professor, thought leader, storyteller

I sat with Yusuf at the Starbucks on the Corniche by the American University of Beirut. A walk away from his office at the Olayan School of Business. He would frequently refer to his father in our talk, who passed away a couple of weeks prior. From his mentions and non-verbal cues, I could tell he loved and admired him.

Like most who leave our lives, we wish for another chat, one more walk, or just a phone call. I felt his father present with us — lucky father, lucky son.

The writer

I follow him on Facebook and LinkedIn as his posts are well-researched and engaging. His clean and clear style brings forward strong and opinionated points. He’s occasionally advised to steer away from politics, as staying neutral is safer. He chooses otherwise. His writings ruffled feathers among his friends; he may have lost some. The current Lebanese situation is especially sensitive in his inter-married extended family.

He will take a stand and politely disagree with you if he needs to; you will know it.

“You have to write what you think. You have to say your word. You live only once.”

While he writes for others, he also does it for himself. From his social encounters, he derives themes and writes about them to convince another person or group of his point of view. With his pulse on the local community, he argues his point. Writing helps him clarify his thoughts, vent, and get it out there.

For example, he regularly writes about the impact of so-called Lebanese leaders on society today, in the past, and in the future. He wants to reach one person, several people, or an organized group by continuously addressing this topic. Hopefully, someone would listen and realize that there’s another truth out there. Knowingly or not, they might realize that they may have sold themselves. What would it take people to regain their decision, dignity, and self-governance?

He’s a gentleman of a writer who uses the power of words to educate and carve words for his own therapy. While he thinks he must make a difference somewhere, he still strives for a significant impact.

It’s also in the immediate family. His 20-something children read some of his posts. Sometimes, they even discuss them.

Constantly reading his trigger events

He is big on events and their triggers. He watches for them in and around his life and asks: “What can I learn from this?” In the leadership literature that he teaches, trigger events usually help you grow. An accident, a problem with a boss, an argument with someone, and family arguments, if channeled correctly, would help you move forward and grow.

During condolences, Yusuf’s family talked, reminisced, and honored his father, Munir, and the impact he had on people. His cousin spoke about her son, who works for one of the big four audit firms in Saudi Arabia. One day, Munir invited the once-teenager to his office, sat him in his chair behind the big desk, and told him, “If you study and work hard, you can be somebody.” This event was an impactful trigger in the young boy’s life.

When Yusuf got engaged, his wife-to-be was still in college. As traditionally might have happened, the groom’s family was expected to ask the girl to quit school and build a home. When the family went to ask for the girl for their son in marriage, Munir had one condition — that the young woman finish her studies and graduate. Until today, Yusuf reflects on that trigger. He was a young man to be married to a young woman still in college, and how his father treated the situation. Today, Yusuf and his spouse nurture their family with the same spirit.

“I like to give meaning to things that happen in my life.”

It takes a village

A couple of months before he passed, Munir gave Yusuf big worry beads — the ones you put on display. He told him that it was a gift from Fuad Saba, a renowned and respected man in the Middle East’s financial auditing profession.

Rewind to 1952 when Munir was 21. He joined the SABA firm as an entry-level bookkeeper. He climbed the ranks to be offered a partnership in 1967, which he amicably turned down. A few years later, he got certified as a chartered accountant. The protestant Fuad Saba was like a father to Yusuf’s father. He was his trigger-maker.

Yusuf’s family is as Beiruti as it gets. His father’s family lived near Sadat Street, and his mother’s family lived on Sidani Street. Yusuf’s grandfather was not educated. It was customary to ask boys to leave school as teenagers to work — learn a trade, and make a living. Munir was taken out of school at age 10.

The American Univesity of Beirut was across the street. For an uneducated family that did not appreciate education, sending anyone to university was outside the books. Also, very few Muslims attended during the 1920s and ’30s. In that context, the little boy refused what his father had asked. Instead, he enlisted at the Mteini & Saikali vocational night school while working during the day. Later, he was able to secure a job with SABA — a pivotal trigger in his life. Fuad Saba had taken Munir under his wings.

When Munir studied for his chartered accountant certificate, he traveled to England. His friend George Matta would be waiting for him at the airport.

Yusuf wanted to mention many people who crossed his father’s life. He intentionally wanted to show the power of collective support — irrespective of religious or confessional lines, the receiver’s openness, and its powerful impact on everyone.

On role models

Our society needs solid role models. If you want to go to public life today, can you pick a role model to follow? In one of his online courses on leadership, he found it difficult for students to find role models.

Can a particular person be a role model for one aspect of my life and someone else for another aspect? Can I be a role model for somebody in his professional life, but I’m not in his sports aspirations? Nelson Mandela was a hero and a role model for building a nation. However, there was so much to be desired in his family life. Mandela can be a statesman role model for public service, persistence, clarity of purpose, and patience.

Prof. Yusuf invites us to create our role model from the best out there.

Sometimes people say:

“I blame my parents for raising me a good person. Someone like me cannot make it in a place like Lebanon.”

While he believes this should not be true, he also knows that the lack of good role models in politics and business created the end justifies the means attitude. This is especially true with those who grew up in Lebanon in the last 30 years (1990 — ). The environment they witnessed was predominantly corrupt.

On a personal level, Yusuf could have made a long career at his father’s firm, but he opted for academics. He’s more into being in the classroom, teaching, researching, advancing knowledge, and serving the community than going full-time in an environment that would drain all his energy.

The future of the 100-year-old nation

“We are an interesting national experiment,” he says. In the life of a nation, 100 years are formative. But for a human being, it’s several lifetimes.

The external pressures on Lebanon since its inception as a state have been too high. The continuous fluctuations and external disruptions to the system are not typical for a state of its size, internal mix, and geographical location. In typical situations, Lebanon should have had a more coherent society. Organically, the Lebanese should have gotten closer to each other due to technology and other factors.

“There could be an inflection point as the young generation gets exposed through digital channels.”

Yusuf is optimistic. This factional state can become a beautiful multicolored tapestry like the Bekaa Valley on a Spring day.

He suggests no matter the political winds or ideologies, the new Lebanon can benefit most when it learns from other experiences. And then create its own approach to developing the new republic. Even the best practices elsewhere, if adopted as is, may get you zero traction or a rebellion. It has to come from within to last. Homegrown and locally nurtured while seeing what others did is the best route to success and sustainability.

The little big project

Besides his regular duties at the Olayan School of Business and recent enjoyment of high-tech blended learning, he wants to craft stories. Yusuf takes inspiration from his late father, the master storyteller who inspired, solved problems, and educated through lively story-telling. In his turn, he wants to write stories about ordinary people who grew up in Beirut.

The first one would be his father’s story.

An exciting online/offline publication will be coming your way! Are you, or you know someone from Beirut interested to tell his or her story? Get in touch with Yusuf here.

We said goodbye. He headed back to campus. I walked to my car thinking... This one professor took a break from work to talk with me about his life and aspirations. Instead, his reflections were about his grandfather, father, and children. He sees his life as one ring of a chain in this 100-year-old republic. A solid and impactful one, he hopes.

Yusuf’s Starbucks ☕️ : He liked the grande white mocha, and then he switched to a tall cappuccino (fewer calories).