‘Everything is about energy’: The many lives of Olivier Singbo

Olivier Singbo knew he had a mind “wired” for engineering. But the more he learned – from his work with development groups in Benin in West Africa, to his time aboard U.S. Navy ships, to his studies of electrical circuits at Olympic College – the more he knew that learning how the world worked meant learning about energy.

Today, Singbo is a student in Western’s Institute for Energy Studies, where he’s channeling his fascination with energy into a bachelor’s degree in energy science and technology. He’s already using what he’s learned to make his family’s life better in Benin.

Singbo recently shared his story and photos with Jonathan Higgins, WWU’s Director of Communications.

When you are born and raised in Porto-Novo, Benin, you are not just the child of your biological parent. You also belong to the community. Your behavior is shaped not just by your parents teaching and disciplining you, but also by the “collectivity”: your siblings, your relatives, your neighbors, your friends.

We were always walking. We walked to school, to friends, to the shops. To school, we walked on small paths through our neighborhood. We were on the edge of a large city, but we had the smell and the sounds of nature all around us – the water and the wildlife together with the smells and sounds of the community –the conversations, the activities, the stands selling snacks or drinks. You are not regularly removed from the community by a bus or an automobile, moving through it too fast. You are always in it; you feel part of it.

Being part of a “collectivity” like this also put me on a path where I felt like I had no room for any kind of mistake. It’s not that you can’t make a mistake, but you have many guides, and many supporters to make sure you are on the right path. Sometimes it doesn’t work but knowing that there was this generosity in the background shapes you in ways you don’t realize. This mentality is still part of me now.

Everything changed for me when my uncle returned from studying in France. He brought a small desktop computer. As an 11-year-old, I thought it was crazy and was so curious about how it worked. I was constantly turning it on and off, playing with its keyboard, typing into it, watching the monitor to see how it changed. These moments were magical. It was like flying. How does this work? How is this not completely amazing to everybody? I knew that I had to understand how this could be possible. I suppose this is when my inner electrical engineer was born.

After finishing school, I learned the Ministry of Agriculture sought individuals with strong technical skills for development projects aiding fishermen and their families. I applied and was given a position. Working in operations in Cotonou, our team assessed fishing practices and productivity on Lake Nokoué and the river Ouémé. We aimed to teach water and vegetation management, wetland reforestation, and fish preservation techniques. The most meaningful projects included building socio-infrastructures such as schools in Aguégués to address accessibility issues during high-water seasons. Electricity supplies and climate change posed additional challenges. There were many problems to be solved. The Participatory Artisanal Fisheries Development Support Programme (PADPPA) was an amazing organization to work for because they were in charge of solving these multifaceted issues. The project was really taking care of all the components of their lives.

Once a month, I submitted reports of my work to the Ministry of Agriculture and the PADPPA. During one such month, I came across an advertisement for the U.S. Diversity Visa Program, known as the “lottery visa.” Without much hesitation, I applied, seeing it as a potential opportunity beyond my current five- to six-year contract with the Agricultural Ministry.

For me, the appeal of the U.S. lay in its opportunities. It symbolized a place where any ambition could be pursued. If you want to be an engineer, you can be an engineer. If you want to be a musician, you can be a musician. In the U.S you just do it. I wanted to be a part of that. A year and a half later, I received the unexpected news of my acceptance. The process involved various requirements, including medical tests and finding a local U.S. sponsor.

I kept this process from my family until it became more certain. When I finally shared the news, they just opened their mouths, silent! I thought, “Can nobody talk anymore?” They were like, “How did you do this?” They were so happy and shocked. They were so super happy that the best thing to do at that time was to sit down first.

Of course, my wife and I had a long discussion after the shock went away. I walked her through the whole process. I told her I did what I did and explained why I was taking this opportunity seriously to go to the U.S. and what it could mean for our next generation, for our future son. And we would find ways to have her join me in the U.S. when the time was right. But I would go first and figure everything out.

Ask any person who has immigrated to the U.S. or anywhere – you never forget that date!

I flew from Cotonou, Benin, through Morocco, into JFK in New York, transferred to LaGuardia Airport in New York, and finally to Seattle. My entry point in the U.S. was New York, where I remember having to give the immigration officer a special envelope that the U.S. Embassy in Cotonou gave me. Everything went smoothly. I was admitted into the U.S., got my luggage and connected through to Seattle.

