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Sometime in 1985, in Lagos, separate, unusual thoughts were going through the minds of two unrelated personalities. At Ikoyi, the then number one citizen of Nigeria who was also the visitor to all the federal universities had cause to be a worried man.

First, an international conference on women had just held in Nairobi, Kenya where it was resolved that the suppression of women in whatever form had to stop. Not only that. Gender, anatomy and physiology were to cease as determining factors in matters of job opportunities, socio-economic and political empowerment and prestige. Any nation that insisted on sticking to the primitive instincts of chauvinism risked being in the minority on the world stage.

Second, the University of Benin, the last of the first generation universities, was experiencing some heat of a different kind. Professor Adamu Baike, a seasoned university administrator, had just finished his tenure as vice - chancellor. And, at least, three professors had decided on their own that they would become his successor. Peace was gradually fading from the campus.

At Akoka, an accomplished academic was in the middle of an internal conflict. There was hardly anything else to prove as an intermediary between the chalk, the blackboard and the intellect of boys and girls, men and women. More that two decades before then, she had made an incontrovertible mark as the first Nigerian woman to obtain a Doctor of Philosophy. Yet, something in her was beginning to tell her that it was time to take another step in life, to reach out for something that would give her greater fulfillment in every way. By her calculation, that meant stepping out of the shores of the land of her birth once again. As a matter of fact, she felt that the United Nations had all it took to give her the keys to a brilliant future. But a turning point was only steps away.

An armoured general and a professor of mathematics are by no means strangers to tactics. While one was thinking of solving national problems, the other was thinking of repositioning herself for better productivity. As a matter of fact, reports had it that names of three women professors had come up for consideration.

General Ibrahim Babangida did not have any difficulty in making his choice. Professor Grace Alele-Williams, he seemed to have reasoned, had paid her dues and using her, as it were, as a stone to bring down two birds - tussle for vice-chancellorship and women agitation - would be just it, from the point of view of merit.

As for Alele-Williams, she did not need any angel to tell her that she was on the threshold of history, that she did not need any other kind of tonic to motivate her to her next level in life. All she needed to do was to step forward and take hold of and maximise the moment. Yes, for the job, she had no role model around.

No woman had clinched that position anywhere in Africa before then. But she was ready to "step out on the waters." She was ready and willing to be a pathfinder, to bear the candle and prove that it could be done, that women had been unjustly cast in moulds that did the male ego good but denied a large part of the world access to quality leadership.

"I never knew Babangida (personally) from Adam," she says. "I was busy doing my own thing, making my own plans and working towards a secure future for me and my family. And then, it (the appointment) came.

"The excitement I felt on receiving the news from Professor Jubril Aminu (the then Minister of Education) had more to do with seeing it in terms of opening up the field for women than anything else. I saw it as an opportunity to show that women too could rise up to the occasion. Also, I knew what the weight of the expectations of the women were. They were eager to see how things would go and I was not going to let them down. Mind you, those who appointed me felt I was qualified for it; so it was not just a case of wanting to satisfy the yearnings of the womenfolk. It wasn't that simplistic."

Quest for knowledge and a consuming desire to see others acquire knowledge have over the years come together to make education the overriding motor of the life of a woman who was one of the 10 females of the second set of students of the then University College, Ibadan (UCI) with a population of 400 students. Probably because of her mother who was a teacher, she made up her mind early enough that the bottom was not for her. She worked hard. "There is actually no alternative to hard work. Of course, the only one I know of is the fruit of laziness," is how she explains a bit of the dynamics of her life.

Talking of fruits. Her curriculum vitae would silence the most unrelenting of skeptics. When in March, 2000 the National Association of Women Academics (NAWACS) made her its Chairperson, Board of Trustees, the ovation that greeted her oration while it was yet in progress revealed the honour that goes with the acceptance and acknowledgment of colleagues. The many awards she has been conferred with do bear the same character.

Between 1939 and 1963, she moved from Government School, Warri to Queens College, Lagos to UCI to University of Burlington and finally to the University of Chicago, Illinois in search of knowledge and certificates. She did not disappoint her teachers. She did not disappoint those who had followed the rise of the star with keen interest. And she did not disappoint herself.

