A Man from Another Land: How Finding My Roots Changed My Life (21 page)

Ayer’s copywriters caught perfectly the powerful double meaning of Gerety’s slogan in a 1950 ad with the following headline:
“May Your Happiness Last as Long as Your Diamond.” This ad combined three components that were characteristic of ads of the
period: first, a painting of an idealized romantic setting by a famous modern artist; second, a poem that positions the engagement
diamond as the symbol of undying love; and, third, a section devoted to practical advice about selecting a diamond.

The combination of poetry and practicality was meant to “help motivate people to want diamonds and overcome any barriers to
actual purchase.” It worked.

By the 1960s De Beers had successfully instilled the idea that giving a diamond was the best expression of one’s love and
commitment. As part of its mystique the diamond now had a formal ceremonial significance that was exclusive to this gem. In
the 1970s, De Beers kept the gem’s appeal equally vibrant for traditionalists and nontraditionalists alike. And from then
on, its ads remained mindful of constantly shifting cultural and social norms.

“A Diamond Is Forever.” In those four words are concentrated all of the emotional and physical properties of the diamond.
The slogan became the cornerstone of the company’s global-marketing program for diamonds and was translated into twenty-nine
languages. Amazingly, the slogan’s impact has been as powerful in every language.

I figured that it was high time that the people of Sierra Leone began to experience some of the “happiness,” and share in
the love and the commitment their diamonds represented.

It is impossible to fathom the trillions of dollars’ worth of Sierra Leonean diamonds that have been sold around the world
since their discovery. It was mind-boggling to me that such atrocities could be allowed to prevail for as long as they had.
The reason had to be about much more than tribalism. As I continued to do my research, I began to run into some inscrutable
verbiage on the Internet regarding De Beers’s stance on the economic development of Sierra Leone. It was information that
would lead one to believe that De Beers was socially active in Sierra Leone.

Judging by what I saw on the ground there, in places like the Majestic Mining Company, I wasn’t convinced. I needed to find
out what was really going on for myself. The more I researched, the more I found it extremely difficult to believe that in
1984 De Beers simply walked away from such a lucrative resource. There had to be a reason for this “indirect” relationship
with Sierra Leone, some justifiable cause to allow Sierra Leone to deteriorate in the years that followed. It all just seemed
too inhumane and too unjust to comprehend. I needed to see and hear exactly what De Beers was willing to do for a country
that had enriched it.

I found the name of Joan Parker. In 2006, Joan was the De Beers Group U.S. Public Relations Manager. She spearheaded the marketing
strategy to brand the De Beers Louis Vuitton Möet Hennessy joint venture, making De Beers LVMH a household name. I had no
idea how to reach her until I
happened
to see a photograph of her on a
wireimage.com
Web site. Luckily for me, the young photographer who had taken her picture was a colleague of mine, Jeff Vespa. I called
Jeff and he confirmed that he had indeed taken the picture and that he knew Joan Parker personally.

“Isaiah, Joan Parker is one of my dearest friends,” he said.

“No way! She is a friend of yours? Small world!”

I explained to Jeff that I had just returned from Sierra Leone
and that I wanted to reach out to a representative at De Beers and see if I could persuade De Beers to invest in a few projects.
I had the idea that it could rebuild the Bo Hospital and build clean water systems and primary schools in the country. I told
him that I would love to be a spokesperson for a De Beers–funded initiative. Jeff thought I had a good idea and that my experiences
in Sierra Leone would intrigue Ms. Parker. He agreed to make the introduction.

Less than twenty-four hours later, Joan Parker and I had an hour-long phone conversation. After hearing my passion and vision
for Sierra Leone she agreed to set up a lunch meeting with me and the De Beers Director for External Affairs, Mr. Rory More
O’Ferrall.

A week later, I was in New York. Joan asked me to meet her before our meeting at the De Beers store on Fifth Avenue, one of
the world’s most exclusive shopping corridors. I stepped off the busy street through a tall, shiny glass and metal door, and
Joan appeared as if on cue. She gave me a brief tour of the store, taking me past the elegant see-through display cases filled
with shimmering diamonds of all shapes and sizes.

