David Moinina Sengeh was seemingly at the peak of a great career triumph. Educated in America at Harvard and MIT, he was now a governmental cabinet member of education in his home country Sierra Leone. However, at the very beginning of his president’s term, the president – his boss – said that he would maintain the previous regime’s policy of banning pregnant girls from school. To most, this move seemed to make sense. However, to Sengeh, it did not, and he considered resigning. A ban makes an already hard situation worse. Many of the girls had experienced domestic rape, so a ban would keep them permanently from becoming productive citizens. So Sengeh’s sense of calling was excited, and this book’s real-life plot was begun.

Of course, many experience a moving sense of calling; few maintain it to execution. This story, more of an inspirational memoir than anything else, tells how he organized his own mind, then his own government, and then his country to implement the idea of “radical inclusion” that animated his passion. He changed the president’s mind and the country’s hearts. He did so in a very brainy way and used wide learning to tear down social, religious, and ethnic barriers.

Many pursue education in the hope of changing the world. Certainly, Sengeh did by pursuing a PhD in biomedical engineering. Yet maintaining momentum to adopt changes, even if they’re different from the ones you started with, is an arduous task. Sengeh’s words can inspire people by training their hearts and minds to fulfill their dreams and make a difference in the fate of humanity. His story is a good lesson in intense, focused work.

This book is short but power-packed. It enlightens because it did not occur in a “developed” country but rather mostly in western Africa. It provokes hope because Sengeh taught an entire nation one powerful principle: what he calls “radical inclusion.” It teaches us how to apply such powerful lessons in our lives. Its only shortcoming, which is minor in the book’s scope but common among politicians, is that his ego sometimes pedantically stalls in communicating the essential storyline. Overall, though, he conveys his tale with passion, brilliance, and force.

This book can garner a global audience, particularly those of us whose jobs it is to implement change. It inspires and instructs at the same time. It can also propel students forward to seeing their transformative visions of the future put into effect. He avoids hyperbole and fluffiness that is too common in heartwarming tales. The fact that this impact was achieved by an African, albeit with a privileged education, shows that any world citizen can institute meaningful impact. ( )

A cabinet minister wanted to change a law his President wanted to keep...and the law changed. This is a rising politician's story of a successful campaign in Sierra Leone. He made it happen by using strategies that he, and many of us, studied in the U.S. college system (in his case it was Harvard). He was able to make all of the strategies work, which usually seems to take longer in real life than it did in his case, and tell the story of it in a way that could work as a campaign document in Sierra Leone and as part of the "Radical Inclusion" series here.

Sometimes the narrative drags. Sometimes what's left out is annoying..."Radical Inclusion" can turn out to exclude quite a lot of people, specificially steamrollering introverts and those whose needs are not actually served by the wonderful humanitarian improvement someone wants to make. It works for groups whose membership is voluntary and temporary. It overlooks the need for larger groups, like cities or countries, to plan for diversity and secure everyone's right to opt out of changes that don't serve them well.

In Sierra Leone, access to education and employment for women was often being blocked by the rule that students who appeared to be pregnant were expelled from school. Apparently some girls had been forcibly impregnated for this purpose. The original idea that banning pregnant students from schools would reinforce girls' sense of moral responsibility was conflicting with the reality that society was failing to protect girls from rape. By calling attention to this conflict, advocates of keeping single mothers in school were able to shame adults into changing the school policy. Next question: What about those teenagers whose pregnancies are uncomfortable enough that they and their potential children are better served by their staying home, away from the emotional conflicts and infectious diseases that circulate through groups of teenagers? In too many cases, the pregnant teenagers had no homes. Temporary lodgings near the schools needed to be provided for them. That gave otherwise homeless single mothers a safe place to sleep. to avoid the suddenly sickening food odors at lunch breaks if necessary, and so on. What about the girls who may have been better served by home study than by school attendance, anyway? No mention of them.

This book is well worth studying...for what it fails to say and accomplish, as well as what it says and accomplishes. Every activist needs a copy. ( )