I was exhausted when I arrived in Seattle late that February night. I was disoriented and everything felt bizarre. Since the designs of airports in Western countries are totally different from what they are back home, I felt lost. I had to borrow someone’s phone inside the airport to call my sponsor to ask where to meet. I was wearing the same tropical clothes from Benin that I boarded the flight in Cotonou wearing. I was not prepared. I found my sponsor at the bridge between the main building and the parking buildings. He gave me his coat. It was so cold outside and raining quite heavily. We walked somewhere to get a shuttle, then to a bus, then another bus, and finally we got to what would be my first home.

I lived with him until my first day of boot camp when I joined the Navy.

I admit there wasn’t much of a plan. I just thought, I’ll get to the U.S. I’ll get to Washington state and then I’ll do whatever I need to do. I knew that I will become an engineer no matter what. But my first two priorities were – learn English and find a job. I had to work. I had to make money to support the new life and to support my family back home.

The first thing I confronted was the idea that you must help yourself. You must take care of yourself and your belongings. Though some people are kind and might help, no one else is responsible for you. It changed my mind set and having to switch from this “everyone responsible for each other” attitude to “you need to help yourself” was also helpful.

Through a connection, I met Azangban, another Beninese, in the Navy recruitment center in Renton, near where I was staying. He became a crucial mentor, providing not just guidance but also practical support with clothes and furniture. Azangban suggested I consider enlisting, emphasizing the sense of the collectivity and opportunity it offered. Despite doubts and perpetual internal battles, I saw it as a chance to contribute to my new American community.

The Navy put me in bootcamp in Illinois. It was bootcamp for me physically and also bootcamp for my mind and my language. I almost left, it was so difficult. I couldn’t understand anything they were saying. They had to use gestures to help me understand orders. It was also physically so hard. My fitness needed to improve. I couldn’t swim.

What would a non-swimmer, non-English speaker want to do with the U.S. Navy? I thought about leaving all the time. But I also thought about my son. I am doing this for my family. This is not just me. The drive is mine, but my family keeps it going.

In the Navy, you get yourself on a good path, you do the work, you follow what is meant to be done, and somehow you make it. I was put in a special program to perform better. My fitness got better. My English got better over time. I spent my free time teaching myself English by watching YouTube videos, especially debate videos. It was also helpful watching how people talk, especially how they move their lips.

The Navy took me from training in Illinois to Virginia to California, where I boarded my ship, the USS Gridley. We deployed for 10 months the first time. We were all over the world. Australia, Singapore, the whole Middle East, including longer stays in Bahrain, Saudi Arabia. There are another 10 stories in that tour alone, but the main lesson I learned is, like in life, you must be open to some risk. The Navy exposed me to the whole world, and it made me think, “OK I am so small, so what is my contribution going to be?”

In the Navy, you get yourself on a good path, you do the work, you follow what is meant to be done, and somehow you make it. I was put in a special program to perform better. My fitness got better. My English got better over time. I spent my free time teaching myself English by watching YouTube videos, especially debate videos. It was also helpful watching how people talk, especially how they move their lips.

The Navy took me from training in Illinois to Virginia to California, where I boarded my ship, the USS Gridley. We deployed for 10 months the first time. We were all over the world. Australia, Singapore, the whole Middle East, including longer stays in Bahrain, Saudi Arabia. There are another 10 stories in that tour alone, but the main lesson I learned is, like in life, you must be open to some risk. The Navy exposed me to the whole world, and it made me think, “OK I am so small, so what is my contribution going to be?”

One of the many things I was thinking about during my years in the U.S. Navy was fulfilling the ambitions that I had when I was in Africa, and how, now that I’m in the U.S., I would make them real. I had to go to school to become at least an engineer or a doctor. I am naturally wired to be an electrical engineer. I wanted to build, I wanted to create, to touch, to understand how things work.

I was already on the Olympic Peninsula, stationed at Bangor Base, and I knew that Olympic College could be a good introduction. I was on duty in the morning, then had to go to classes in the afternoon, after working hours. The first parts of the program were heavily based in math, which is challenging, but the teachers were supportive. The math courses led to physics courses, which were more practical and experimental. My physics classes at Olympic College further hooked me into wanting to get more into the sciences. The Olympic College experience made me think about the resilience of engines: Keep going, keep working, keep pushing. But you need energy! This was what led me to Western.

In my second year at Olympic College, I started to ask myself, “OK, what is next?” And I remember coming across this image of the Earth at night. I think we’ve all seen it. You can see the continents and their shapes based on where the lights of the cities and towns are. Maybe some people look at this and don’t think a lot about it. I look at this and see that the points of light are much more than just points of light. You see America, you see Western Europe, you see parts of Asia, and then, especially with Africa, you see so much less light. It’s a huge difference. It’s rich and poor. It’s resources and no resources. It’s opportunity and no opportunity. And in my electrical-engineering mind, it’s energy and no energy. Which really is at the base of all of it – rich, poor, opportunities, no opportunities.