“Oh my, we have to hurry!” she exclaimed as she glanced down at her Chopard Happy Diamonds watch. We headed across the street
to the Peninsula Hotel, where we were to have lunch with Mr. O’Ferrall. A well-dressed gentleman was already sitting at the
table when we arrived. “Hellooooo, Rorrrrry!” Joan said as we approached. “How have you been? I hope you haven’t been waiting
long. I want you to meet Isaiah Washington.”

“Hello, Mr. O’Ferrall. It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” I said.

“Rory, please,” he said, “please call me Rory.”

He gestured for us all to sit down. I remained standing, assisting Joan with her seat, unbuttoning my suit coat, and making
sure that Rory was seated before I slowly eased down into my chair.

“Rory, thank you so much for coming out today,” Joan began. “I know you have a hectic schedule.” Rory said he was delighted
to be there.

“So, Joan here tells me you are doing some good things in Sierra Leone,” he said to me.

“Yes, sir,” I replied. “As you know, Sierra Leone has had severe difficulty recovering from the war. While I was there I pledged
to return to the United States and let everyone know about the good things that I saw. I want to support the indomitable spirit
of the people and their willingness to better themselves and their country. I drove from Freetown, to Bo, Kono, and Mekeni
and back to Freetown, asking what top five things the people would change right away if they could. The number one issue was
corruption.”

Rory replied that he was very familiar with the problems in Sierra Leone. “As a matter of fact,” he said, “I personally supported
a village there before and during the war. It’s tragic. It was just tragic what happened there.”

I assured him I couldn’t agree with him more. I went on, “I was wondering where De Beers stood regarding the plight of the
people of Sierra Leone today. I mean, I am well aware of De Beers’s history with the country—”

Rory interrupted, “De Beers hasn’t done any business in Sierra Leone since 1984.”

“Directly,” I said.

“I beg your pardon?” Rory said.

I continued, “I discovered in my research that De Beers controls over two-thirds of the world’s diamond supply.”

“De Beers has founded and funded the Diamond Development Initiative to address many of the issues arising from diamond mining
in several countries,” he said. “Here, I brought some brochures for you.”

I quickly read through a brochure that explained De Beers’s
global involvement with the Diamond Development Initiative (DDI) and the Kimberley Process. The DDI, according to De Beers’s
Web site, “brings non-governmental organizations, governments, and the private sector together in a common effort that aims
to convert diamonds into an engine for development, and to formalize the economies surrounding artisanal diamond mines.”
⁸
The Kimberley Process, which I’d heard about in Kono from our guide, Thani, created a certification and regulatory system
for diamond mining in several African countries.

I looked up at Rory and asked, “Thank you, sir, but what about Sierra Leone?” He paused and looked at Joan as if to say, “Help.”
Joan looked at him and smiled.

I pressed on, “Sir, if I may, De Beers has made trillions of dollars from diamonds extracted out of Sierra Leone since 1935.
I am aware of the poor governance since Sierra Leone’s independence in 1961. I am aware of the endemic graft and corruption
that is sustaining the present condition of Sierra Leone. I am also aware that none of this is the people’s fault. I am aware
that eight out of nine people in Kono would rather use their shovels for farming than for diamond mining to provide for themselves
and their families. The innocent children who are dying as we speak deserve a chance, sir.
They
deserve to have a stake in their own country’s resources.
They
deserve to benefit from the diamonds mined in their country. I have been there and it’s just not happening. How can a country
so rich in resources be the poorest country in the world? I’m asking you if you think De Beers would join forces with me to
ensure that the people get the help they deserve.”

“Isaiah,” he said, “your passion and vision for Sierra Leone is not wasted on me. As I mentioned before, I am well aware of
the issues regarding Sierra Leone. If you need me to answer any questions regarding DDI or would like to see what we are accomplishing
in Botswana, I would be more than happy to facilitate that.”

I looked at Rory’s face, at his rose-colored cheeks and deeply compassionate eyes behind his gold-rimmed glasses. “Yes, sir,”
I said. “I understand. I will call you if I have any more questions.”

