Waleed J. Iskandar
(By Colin McKee)

~ Professional Development Advisor ~


    Waleed was my professional development advisor at Monitor Company, and my favorite case team leader. He was my mentor, and my friend. In 1996, I was part of the first team that Waleed took to Istanbul. During that time, we did many incredible things, and lived an amazing adventure. As I reflect on our friendship, I realize that telling these stories is the most important thing I can do.

     I met Waleed in the fall of 1994. I had just joined Monitor, straight out of college. As my advisor, Waleed was immediately a dazzling figure to me, a rising star at Monitor and a great role model for a 22 year old. In the fall of 1995, I first worked with Waleed on a project in Massachusetts. This project was a good success, and working for Waleed was exciting and fun.

     By that point, I was lobbying to work overseas for Monitor. On a snowy Boston day in January of 1996, Waleed found me in my office and proposed that I join his team to be deployed on a project in Abu Dhabi in February. I think it’s a good indication of my opinion of Waleed that I agreed on the spot to move to Abu Dhabi (of all places!) for a year to work for him. For the next few months, we lived out of packed bags, constantly ready to move to Abu Dhabi. Our February departure date was pushed back to March, then April, then May, then June. Finally we gave up, and decided that Abu Dhabi wasn’t happening.

     Waleed and Nikos had sold a project in Istanbul, and Waleed asked me to move there, which I happily accepted. Waleed, Adnan Afridi and I lived in a small apartment in Istanbul that also served as Monitor’s first office. For most of the first six months, Waleed dispatched me to Russia, Morocco, and Egypt to conduct modules of work for our client. I had countless phone calls back to Istanbul to seek Waleed’s advice on how to understand Russians, how to negotiate with Moroccans, how to survive weeks on my own in foreign countries, etc. Waleed came to Moscow for one trip with me at a particularly risky point in the project, when we had little data and no story to tell our client about the Russian market. Waleed worked with me for a couple of days, and identified the story and the data we needed.

     Throughout these travels, I would come back to Istanbul for presentations to the client. We would work until late at night for many days in our tiny apartment office, pulling together presentations. Several things could be counted on – the power would go out at least once per day, we’d gather round our tiny coffee table for a dinner of kebabs, and we would end up laughing and joking about what we were doing.

     The camaraderie was incredible, and Waleed was the central figure. Through what must have been incredible stress for him, he barely blinked. He was always positive, gracious, and supportive. He always seemed to know the answer – we did great work, and Waleed was always the directing force.

     I will never forget his style in our meetings with the CEO of the client and his many associates. They would aggressively poke and prod at our presentation, and Waleed would just laugh and deftly answer their questions. Waleed charmed, impressed, and convinced.

     It wasn’t all work. I remember many nights out on the town in Istanbul, boat cruises on the Bosphorus, and other good times. Just as Waleed was our leader during the day, he was our companion and good buddy on those nights.

     I spent the first half of 1997 in Istanbul as well. Our office had grown from the three of us in that cramped apartment to 30 people based in a villa overlooking the Bosphorus. During 1997, I didn’t work directly for Waleed, although I saw him every day.

     There is one story from those months that sticks with me. In March of 1997, Mirel Sayinsoy and I were traveling in central Turkey, doing interviews for our Monitor project. On a dark, wintry night in the middle of nowhere, our rental car hit ice. I was driving, and I absolutely lost control. The car went off the road, rolled a couple of times, and came to a stop on all four wheels. The car was totaled, but by the grace of God, both Mirel and I were fine. I always felt this bond of survival with Mirel - a shared miracle that we walked away from a battered, broken car without so much as a scratch. When I learned about her leukemia, I could only imagine the pain that Waleed felt.

     Later in 1997, I got tired of Istanbul, and moved to Amsterdam. In the fall of 1997, Waleed did one final, amazing thing for me.

     I was applying to business schools, and I asked Waleed to write a letter of recommendation. The typical letter of recommendation is perhaps a page or two. Waleed wrote four pages in the most glowing terms, encouraging my admission without reservation. In my acceptance letter from Stanford, the director of admissions commended me for my recommendations – I’m sure Waleed’s letter had made the difference. I believe that Waleed gave me the gift of my business school experience at Stanford, which has been one of the best periods of my life.

     I’m now living in San Francisco, 3000 miles from Boston and 8000 miles from Istanbul. While we kept in touch occasionally by email, it has been more than three years since I last talked to Waleed. I last saw him in the fall of 1997 in Amsterdam. I always wanted to spend more time with Waleed, and hopefully work with him again. Our correspondence had lapsed, but only with the surety that we would see each other again, and do more great things together.

     While I played a fairly small part in Waleed’s life, I’m constantly aware of how much Waleed impacts me still. Through his mentor-ship and his example, he substantially shaped who I am today.

     Through his memory, he will continue to be a shaping presence for me.

     Waleed was the man I want to be, in business, and in many ways, in life. He was smart, confident, charismatic, debonair, charming and good-hearted. I’ve talked with Lisa Lynch a number of times about Waleed since September 11. She wrote that in her mind, he will always be lounging on that balcony in Bebek, overlooking the Bosphorus, smoking a cigarette.

     She can still hear his laugh. So can I. I always will.
(Colin McKee)

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