In the recent past, when I was still learning the ropes as a peripatetic speaker, I encountered a very sad episode. So far, I have only shared this sob story to people who visit my Penman Centre in Nairobi: to enquire about what it takes to access success in this sphere of public speaking. More so, in secondary schools.
This is what happened. In my whistle-stop-tours to promote my tricks of trade, I visited one of the schools in my home county – Siaya – home of veritable academic giants. It was a top-tier extra-county boys’ school started by the Mill Hill Missionaries in 1927: the year of our Lord and Saviour – Jesus Christ. The school sits in my home town. It is close to where I was born and brought up. Or in case you like, the place my umbilical cord was cut and placenta buried.
Ideally, I went there to market the Penman Programmes. When I arrived in the school, I ambled into the posh Principal’s office. I introduced myself as a sage fond of the stage. Of course, I focused on necessary aspects of introduction in that context. The Principal asked about my alma mater, former secondary school. When I cited the small school that I went to, he gave me a condescending look.
Then, he told me that he would not allow someone who went to such a ‘small’ school to talk in such a ‘top’ school. I was crest-fallen like an old leaf. I was shell-shocked. Instead of letting bygones be bygones, he still judged me with my past. Had he read wise words of Mark Twain? Quoth he: “It is not the size of the dog in the fight. Instead, it is the size of the fight in the dog.
Meaning, even after telling him that I was now a professional, through his supercilious lenses, maybe, I looked like a boisterous boy yelling in the chest of the village. In this case, not even a university student, but a student in a ‘small’ secondary school. He also picked one of my books titled Boys, Be Men. He skimmed through it in posthaste. Again, he picked a word there. It was ‘esteem’, which I indicated that it means ‘respect’. It is like he wanted us to argue about it. Fortunately, I had read him like a heroic book. I had discerned the silent conflict he was dragging me into. He was caught flat-footed.
READ ALSO:
In a broader sense, when I share my programmes with any Principal, and s/he nods to it, I appreciate it. I thank God for every door He opens. Conversely, when the Principal refuses to work with us, I also take it in good stride. Interestingly, some of those school arrowheads have a short stint in those institutions. After sometime, they get transfers to other schools. This is also a wakeup call to others who are not Principal but think that they own schools. I write to them. Schools belong to the Ministry of Education (MoE). Teachers Service Commission (TSC) can post Principals and teachers in any institution. Too true. Principals do not steer those dhows forever.
New captains come on board at the stroke of the pen by men and women that call the shots at the epic peak of TSC. Serendipitously, the new sheriffs in town are always quick to work with others based on their qualifications and competencies. In fact, when we make overtures, they even ask: Where have you been? This has happened to us in several schools. It has occurred for the umpteenth time. This tells you that we have level-headed Principals who are not corrupt. They do not judge service-providers based on age, tribe, schools they attended, et cetera.
Then, as I penned in one of my pieces, this work has made me know the meaning of the word NO — Next Opportunity. In this life rife with strife, when you knock a particular door, and the occupants refuse to open it, your heart is hurt. But when you are rejected, do not feel dejected like a wet hen. Interestingly, when you move to the next door, the story possibly becomes different. They open the door in a swift speed.
As I sit to weave these words, God has been good and gracious to us. God’s grace that manifests through favour factor has taken us to schools in around 40 counties. So far, as I weld these words, the only counties we have not visited include: Garissa, Wajir, Mandera, Tana River, Turkana, Lamu and Kwale. I know, in the fullness of time, we will be in some schools in those counties to colour what other great Kenyans have built. In this essay, I can say: Lovers of fish and English who are autochthons of Gem, believe: Time heals all wounds. Even those ones that fester faster.
In the whole scheme of things, as you read this, I want you to know that most of us who visit schools to talk to students, we see it as a crucial chance to serve with love. It is a privilege. Not a prerogative per se. In my case, because I am human, fallible and feeble like blades of green grass, I have my litany of weaknesses. As I travel here and there: to do this and that, especially this, I may not be the best among the rest. But I am driven by the wise words of Maya Angelou, the putative author of I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. Her winsome wisdom dotes on anecdotes and quotes. She once observed: “A bird does not sing because it has answers, but it sings because it has a song to sing.”
