I recently wore a size 17 shirt for a
really important event. On a good day when I feel very fat, I wear a 15 and
half, slim fit, so size 17 sure was a parachute. The event was once in a
lifetime event but I had only gotten myself in such a mess because I assumed. I
had assumed that, the shirt will fit because all the other accessories
accompanying the formal dress code fitted. I had ordered for the whole set and
so if one was okay, it was safe to assume the others were okay too, right? Well
wrong, and on this occasion, very wrong.
I bear my soul often in my writings, I
tell stories about myself, I share through the hurts, the painful childhood, fond
memories and hope that, at least one person may find inspiration and courage to
face each day at a time. As I tried to look for experiences to share, I was
reminded of a recent experience. Not a childhood memory, actually it is as
recent as less than a month but one that confirms one lessons I learnt from the
Boys Brigade, one of my childhood experiences that, transformed me.
Growing up, there was a woman in our
village, Maame Nyameama, who most of my classmates were terribly scared off, of
course including me. She was the dreadful symbol of all that was fearful but we
had to pass in front of her house, through her gardens to the hospital quarters
where I lived. The assumption however was, only the bad boys who stole from her
should be afraid and since I was a ‘good’ boy who only passed in front of her house
to my house, there was nothing to be scared of. And yet indeed, even as a child
and in all my innocence, assumptions did not make it truth. I was very wrong as she caught me and my
friend one day, gave us brooms to sweep her whole compound and it only took
someone going to report to my mother to save us from crying and the terror of
Maame Nyameama. Assumptions even in innocence had led me to an experience that
haunted me for days.
But today is definitely not about Nyameama,
today is about her only tenant, Lawyer, as we called him. He was a man who
owned a lotto kiosk around our school, always drunk and professed to know
everything. We used to ask him questions as we played with him. I grew up remembering
we called him Ndeporinga (or something really close, but I am sure I have
massacred his name). We all called him Lawyer Cupa. He had a great sense of humour and unlike
Maame Nyameama, he was the joy of most of my class mates and I.
I made a reference of him in an article
recently and humorous as the reactions were, some people assumed I meant someone
else. Some people I greatly respect and even may have considered friends had concluded
on an assumption and said things they would not have ordinarily said (I assume
yet again, perhaps, those are things they always wanted to say). Their comments
did reveal a lot, I like research and I was right in the middle on one. As I
enjoyed the emotional outpourings, I kept on asking myself, why does it appear
that humans can be completely wrong and yet truly sold to those falsehoods in
strength and commitment? To be completely honest, I cannot say, I did not
anticipate those assumption, but in that anticipation of error is my central
lesson, why do we assume too much? Why do we present as facts that which is at
best opinions bereft of evidence?
In chapter five of my new book, ‘Be the
Difference; A leadership Roadmap for the New African’, I discussed challenges I
think are cultural hindrances to an effective culture of leadership. The third
challenge out of the ten I could find is exactly the discussion of heuristics
and biases. A heuristic is a mental shortcut that allows people to
solve problems and make judgments quickly. These rule-of-thumb strategies
shorten decision-making time and allow us to function without constantly
stopping to think about the next course of action. While heuristics can speed
up our problem solving and the decision-making process, they can introduce
errors called the cognitive bias. Relying on an existing heuristic can make it
difficult to see alternatives, introducing false confidence, prejudice and
stereotyping.
I have learnt the hard way that, for
even constants like facts are supposed to be, one can be trapped by anchoring
facts in perspectives. For example, when the question of what is the tallest
mountain on earth is asked, the most likely answer you will hear is Everest.
But is Mountain Everest indeed the tallest mountain on earth? This question
reveals a lot about perspectives rather than absolutes of facts. The correct
answer to the highest mountain on earth will be, it depends on how you define
‘highest mountain’. Geology.com[1]
explains the answer to the question of highest mountain could be Everest, Mauna
Kae or Chimborazo.
I joined the Boys Brigade before my 6th
birthday, a group that taught me a lot of discipline. One thing we were taught to
pray was, ‘…that every member past and present, may prove steadfast in his fight…’.
The chant was always, ‘Will your anchor hold, in the storms of life?’. We always sought to find and to hold unto
truths, unwavering in the search and never concluding on the façade. We usually
played a game in our drills, the commander will keep on saying “Left, Right,
About, Right, left ...” and always left the ‘turn’ to catch as many as were not
paying attention. We kept eliminating until somebody won. The lesson was clear;
until you hear turn, no command had been given. It was a game I learnt to win
often, only because I was constantly reminding myself not to assume!
Let me conclude with yet another story,
all with the view of sharing the simple yet important lesson, ‘Do not present
as fact to anyone that which is at best opinions’. Akosua, my friend, put on
her status recently, “Nipple piercing hurt (with a crying emoji) but SOOO worth
it.” I responded and said, ‘Huh (with a laughter emoji and an outstretched
hands)’. She then sent me a list of ten options, I had become part of a game.
She then said, the comments by people are hilarious. I asked, how about the
many who may not have commented and only believed you just got your nipples
pierced? She responded with a big laughter and said, ‘That’s their problem’.
Indeed, that is our problem. May God be our helper. My name is Yaw Sompa and I
believe in Ghana.