Fresh from the United States in 1963, she returned to Nigeria armed with the zeal to transplant modern mathematics which was indeed at the base of the emerging scientific and technological heights attained in the advanced world to her beloved country. And she succeeded. Up to a point.

"I tried to review the teaching of mathematics in schools, to make sure that the teachers understood the new concept which was already in use in Europe and America. It think we made an appreciable progress. But one of the saddest days of my life was the day the federal commissioner announced in 1978 that modern mathematics was abolished in schools," she recalls.

"Looking back now, maybe I should have said, sorry, we've reached a stage where we have to educate you. I should have gone further to write in the newspapers explaining that the pronouncement was completely wrong, totally retrogressive. Much work had been done. I agree that some of the teachers did not know what they were doing but that was because the decay had already set in.

"We needed to educate the teachers not by taking them back to school but by carrying out in-service education, having visiting teachers who would run courses and introduce new textbooks that could help. We really needed to educate the soldiers on that." It is not easy to fault the arguments of this holder of Officer of the Federal Republic (OFR). The thing about Alele-Williams is that she takes her time-as if she has all of it - to make her points. She would place her facts on one another like a builder would carefully arrange his blocks and hope that her listener would be patient enough to decipher the subject.

A smooth, sonorous, candid voice that has refused to get rusty with the age of its owner ensures that sympathy or even outright support goes her way at the first instance.

One other thing contributes to the mystique of Grace Awani Alele-Williams. Her ability to manifest the mien of a dove this moment and switch over to the steel and precision of an eagle almost immediately after. Does she think she swings between moods? Her response comes slowly but pointedly: "Moods? We all have them and we all should try to control them." The truth is that she means different things to different people. She would not hesitate to let you know, however, that she loves to be herself.

Those who have influenced her life the most are his mother who departed this world in 1973, her teachers at Queens notably Dr. Alice Whitaker, Miss Hutchinson, both late and her mother's friend, Lady Ademola. They gave her a good picture of the wealth of womanhood. One regret she had when fate looked her way in the Uniben drama was that her mother, Mrs. Mary Lilias Alele, was not around to see her dear daughter assume such a momentous responsibility.

She recalls when in 1953 the news of the successful completion of her studies at UCI got to her when she was on holidays in Warri. "We were getting ready for lunch and the news came. I saw my mother shed tears of joy." Eight of them had passed with Second Class Honours. Only two girls made it well. Grace Alele and Mabel Imoukhuede who later became Segun. Professor Chinua Achebe was among them. Her own joy could not be quantified. Some of Nigeria's leaders including the late Chief Obafemi Awolowo who were in London for a constitutional conference sent cablegrams to congratulate her. She probably did not know that more recognition, more laurels, laid ahead her eventful life.

And when she speaks of her childhood, her face radiates the kind of innocence that is not common among 71-year old women. "Singing in the choir, doing special songs at Easter and Christmas, being under the tutelage of my mother, plaiting my hair by myself in those early days and so on give me good memories. Somebody said I had a closeted life. Well if that brought order into my life then it was good," she reminisces.

All these experiences had their input in her life preparatory against some of the most daunting assignments of her carrier. As lecturer, Professor of Mathematics Education and Director of Institute of Education at the University of Lagos from 1965 to 1985, she had a hand in the establishment of educational schools. The four colleges of education in the old Bendel and that of Lagos State at Ijanikin in Lagos State owe their founding partly to her involvement and commitment.

Back to the University of Benin. The ancient city of Benin already had its fare share of heroines. Emotan, Idia, and Iden were among the women who stood tall in history to dwarf some men while uplifting the dignity of the human race. But when Babangida, in his wisdom, added Alele-Wiliams to that list, the institution, the city and indeed the entire country knew at once that another chapter which was not altogether comfortable had been opened.