Joan, Rory, and I finished our lunch mostly in silence. Joan commented on the great weather in New York, and Rory and I agreed.
It was in fact a beautiful summer day in New York. I returned to Los Angeles and received a message from Rory, calling from
London. He asked me to call him as soon as possible.

When I dialed the number he left, Rory picked up. “Isaiah, it’s so nice of you to call. I wanted to tell you that it was a
pleasure to meet you. I really respect what you are doing for Sierra Leone. I just wanted to let you know that I am retiring
soon and that I want you to know the wonderful woman who will be taking over. Her name is Rosalind Kainyah. She will be Director
of Public Affairs at the De Beers Group in the States. She is a very talented woman. She will be your contact here at De Beers
effective immediately and she is expecting your call. I wish you all the best, Isaiah.”

I thanked him. He told me if I was ever in London that I should not hesitate to call him. “Cheers!” he said, and hung up.

“Okay,” I said out loud, “Ms. Rosalind Kainyah. What can you do for Sierra Leone?”

I checked another voice mail. It was a message from the office of Sally Morrison, director of the Diamond Information Center
(DIC). I called her office number.

“Hello, Sally Morrison, this is Isaiah Washington calling.”

“Isaiah, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said. “I hear you’re doing work in Sierra Leone.”

I confirmed that I was.

“That’s great,” she continued. “I’m told you visited some diamond mines there.”

“Yes, I did.”

“You took a lot of pictures I’m sure.”

“Yes, I was there documenting the horrible conditions all over the country.”

“That’s fantastic. What are you going to do with the pictures?”

I paused for a moment, not sure where the conversation was going. “Nothing, they’re for my Web site. Why do you ask?”

“I was just curious,” she said. “I participate in a lot of fund-raisers and I thought maybe you could come to one of my events
and see what we do.”

I told her I would love to.

“This is great,” Sally continued. “I will put your name on our invitation list. I have to take another call, but the next
time I’m in Los Angeles, let’s grab some lunch or a coffee, okay?”

“That would be great!” I told her.

We hung up. In August, Rosalind Kainyah returned my phone call and told me she was still settling in to her new role at De
Beers, but that she would be traveling to Los Angeles in September.

O
n June 21, 2006, Crispian met me at the Hotel George in DC. In his capacity as NAACP human rights attorney, he was able to
arrange some meetings with various “key” politicians he thought would be able to help support my efforts in Sierra Leone.
Or at the very least, people he thought would hear me out. I knew as well as he did that trying to convince U.S. politicians
that Sierra Leone deserved a second, third, or fourth chance from the American government would be a difficult task. The last
forty-five years of Sierra Leone’s leadership—or lack of it—had contributed to bringing the country to its knees, and its
ultimately becoming a failed state.

My team was scheduled to meet in my hotel room. There was a knock on the door. Sonya opened it and Jessica Peetoom from Congressman
Kevin Brady’s office, Dr. Andre Panossian, Jackie Coker, and my new cameraman, Gonzalo Accame, all walked in.

Gonzalo and his assistant began setting up their equipment.
I carefully went through my notes on the agenda for the day as Crispian explained whom we would be meeting with. He passed
out some sheets of paper and said, “In your hands are the list of representatives that Isaiah will meet today: Senator Sam
Brownback, Senator Barack Obama, Senator Arlen Specter, Senator Tom Coburn, Senator John Thune, Congressman Tom Tancredo,
Congressman Kevin Brady, Congressman John Conyers Jr., Congressman Donald Payne, Congresswoman Barbara Lee, and Congressman
Russ Carnahan.

“Keep in mind that many of these representatives will be on the floor voting, so timing is critical. You will understand later.”
I stood up, got in front of everyone, and said, “This will be our theme song for the day.” The song “Crazy” by Gnarls Barkley
was playing on the room’s CD player, I turned up the volume. Sonya’s phone rang, but I continued to groove with the song until
it was over, trying to make myself and my team relax and laugh a little before we headed out.

Sonya pulled me aside, “I just got a call from a friend of Adisa’s. He’s in the hospital.”

“What?” I said. “What is he in the hospital for?”

“The doctor thinks it’s Lassa fever,” Sonya answered.