateline Abidjan: The senate president and Pathe’O

It was breakfast time, one of my favourite meals of the day, at the Tiama Hotel, Plateau Abidjan. The spread was delightful—pastry, oatmeal, cereal, fresh juices, an egg station, yoghurt, plenty of fruits, and some grilled chicken, among other things. Breakfast was my time to slow down, enjoy some quiet, and, if I had company, engage in a nice chat over a stunning meal.

With a great view of lush greenery, and between mouthfuls of orange juice and cheese croissant, I could indulge in my favourite pastime—people-watching.

Oh, and the staff! Always polite and eager to help. Between my broken French and their hesitant English, we’d exchange friendly banter, completing my breakfast ritual. Each day began with mouthwatering delights and a renewed sense of purpose.

On this particular day, I approached the reception to drop off my keys before heading to breakfast and then to explore the sights and sounds of Abidjan. However, the entrance to the restaurant was abuzz with security personnel. Having worked in such environments for over four decades, I instantly sensed the presence of a Very Very Important Person (VVIP) who had either arrived or was expected.

As usual, I found my spot by the window, where the meticulously arranged shrubs provided a relaxing view. I noticed a flurry of activity among the staff, and soon enough, the answer became clear. Security personnel hurried to the entrance as an elegant woman stepped into the restaurant. She was clad in a traditional “jupe et chemise,” a classic Ivorian style in grey and wine.

Her couturier was a genius—solid floral motifs in wine adorned the right side of her blouse, while the left featured a subtle scattering of crystals, far from the ordinary. The waistline of her dress was accentuated with neat knife pleats, and her six-piece skirt draped slightly longer at the back. Her wavy, short hairstyle framed her face perfectly. She greeted the waiters in a soft, melodic voice, “Bonjour tout le monde.”

From my panoramic vantage point, I took in every detail, as any seasoned journalist would. She ascended a short staircase to a more secluded part of the restaurant for a meeting with a man I couldn’t clearly see. Her aides hovered nearby, ensuring she was comfortable.

Curious, I beckoned my favourite waiter for information. His reply was succinct: “Président du Sénat.” My curiosity turned to awe—it was Her Excellency Mme Kandia Kamissoko Camara, the first female President of the Senate of Côte d’Ivoire.

Where is Nigeria in this conversation? But that’s a thought for another day.

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A former Minister of Foreign Affairs, a teacher, and a politician, Mme Camara had reached this pinnacle after a remarkable career. I considered asking for an interview but opted instead for an introduction. Her meeting concluded, and as she exited the restaurant, she stopped to say hello.

“Enchantée, madame,” I said. She replied in a stream of French, of which I only caught, “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”

“Je ne comprends pas français très bien,” I admitted. Then, switching to English, I said, “I’m trying my best.”

She wasn’t having it. “You started in French; continue,” she said with a laugh. We both burst out laughing.

Mme Camara exuded warmth and charm, qualities that undoubtedly contributed to her success. As she bid me farewell with “Enjoy Abidjan,” I couldn’t help but admire her. Côte d’Ivoire was in capable hands.

Later that evening, on the 23rd floor of my hotel, I enjoyed caramel and vanilla ice cream while gazing at Abidjan’s glittering nightscape. What a day!

The next day brought another extraordinary encounter. Years ago, while travelling in Libreville, Gabon, during the presidency of H.E. Omar Bongo, I had discovered a boutique owned by Africa’s renowned fashion designer, Pathe’O. I bought a bespoke long skirt and blouse, a piece I had cherished ever since.

Back in Abidjan, I found myself in the atelier of Monsieur Lampe Fall, a highly respected Senegalese designer. He was sketching designs for my fabrics while my mother, H.E. Mrs. Ajoke Murtala Muhammed, admired his work. Suddenly, Pathe’O himself walked in!

I couldn’t contain my excitement. Pathe’O, the father of Ivorian fashion and designer to global icons like Nelson Mandela and Aliko Dangote, stood before me. He was gracious and humble, embodying the wisdom that true greatness needs no airs.

We chatted briefly, took photos, and he left as quietly as he had arrived. It was a profound lesson in humility.

Towards the end of my stay, I was introduced to Monsieur Umar of Umar Couture. A Burkinabe like Pathe’O, he spoke warmly about Nigeria and casually revealed that he had designed many of the iconic outfits worn by H.E. Mrs. Stella Obasanjo, Nigeria’s former First Lady.

What an incredible holiday Abidjan had turned out to be!