Splendid indeed, human beings who are conscious of their talents and gifts, always long to surge to the stage, and manifest at their best. Some people have songs like birds of passage that chirp as they fly and perch on trees. Some people are dancers, who dance and prance beyond skeletal limits. Some people are writers who look for writing spaces to show-case their ability to write right. Some people are spell-binding speakers and silver-tongued orators who look for audiences to hold in thrall.
On those who scout for chances to deliver speeches, in this context, schools, Principals play an integral role in this. In most cases, someone would hardly secure a chance to speak to students in a school without the Principal’s consent. Or of those who call the shots. Like in my case, I went to search for a crucial chance in a school in my home county.
But how the Principal treated me, made me think about John 1:45-46: Philip found Nathanael and told him, “We have found the one Moses wrote about in the Law, and about whom the prophets also wrote — Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph.” “Nazareth! Can anything good come from there?” Nathanael asked. “Come and see,” said Philip.
I hope you know that my allusions to Jesus of Nazareth does not mean that I want a small share of His great glory. Like John the Baptist, I choose to decrease for Him to increase. I just want you to reflect on Nathanael’s question: Can anything good come from Nazareth? Whether the question carries contempt or disbelief, I leave that to you, the reader. For somewhere I read. There are two types of writers: those who think, and those who make people think. Right from the onset of my penmanship, I chose to fall in the latter category of serious scribes.
Again, I cannot say that the Principal did not nod to my request to lend credence to that statement I treat as a trite: A prophet does not get honour in his land. That day of rejection, conscience and conviction convinced me that the Principal had a bad attitude. About me? Maybe. About people? Maybe, we shall ascertain that before I close this case. But right away, Principals must know that how they handle staff, students, parents and guests, have a way of coming back to them. It is the central plank of this thesis. I call it Boomerang Effect.
Let me try and bring the Boomerang Effect into this sob story. In public relations, the Boomerang Effect happens when you deliver a message hoping to produce a certain response or reaction, but it turns out to be the opposite of what you thought it would be. In Psychology, the Boomerang Effect is when efforts to persuade someone result instead in an opposite outcome.
In a nutshell, a boomerang would be a carved piece of wood, which comes back to you if you throw it in the correct way. There are those who believe, if you throw a boomerang the correct way, it will come back to you. It is the same way with offences. When you offend another person, the offense it will return to you in one form or another.
Therefore, with such knowledge, we should strive to treat people the way we would wish to be treated in the present and future. When you are a Principal, treat staff, students, parents and guests in the right manner. When you handle them with a comportment of contempt, you may not know what is in the offing on your side. Instanced in my case, this Principal could just have told me no, we cannot work and walk together. Instead of crushing my spirit and contrite heart. He went wrong to show me that a graduate of a ‘small’ school could not speak in a ‘top’ school. What a sad state of affairs?
Now that it is God, who holds the yam and the knife, He ensured that He created two incisive sessions to prove to the disrespectful administrator that he was utterly wrong. I received cordial invitation to address Principals of Siaya County at Ciala Resort in Kisumu. He was in that meeting of mighty minds. Then, I received another cordial invitation: to speak to members of the Student Council from all the schools in Siaya County. Interestingly, we met there as co-facilitators. In such an instance, it is easier to look like a dog chasing its tail.
Lastly, the time for him to transfer to another school came. I did not like what happened to him. It was not easy for him to land. I may not know what went ahead of him. Maybe, people heard about how he treated stakeholders in the former stations. Hence, they remained hell-bent to reject his forays into their territory. It was not a good thing for the mental health of a man who is at the verge of retirement. More so, when we look at the word ‘retire’ as ‘re-tire’ — an opportunity to change the tyres of the vehicle, which is the retiree.
By Victor Ochieng’
Travelogue: Chronicles of a peripatetic speaker. vochieng.90@gmail.com. 0704420232
You can also follow our social media pages on Twitter: Education News KE and Facebook: Education News Newspaper for timely updates.
>>> Click here to stay up-to-date with trending regional stories