Ray Ekpu, in a Preface to a Newswatch cover story titled, "Iron Lady of Benin" published in June, 1986 put the situation succinctly: "They (chauvinists) may have been silenced but they are not extinct. In spite of them, however, several women are today, moving, maybe slowly, but they are moving, from the kitchen and the bedroom into the boardroom and the executive suite; from the ground floor to the balcony and then to the top floor of the political or industrial pyramid.

"They are audaciously invading the turf that men had hitherto made their preserve and they are making some men uncomfortable. The walls of their (men's) kingdoms are beginning to crack. They (men) are beginning to share the commanding heights with the 'weaker sex,' and you can hear the men cry: The Amazons are coming."

In 1975, the then military government was convinced that some lecturers should leave the academia. Professor Alele- William's husband, who was teaching at the University of Lagos at the time, was one of them. The authorities at Unilag also thought that it was proper to order his wife who was nursing a baby at the time to vacate her official residence on campus. For a senior member of the community, that was awkward. It was obvious that a gender card was being played. But the men behind that move had underestimated the will of Williams. She fought hard and won.Ten years later, she was to fight a battle of another type.

Insinuations had filled the air. Rumours went out of control and Uniben began to nurse disharmony. The accusations against the woman who was promptly nicknamed "Mamangida" were legion: That she came in through the "back door". That she was brought in by the junta to deal with perceived dissidents. That it was wickedness that made her withdraw water supplies from Ekosodin, an adjoining village to Ugbowo Campus. That she took feminism too far in dealing with student welfare. That she derived pleasure from luring her colleagues into the net of security agencies. That she ran a university of the stature of Uniben like a headmistress. That she was vindictive. That she was not fit for the job, in short. And more.

It probably would not have meant anything to her accusers and tormentors if they had known that her qualification was not in doubt; if they were aware that a lady who could go through all the rigours associated with academia to obtain a Ph.D at a youthful age of 31 years and whose life had been built largely around the campus could, if given the right environment, take Uniben to a higher plane. Instead, majority of the student population and lecturers united by the Academic Staff Union of Universities (ASUU) rose up against her. She, in turn, did not suck her fingers. She did not weep like "women and children." She put her feet down and forged ahead. Those who were at the receiving end of her decisions and indecisions clenched their fists and gnashed their teeth. But as the years went by, more and more people came to identify with her frailties, strong points and vision and came to the conclusion that the reaction to her appointment might have been an expression of shock occasioned by her gender and the fact that she was an "import."

Was she vindictive? Reply: "If I was, I didn't know. I don't think people should be vindictive. But is it possible to carry out major operations without hurting some people? I tried to be sincere."

How then did she survive the first tenure and went ahead to run the second term?

No matter the allegations, some physical structures bear witness to the drive of a team led by a woman. Faculty of Law, College of Medical Sciences, Vice-Chancellor's Lodge, Bursary and Administrative Blocks, Medical Students Hostels are some of her "signatures."

Life post- VC has been that of challenges. "I felt like fish out of water initially. It was not funny. I suddenly discovered that I was not prepared for the life outside." She eventually put the shock behind her and her profile continued its journey upward. Return to Unilag. Committee headship at the Nigeria Universities Commission(NUC). Director, Chevron. Member, National Planning Commission. Research and more research. Committee for the Niger Delta Environmental Survey. Paper presentations. Taking charge of her printing press, Orit Egwa.

Her idea of greatness is "service to all. Make sure you leave the world better than you met it."

The Itsekiri professor is not about to rest. She will do that later in life. But not until "a mechanism is put in place where women can benefit from institutes and organisations by way of learning subjects like politics, philosophy, economics and history which can make them appreciate more the world in which we live.

"With God, it can be achieved. I believe in reasoning, I also believe in God. The future is there waiting to be utilised for the good of everyone. It is equally necessary that you add to someone else's joy, comfort and security," the mother of five signs off.

Way back in the 60's, as a Senate member at Unilag, she would sit for hours in a meeting with a baby in her body without moving around, showing signs of discomfort and doing those things that pregnant women do as a matter of nature, to the amazement of her colleagues.

The picture is getting clearer now. The power of grace is unmistakable. A name could mean a lot.