The Fear of International Conflict: Why I Chose Safety Over Money

I spent the last few nights struggling to fall asleep, haunted by the images of the most recent global crisis. Like most people, my first thoughts gravitated towards family. What if this chaos was closer to home? How would I protect my loved ones? My mind then took a more terrifying turn: What if I were there, playing? What if I were in a foreign land, amidst the chaos, unfamiliar with my surroundings, with no one to call for help? What if I were truly alone? How would I survive? And then, the most haunting question of all: What are those affected by these conflicts feeling right now?

These anxious feelings were further amplified by numerous messages via social media and text, seeking my thoughts on the situation. In contemplating this global crisis and the fears it stirred within me, my main takeaway, as a former overseas athlete, is the consistent value I've placed on safety when determining my next move in pro basketball.

Let me clarify real quick…I'm no coward. I've always been ready to battle on the court, never backing down from conflict. However, it's essential to understand that my courage on the court doesn't mean I took unnecessary risks off the court. Over the course of my career, I've encountered numerous life-changing moments, some truly incredible, others pretty shitty. They all played a significant role in this remarkable journey, but I never once considered jeopardizing my life for the sake of earning a few extra dollars.

The recent incidents along the Gaza Strip has sent shockwaves through the international community. It serves as a stark reminder to the harsh reality that international conflict can erupt at any moment, and when it does, the consequences can be devastating.

While I received offers to play in many different countries, there were certain places I would never go, no matter how much they were offering. I turned down offers from several places that were deemed unsafe at the time.

The fear of being caught in the middle of a violent conflict is something that no one should underestimate. It's a feeling that can be paralyzing and all-consuming. I couldn't bear the thought of being far from home, unable to protect my loved ones, while chaos and danger surrounded me.

Even when I watched or read about atrocities unfolding in distant corners of the world, there was an unease that settled deep in the pit of my stomach. This sensation, it seems, had its roots in the simple fact that I wasn't within the safe confines of my own home. Instead, I found myself in the midst of the unknown, thousands of miles away from what I knew, in a place where everything from the language spoken to the daily rhythms of life remained foreign to me.

The unease wasn't exclusive to me; it's a sentiment shared by many overseas athletes currently living and competing in foreign lands, even if those places are relatively peaceful. The realization that you're not on your home turf, no matter how welcoming the foreign land may be, comes with a sense of apprehension.

Imagine being in a foreign land, where everything is alien…the language, the culture, the surroundings, and suddenly, chaos engulfs your world. This was Alex Owumi 's reality. Alex was a former professional basketball player who found himself in this very predicament.He had to navigate a war-torn country with minimal knowledge of the local terrain, constantly living under the shadow of imminent danger. I was able to interview him a few years ago on my podcast.

Alex was living out his dream, playing pro basketball all around the world. However, his life took an unexpected and terrifying turn when he found himself in Libya during the onset of the 2011 civil war. The sudden outbreak of violence and the uncertainty of being in an unfamiliar place far from home became a haunting reality.

In his own words, Alex describes the fear and uncertainty he faced during those dark days. The fear of not knowing what tomorrow would bring, whether he'd ever return home, and if he'd ever see his family again. It's a fear that feels almost suffocating, one that I can empathize with on a deep level.

His story highlights the terrifying vulnerability that comes with being caught in a foreign place during conflict. The simple tasks of finding food or shelter became perilous endeavors. Alex had to rely on his instincts and sheer determination to survive, facing the unknown every single day.

Alex Owumi's journey is more than a news headline; it's a reminder that pursuing opportunities abroad can carry unforeseen risks. It's a testament to the incredible strength of the human spirit, showing how he managed to overcome the worst of circumstances and eventually return home.

His story hits close to home for me because, like Alex, I've had those same opportunities. I've had contract offers from various Middle Eastern countries that were considered high-risk for Americans. While the idea of playing basketball in different parts of the world is incredibly tempting, the fear of being far from home during uncertain times is something I've always been aware of. It serves as a reminder that sometimes, we need to find a balance between chasing our dreams and ensuring our own safety and well-being.

Money is undoubtedly important, and the opportunities that came my way were tempting. However, as a professional athlete, I understood that my career had a finite lifespan. There would always be opportunities to make money, but those opportunities would be negated if I were dead.

In making this decision, I didn't just consider my own life; I considered the lives of those who depended on me. As an athlete, I had a responsibility not only to myself but to my loved ones as well. It wasn't a decision I made lightly, but it was a decision I made with conviction.

The incident along the Gaza Strip was a tragic reminder of the unpredictable nature of international conflicts and the devastating impact they can have on individuals and their families. I stand by my choice to prioritize safety over money because, in the end, nothing is more valuable than the well-being of the people we hold dear.