"What is the name of the movie you are producing?" the immigration officer asked me as he pulled me aside into the small interrogation room. I'm not quite sure if answering that we are producing a soap opera to promote Cross River gorilla conservation will do any better, so I remain quiet. I was once deported from Peru as a result of an overnight change to an immigration law, leaving me stranded one full night at Lima's airport eating causa peruana with the guards. I'm not sure spending a night at the Abuja airport would be as pleasant. "We are not producing any movie," I finally answered. A cool thing about my job is that I get to learn from a wide variety of people and themes. Last week I was in Mexico working with the State government on Chiapas in the planning of a telenovela that will promote women and indigenous people's rights along with sustainable development; this week I'm working with a group of Nigerian and Cameroonian experts on a radio drama that aims to inspire the pride and preservation of the remaining 250 Cross River gorillas. I read somewhere that the former president of Colombia, Alvaro Uribe, is a great pretender. He is able to appear an expert on any topic after five minutes of debriefing. I'm not claiming to seem as an expert of any kind, but I can certainly tell by now a few stories about gorillas, Ghanian fish mongers, Bolivian youth and Chamula communities. "It is not about the story, but about how you tell the story," Meesha will say quoting her mother.