December 1996: I was a new immigrant and as part of my Christmas treat to myself, I went to visit Washington D.C. I went to Capitol Hill and loitered around congressional buildings. I was not allowed in so I admired the magnificent edifice from afar.

At the White House, I spent quite a considerable amount of time complimenting the huge Christmas tree outside the White House perimeters. It was reported that the then first lady, Hilary Clinton, personally had a lot to do with the choice of tree and decorations. It was very impressive.

Because I was not on an official tour, I simply walked along the walls of the White House, peeping in through the gates hoping to get a glimpse of the then young Bill Clinton, Chelsea and Hill. Like many across the world, I loved how they swept into power on the promise of bringing hope back to America.

I was careful as I loitered around to avoid the gaze of secret service agents around the White House. To my greatest surprise, a secret service agent approached me as I sat on a rest chair by the gate.

“Hi,” the tall black man dressed in dark suit and glasses said, “How would you like to go in and have dinner with the Clintons.”

Having the secret service agent standing in front of me caused considerable panic in me. As he spoke, I was already imagining my deportation. In my quaking mind rang the chorus, “I did not do it.” Were it to be in today’s Bush White House, I would have urinated on myself. Needless to say that I did not hear a word he said.

I remembered that I opened my mouth to speak but could not recall what came out.

The agent saw how frightened I was. He sat down beside me and gently repeated what he said.

If I had the guts, I would have said to him, “Man, stop playing.”

But them he explained why. He said that the president had been diminished since the Republicans took control of Congress and the president would like to bring in regular Americans to the living quarters and show them that the president was still in high spirit.

I did not completely trust his story but I followed him. Together we walked into the White House. It was not long before I saw myself across the dinning table from Bill, Hill and Chelsea and a dozen other guests. It was a lovely evening, perhaps the best I ever had in my life. We ate medium done steak with various vegetables and mashed potatoes. We drank wine while a Quartet played jazz while we ate.

I was very grateful to the Clintons for welcoming me in. As I left after taking some pictures with the Clintons, I even thought that that dinner could lead to a romantic relationship with Chelsea.

New York Times, January 08, 1996: “Americans of all political persuasions are coming to the sad realization that our first lady - a woman of undoubted talents who was a role model for many in her generation - is a congenital liar,” wrote columnist, William Safire.

Fast Forward 2006: I wrote a book in 2006 called Children of A Retired God. It was about my experiences and observations in America. I forgot to include any of these details in my book.

Fast Forward January 2008: I told the White House dinner story as part of my campaign to be the president of the Graduate Students union of Western Connecticut State University.

Fast Forward March 24, 2008: The Hillary Clinton’s story of how she evaded sniper fire when she visited Bosnia in 1996 may just be from the figments of her imagination. Her campaign says Senator Clinton may have “misspoke” recently when she said she had to evade sniper fire while visiting Bosnia as first lady. This admission hurts her often flaunted foreign policy experience on which she has based her White House run.

Fast Forward March 25, 2008: A friend of mine who went with me to Washington DC that December of 1999 read about the speech I made to fellow students about my dinner at the White House. He sent me pictures of our trip by email from Germany. He circled the picture I took with Bill Clinton. It was a life-size cardboard photo of the president that I took pictures with and not the real thing. I also appeared in a picture with a poster of Hilary and Chelsea behind me.

In my reply to my friend in Germany, I wrote, “Oops, I misspoke.”