I honestly cannot speak for other nationalities because I cannot pretend to know too much about what makes them tick but there is an attribute the British have that I love and it is their inclination to back and appreciate the underdog. “Well done. Smashing effort. Better luck next time” is very typical of the Brits to say. If nothing else, it is an encouragement that there should be the next time.
Maybe that is why we do not see too much unholy desperation to win at all cost. Barring the look of disappointment on the face of the losing side, it can be quite a task to figure out which side won, as both sides receive almost equal praise. And because of this encouragement, the losing side feels adequately encouraged to try again. “Hopefully, just a little more effort should do it”, he would say to himself. This, therefore, means your silent prayers for people are not always enough. People need the odd word that will spur them on and make them feel that the effort they put into it was worth something and there is hope to get better. This can be crucial and I believe Nigerians have a way to go in this area. Here, everyone must always be seen to be on the winning side because no one wants to be associated with “losing”. I read somewhere that the only people who deserve to be referred to as “losers” are those who after falling, refuse to get up and try again, and not those who merely encounter a temporary defeat or setback. If Abraham Lincoln had not had enough people around to encourage him after his many failures in life, I doubt he would have had the fortitude and the belief in himself to carry on. His sixth sense which kept telling him he had an appointment with destiny would have been dismissed as mere wishful thinking. After two failed attempts in business and eight, yes eight failed attempts to win elections at the state legislature, Congress and Senate, he eventually landed the biggest of them all, the Presidency. And the irony is that this man who must have been labelled a failure by some, as he kept coming up short in multiple endeavours, became arguably the best and certainly the most revered President in US history. If he had listened to the deafening discouragement of silence, we would never have heard his name. Along the way, there were those who still clapped for him, applauded his tenacity and encouraged him to give it another push. The cheers were loud and clear.
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The fear of mockery is just one reason why our people feel they must win at all costs and it is destroying us. Literally. It has noticeably led to elasticity in values and a blurring of the line between right and wrong in our society. It has desensitized us to the feelings of others, rendering the underdog an “orphan” in the most competitive arenas of life. The absence of encouragement at the right time has led to the abortion of glorious destinies, as abandoned dreams lay scattered on the bye lanes. Such people had been made to feel they lacked the talent to succeed. So, they gave up.
Self-esteem and belief in oneself, required to carry on had been consistently chiselled away by those not sensitive enough to realize just how much their actions or inactions affected others. I have noticed over and over again, how our people find it hard to clap at functions to salute the effort of performers, except when the performance attains a level they define as perfection. This really gets to me. Little thought is given to the poor chap at the receiving end.
The fear of mockery is just one reason why our people feel they must win at all costs and it is destroying us.
I remember a time at school. I must have been thirteen or fourteen years old. Each of the school Houses had worked hard at putting together a musical stage play. It was not a matter of simply selecting the best actors your House had and putting those boys forward to represent you. No, that was far from the idea. Yes, everyone knew it was meant to be a competition between Houses but everyone had to be involved in one way or the other. So, it was quite common to see a hairy, baritone-voiced Sixth Former playing a maiden and putting on the most ridiculous falsetto voice in an attempt to sound female. The more unlikely the candidate, the better. On the surface, the goal was to win but the real name of the game was to teach the boys to cooperate with each other. Very much like life, cooperation and collaboration keep the wheel spinning. A mindset of “me, myself and I” can only get one so far, and it certainly will not take anyone to anywhere good. A man who refuses to learn the art of collaborating with others to achieve a common goal can be nothing but a liability to any team he is attached to. His selfish attitude will always get in the way. His stunted social skills, required to interact harmoniously from a place of patience, tolerance and understanding with others, would prove to be a major roadblock to producing desirable results. Not well versed in the subtle art of giving a little to take a little, his attitude will just “scatter” everything. Kindly forgive my colloquial language but you know there are some terms you just have to use to adequately capture the essence of what you’re trying to say. There are times when grammar just does not cut it. Anyway, the House plays were much enjoyed by pupils, teachers and parents alike. It presented an opportunity to let our hair down and have some fun. So, on one of these nights, our House was called to perform. My part was a very small one, so thankfully, not much could go wrong. About seven of us stood in a line and we took it in turns to step out and sing a very short solo before stepping back into line. Straightforward enough. So, as it got to my turn, I stepped forward, matching the gusto of those who preceded me. And…that was it. I had forgotten my lines. I quickly cast my eyes around the hall, from the right to the left but the words were nowhere to be found. After giving myself a couple of seconds which felt like an hour, I quickly stepped back into line. You cannot imagine how embarrassed I was. The whole world, or so it seemed, stood still for me and in the end…nothing. Of course, my mates did not let me hear the last of it for the next week or so but what should I expect? In typical English fashion though, the teachers and parents just laughed it off as one of those things that can happen to anybody. With a genuine smile, parents greeted me with, “good effort Akandi”. They could never pronounce it as Akande, with the second “a” sounding like an “o” as we Yoruba pronounce it. “Do not worry, you’ll do better next time” or “you did better than I would have” were the typical greetings that night. Anything to make me feel better about myself and realize it was not the end of the world. Nobody bothered me by asking what happened because that was painfully obvious. Stage fright had caused me to forget my lines. Plain and simple. In the end, however, the applause was no less and I was encouraged to “fight” another day. Changing the nation… one mind at a time.
