At the beginning of the month of April, we were nominated to attend an online training on corporate governance.
During the training, our trainer was busy sipping his tea or whatever gin may have been in there and occasionally smoking his cigarette. The trainer seemed quite knowledgeable on the subject of discussion, and he had made his research as you could tell from his presentation.
The presentation was screaming preparation.
At the beginning of the session, I thought the smoke was just steam from the cup until I saw him pull out his cigar and puff away. He not only made a great presentation on the subject but also skillfully smoked his cigarette.
He gave us a lunch break of an hour and he quickly joked that he was going to turn off his video else we are embarrassed watching him dance in his break.
The over analyzer that I am though, couldn’t let me move on right after the session and I kept wondering why he was smoking.
Is it a way of calming his nerves as he presents? Is it an addiction? Is it a just a leisure activity? Is it just disrespectful of him because he is white, and he is training three Africans? In fact, three East African Ugandans? As an African you need to add all the possible descriptions in the analysis process.
I recall as a young child there are certain things we would not do in public or in the presence of adults. It was even worse for a girl child. I will share a brief story without anonymizing it.
When I was about 10 (ten) years or thereabouts; one of my Grandfather’s close friends or relative Mzee Alisen Rezida, the father of Uncle Alex Rezida( I am not sure what the exact blood relationship was or is or if it was one of those things where we called everyone uncle or grandpa) saw me loitering around with other village children and being who I am, I went to say hello after telling these friends how that was my grandfather.
Unfortunately for me, I was wearing trousers and soon after the hello, he chased me with his walking stick. He had one of those fancy ones where you rest your hand; it was for rich people. 🙂
So, this grandfather of mine with his cigar looked at me and said, “Ibyo nibiki wambaye? Wabaye umuhungu? Iruka basha uhindure” loosely translated; “what is that you are wearing? Have you become a boy? Run and go dress appropriately.
From that day on wards, whenever I would get out of our home, and I am headed anywhere I think I will bump into him I would endeavor to be “appropriately” dressed by the standards then.
As I have grown older and figured out my own dress code with a few occasional reservations tending to my upbringing and also generally experienced life’s beatings I am learning, and I continue to learn not to be judgmental but seek to understand others too.
Why? Because everyone is dealing. Culture needs to be preserved but to what extent?
Where do we strike a balance? Where do we draw the line and say now this, no we shall not kotow in the pohoo?
I would like to hear your views especially considering the technological developments.
Wishing you a mostly adaptive and techy savy June! Remember even as you adopt, don’t stretch your limits beyond what makes you content and fulfilled.
Every action should count for something, don’t do anything all in the name of just doing. Do it purposefully.
Hope & Faith,
F.I.R.M