It undoubtedly feels amazing to be ‘special’ or at least to have the perception of being special.
Turning 29 on a 29th makes me feel indeed special. A feeling I only
find grounded in my weird sense of humour. I guess for many special must be in
the big things which by all means should confirm our uniqueness. I seek to tell
you an interesting life tale with the intent to inspire you to believe in your
uniqueness. I guess for me I have settle my ‘awesomeness’ in the facts of how
young I turn today and the date on which I turn such number.
I know a little something about rejection and that makes
me wonder if I have the moral right to talk about feeling special. But again
who else to guide our fragile humanity to the sacred yearnings of loved but he
who knows a little something about the search.
A short while before my 13th birthday in 2000
is a good place to begin. Unbelievably 16 years ago which makes me feel
literally like a dinosaur. I was in junior secondary school, the day of the
‘selection’ of the school’s leadership. I grew in a small town in the
Brong-Ahafo region. Our senior prefects for this local authority junior
secondary school were revered and loved. For a small town as Duayaw Nkwanta
was, been selected as the school prefect for L/A was a big deal. That was about
all the honour one could bestow on his family. You may even get lucky with the
most beautiful girls crushing on you.
Every year all the students looked forward to that day
when the announcements will be made, the day the new Eagles are hatched. The news
of who was selected to what position will usually spread in town and you are
sure to get some attention if even you were as invincible as I was. The feeling
of been ‘selected’ was I guess the best part of it all since it makes one feel
special. I looked forward to this day with hopes to at least boost my
self-image which had at best eroded under prior life experiences or at worst to
find one for confidence which never was. I did believe I could make the school
prefect because although I was not the best student (never have been in any
class ever), I guess I just believed in hope.
The dread of the moment came in the slightly hilly grooves
of our school. The foliage appeared more peaceful as though all the vegetation had
settled to hear the call to greatness. The silence was deafening when the
teacher finally appeared to make call. The announcement will always start with
the most honourable and end with the least remarkable. All the people who had
merited the call had been called out separately before the general assembly and
everyone waited anxiously for the bell to summon us to witness such hallowed
moments.
Of course, my hopes went even higher when I was called as
part of the bigger group of nominees. To cut through the long story, the
teacher started calling the leader. With my hand literally clutched in my mouth
and my eyes closed, praying to the God of my hope that my name becomes the
first person. The first name was mentioned and as you may have guessed by now,
it wasn’t mine. Still hopeful for the assistant, that again wasn’t my name. The
teacher went through all the ‘important’ leadership positions even through the
session leaders which was for the average ones. All the session were gone and I
had still not heard my name. At this point, I was not only confused but was
cold sweating. Everybody in the big group was called but me. There was yet one
position and I was the only one left but that definitely couldn’t be I said to
myself. Perhaps this was the worst position and it was indeed the practice to
give this post to a first year student because it was deemed demeaning. So I
thought again maybe a new position had been created for me, yet dreaming of how
special I was.
For the first time, recent history had been broken. The
bell boy had to be named and ‘tadaa’, there my mine comes shining in lights. That
right there, I was frozen in time overwhelmed with a feeling my 12 year old
brain could not understand. I remember crying whiles everybody laughed at me, I
had not only gotten my hopes crushed but the self-esteem I had sought to find
had taunted and escaped me.
I was teased terribly on my way home, although that was
not the first time I had suffered such mass ridicule, it is probably the worst.
And it was because of broken dreams, a feeling of being special had been
flushed out with the force of hurricane Matthew perhaps. I swore never to touch
the bell but again I was only a joker who was beaten (literally) into
conformity. For the early days, I will not ring the bell and I will be caned in
front of everyone as a sign of my insubordination. I was fragile and young,
however ambitious and strong willed. My will couldn’t last a week, I had been
broken into a miserable helpless child who was at the whip of a teacher who
sought to put me in my place for being ‘too-known’. I will pick the bell after
several beating only to feel what I looser I was. I rang the bell for almost a
year until the next year when a new bell boy was selected, and it indeed did go
to a first year student. I did then feel special, but the looser kind of
special.
I wonder why I tell this story on my birthday when I am
sure most of my mates may have forgotten and this will be almost impossible for
anyone who knows me now to believe. I share this because the just ended year
was equally humbling. Exactly a year ago, I had the first robbery in three
subsequent once. I spent my last birthday missing the few love I will usually
get annually. Having been robbed three times in a year, with one at gunpoint, I
most definitely must be tempted to fell special for all the wrong reasons
again.
For some readers today, you may be beautiful, charming, intelligent,
or any such thing that makes you a favourite and likable by many, if not all.
By all means enjoy such graces and never be apologetic about it. This post
however is for the one person who may have felt the sting of rejection and pain
and seeming have nothing to make them feel such special.
The story will definitely not be complete if I fail to
share the amazing gift these life realities turned to be. The circumstances
were packages of a present, a gift I surely did have need for. I was but blessed
with Grit and Gravitas. I learnt to pick the bells not knowing I was learning the
value of time. I usually decided to end everybody’s break earlier getting all
the backlash and remaining unperturbed about it. I learnt strength and focus
from what my young mind had only interpreted as a failure. Grit and gravitas
has been the two most helpful gifts I have ever have received judging with the
benefit of hindsight. Like diamond these virtues did not come easily and I was
privileged it was forged into my very essence before I could even get to be a
teenager.
Let me conclude with reflection from Aya Stark from Game
of Thrones (Yes, I am hooked too). She is my favourite character in the whole TV
show and I am sure many love her too. I love her for her strength, maturity and
resilience. Every stories of any hero/heroine that is ever told is a story of
extraordinary strength. Do I pretend that the scares of some of these events
doesn’t exist? Of course they do but the truth will remain that I have been
made a better person because of these events and many other lessons learnt the
hard way. To give perspective of how flourishing God has made me from these
tough times, I am on my third amazing job in the same space of the last one
year excelling at two different expansive and extremely important managerial
positions in three banks. Strength I couldn’t have found but for grit and gravitas, lessons I have only have to learn in the corridors of
great pain, rejection and discomfort. I share my birthday with you, urging you
to hold on and refine you character. Let the diamond forge its might strength
in you and discovery shall come. Sooner than you can believe if you did build
grit and gravitas you cannot be withheld.