I saw this and I said to myself, “OK, everything is about energy.”

It was just an online search that led me to Western. I was looking on the internet for places in Washington state that provide training in energy and engineering. And then, this is what I found. Western has an Institute for Energy Studies. I looked through the website and the curriculum, and then I saw that that is what could help me understand more and satisfy my questions about energy. Today I’m completing a Bachelor of Science in energy science and technology.

Seeing the offerings at Western grew my desire to learn about energy. I saw what the teachers here have worked on, their broad backgrounds, their professional networks and the design of the programs. I just thought, “What a great opportunity for me to collect as much knowledge as possible.” And what was very unique was bringing together the technical, the theoretical and practical aspects of energy studies.

It was not such a stretch to go from electrical engineering to energy studies at WWU. In my mind, I already had a lot of work related to electrical theory and circuits from physics. I understood how electricity works – both from Olympic and from my development work in Benin.

I could say that I learned about the theoretical and the technical aspects of electricity – and energy – from college and from the institute, but I learned about the privilege of electricity – and energy – from Benin.

We should always be grateful for the first human beings who understood the potential of electrical energy. From the original filament to this huge phenomenon – accessible, reliable, safe electrical energy that impacts people’s lives in every way. It is profound. It creates communities that are safer, that do not rely anymore on the sunset and sunrise. This is very powerful.

Thinking about some of the cultural shocks that I experienced here when I first arrived, this idea is relevant. You have the internet always available. You have all of the world’s information instantly. The electrical grid is, most of the time, working everywhere. We have all our basics in place here. This is not true in many places in the world.

The first class I took at the IES was Energy and the Environment with my professor, Imran Sheikh. And we started out big! The experience from that course gave me the opportunity to write a project about how we can mitigate greenhouse gas emissions here at WWU. He coached me through an analysis of Western’s energy consumption, and I created a kind of road map or guideline on the steps to take to improve the existing infrastructure.

The experience that transferred the most practical knowledge on energy systems, design and project management was Project ZeNETH. It’s unique to Western as far as I know. Project ZeNETH is a student-led program to build an off-grid, net-zero-energy tiny house with the mission to give students practical education while addressing important community issues, like housing, climate change, and sustainable design. It was a massive opportunity to have literally hands-on experience.

The idea was that the production of the houses – which we would build ourselves – could scale to become something that could be applied all over the state or the country.

The institute is very occupied in all these aspects of energy. The faculty provide you all the technical knowledge in regard to design, life-cycle assessment, mechanical aspects of buildings, HVAC systems, electrical, energy assessment in facilities, etc. But even more than that, you learn so much from the design of the program overall. From policy to design to implementation. And our teachers are themselves also very involved in Washington state climate policy and in many other levels of discussions around energy and innovation here.

My wife Isidora and son Ozias got a visa and joined me here in 2017. Unfortunately, my mother in-law was sick and wanted to see her daughter, so my family returned to Benin in 2018. At the beginning of 2019, Ozana, my first daughter was born. In September 2022, my second daughter Iris was born. All are still in Benin, in Porto-Novo. Ozias and Ozana are now going to school. Once I graduate and get a well-paying job, the immigration process will resume again so they can come back and live here with me.

My entire life is still centered in my community in Benin, even if I am not there physically. I am so happy that I could expand my experience, collect knowledge, get to know about all of the systems I wanted to know about, and find a way to help my family, my community. I had that chance in summer of 2023.

The electricity in my family’s home is low-quality. It is not reliable and it’s not affordable. There are constant power failures, and in this climate, where it’s very hot, you need the power to stay cool, to keep your food and drinks cool, to stay connected.

I said, “Wait a minute. What can I do to fix this issue? How can we prevent having to throw away food, for instance?” I figured out my job for the summer. I put my experience from Project ZeNETH and the WWU Institute for Energy Studies to the test to solve this issue of cooling and food conservation. I needed to take my family’s house off-grid.

I took design principles from ZeNETH – taking solar energy, which there is a lot of, and connecting the electrical in-home facilities to the solar array. I used savings to purchase the material, and I designed the project based on the calculated daily energy needs for two DC loads (one fridge and one freezer) and other basic energy needs. The refrigeration and the power supply work well. My mother was even able to make ice and start to sell it and provide to other families in the community.

It feels good to make it happen. It changed my family’s life. It reduces the burden on them and saves money. It’s a basic necessity that they now have, like we have here. And you know, everyone could do stuff like this. There’s no reason, if we wanted to, that we couldn’t figure out things like this, right? It’s just about being willing to put in the effort and think about the collectivity.