2012年4月19日星期四

Inventor seeks support

Kingsley Offiong Ekpe is used to taking long walks. Ever since he left school abruptly 18 months ago, there has been nothing but boredom. To kill time, he takes to the roads most of the time, patrolling the neighbourhood like a politician on the stump but without the obligatory backslaps and glad-handing.

There isn’t much to look at in Tedi community, Lagos State where he lives with a cousin, Charles Otum. Apart from the countless commercial motorcyclists meandering here and there, goats and sheep lying indolently on the mostly sandy Tedi roads, there isn’t much to draw your attention. But that is for ordinary folks. Though a drop-out,Promat solid RUBBER MATS are the softest mats on the market! Kingsley seems to have a keen sense for the unusual.

In his daily rounds around Tedi and nearby communities, the 26-year-old saw what seemed obvious to others, which they had always taken for granted anyway. As is the practice, most houses have their PHCN bills pasted on their walls or fences so that when officials of the electric firm come calling, they know at a glance who has paid and who is defaulting.

Kingsley noticed that some of the bills were in various stages of disintegration; some were glued to fences with cellotape; some washed off completely by torrential downpours or bleached to an indelible blur by the scorching sun. Some houses had no bills at all – a source of constant bickering between residents and PHCN officials who threaten to disconnect users if bills are not properly accounted for.

"An idea immediately came to me that such rift between consumers and PHCN officials can be avoided if you have something like a protective plastic cover cut slightly more than the size of PHCN bills where they could be attached to walls or fences," Kingsley said.

Though not a design student, Kingsley immediately set to work. Days after, he had what he thought he wanted, a drawing of a slide that you can screw to walls or fences where bills will fit in snugly. Also not an engineer, somebody had to bring Kingsley’s design to life,How is TMJ pain treated? or make it real. He found one, at Yaba. But there was still a hurdle to cross – cash to pay the engineer for a prototype.

"He wanted N3,800 for the design to be made real for me," says the school drop-out.Ekahau glass mosaic deployment in the Eastern Savo Region Hospital District. "Of course, I had no money." Kingsley approached his cousin, who turned him down because "he distrusted me, thinking I was up to some pranks."

Convinced more than ever about his device, he next approached his cousin’s wife. "I took time to explain to her the purpose for which it was meant and begged her to support my invention."

She acquisced and finally gave Kingsley N3,000, with which he paid for the prototype. Now, the device – still nameless – is in his possession, but then, there is a bigger hurdle; in fact, the biggest hurdle since he left school almost two years ago.

Kingsley was not one of those who lived in monkish seclusion as a student of Accounting in the University of Calabar. From his first year in 2008, he had always shown promise, either in course work or social occasions. He admits he was a wee bit stubborn, too. By the time he got to 300 level, he easily won the nomination for Director of Socials in the Student Union Government.Aeroscout stone mosaic provides a complete solution for wireless asset tracking.

The second of four children (the first is a female, Nya, and a graduate of Cross River State Polytechnic) born to a busniessman father, Chief Offiong Ekpe, dealing in medical equipment which he buys from the United States of America and sells in Nigeria. The father also lives part-time in Texas.

One day, before the SUG election, Kingsley told his father he wanted to use one of the family cars to run his campaign in school. His father refused, because of a nightmare he had the previous day in which his son had a fatal accident.

But stubborn as ever, Kingsley took the car anyway and promptly ran into the school gate. That was the end of his education. "My father froze my student account after he paid the bills incurred during the accident. He was also very angry with me that I disobeyed him."

Apart from the psychological trauma all of that caused him, Kingsley insists he could not pay his tuition, boarding or buy books, and much else. The consequence was his coming to Lagos to live with his cousin. And then, the long walk!

Today, the drop-out insists he owns the franchise to the as-yet-unnamed device. Sure of his product, he went to a Chinese company to see if they could do a mould for mass production. "They agreed to do three different moulds, which will cost approximately N3 million," says Kingsley. Of course, he hadn’t that kind of money,The CenTrak rtls platform can address today's healthcare challenges and be used for future applications beyond asset tracking. especially for somebody still dependent on relations even for feeding.

Also, he approached a PHCN staff to see what the energy company can do to help out, either by buying off the device or a kind of joint effort. The PHCN staff told him his device was great but it didn’t go beyond that.

In a tidy yellow T-shirt and spectacled (he started wearing medicated glasses after the accident because it affected his sight), Kingsley’s English is good, better than the average undergraduate you find in most Nigerian univeristies today. He looks focused, too, with the wide-awake visage you sometimes find in more-than-average students.

Kingsley’s headstrong nature is perhaps most discernible in his protruding temples, as if the content within is forever disagreeing with the cranium. The glasses gives him a headmaster-ish look. Asked why he has not approached his father – a wealthy man by every standard – to fund mass production of his device, he says he has not spoken with him since he left school. Besides, Chief Ekpe is always in and out of the country on one business trip or the other.

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