By Ng’ang’a Mbugua
Too often, those who are better off economically, socially
and academically under-estimate the value and power of self-confidence, either
because they have it and take it as a matter of course or they do not believe
that others can be taught to cultivate it.
This is largely why opinion shapers who are perceived as
accomplished men and women downplay the importance of motivational books. But
they are, to use a popular expression, already in the choir and as far as they
are concerned, there is no point in preaching to the already converted.
Yet, when many people are starting out on their life
journeys, they are often filled with self-doubt and plagued by a lack of
confidence despite their burning desire to become achievers. Think of the young
man who falls in love but lacks the courage to walk up to the girl of his
dreams and express his feelings in words. Think of the days and weeks that this
love torments his heart, then one day he hears the song about the country boy
who was in love with a Mexican girl, only she did not know it. Emboldened by
the lyrics, the boy summons all the courage he can muster, ignores his pounding
heart and dry mouth and walks upto the girl, introduces himself and then tells
her that he loves her. Motivational books work much the same way.
Take David Waweru’s book, Champion,
first printed last year and reprinted this year. The publisher-turned writer, who is the CEO of WordAlive Publishers,
narrates how, as a young man from a poor neighbourhood in Nairobi, he yearned
to become a champion boxer and how his life circumstances made his dream appear
unreachable. He hailed from a poor
family, he was brought up by a single mother who had escaped from an abusive
marriage, he knew no one who was a boxer and he had no money with which to buy
the equipment he needed for his training. In short, there was no one he could
look up to for guidance. Yet, by dint of his determination, he formed a boxing
club, approached the city council to give them a training venue and, with a
group of other young enthusiasts, approached a trainer recommended to them by
the council.
To raise the money they needed to buy equipment and pay the
trainer, the group started engaging in odd jobs and businesses, including
organising discos during which they sold the snacks they had made themselves.
In the end, Waweru and the others worked their way into the championships and
despite facing tough opponents, injury and other challenges, he become a
champion boxer in the early 1980s.
Fastforward to decades later. How many young men and women
are to be found in rural areas or urban slums today, all of them yearning to
reach for their dreams but who do not know where to start? How many of these
potential champions would get a life-changing experience if, perchance, they
were to read Waweru’s book?
At the time I was reading this book, I was training my
one-year-old son to walk. I discovered then that his biggest challenge was not
in the legs but the self-doubt in his head. Even when his body was willing and
capable, he would not make that step until he was convinced he could. And that
was where I came in.
That, generally speaking, is what motivational literature
does to all those who look at their circumstances and declare: “I can’t do
this. Who am I to accomplish such a feat?”
According to Waweru, behaviour always follows belief.
“Self-belief,” he argues in the book, “can be a greater asset
than previous experience: yet many of us allow lack of experience to keep us
from trying.”
One of the criticisms leveled against motivational books is
that they are overly concerned with teaching only how to accumulate money. In
his book, however, Waweru says that for him, making money was not an end in
itself. He sees money as a resource that can help those with a dream to achieve
their goals. Giving the example of his boxing career, he says that he first
ventured into business to raise money to finance his sport, including paying
his trainer. He had discovered that without money, he could not facilitate his
dream.
“I never focused on getting money for money’s sake,” Waweru
says in the book. “For me, it was a tool to reach my aspiration of becoming a
champion.”
This is an important lesson especially for those who argue
that an obsession with money is all there is to motivational books.
Not so long ago, a friend posted on Facebook a story about
how one Sunday, some ducks waddled into the equivalent of their church for a
sermon and their preacher went on and on, telling them how God had given them
wings and that it was within the power of each duck to soar like an eagle.
“Amen,” the ducks shouted at every stage. But when the sermon
was over, each again, waddled back to their homes in the pond.
This story, in short, illustrates a popular view held by
critics of motivational literature. As far as they are concerned, the books
preach a false gospel by promising more than it can deliver and creating hope
where there is none.
Think for a moment about the Wright brothers, Wilbur and
Orville, who started off as bicycle repairers in their neighbourhood. What did
their neighbours think of them the first time they declared: “We believe we can
fly?”
Were they told “of course you can?” or was their declaration
greeted with skepticism?
One of the questions that has animated literary debate since
the invention of printing is this: What is the role of literature in society?
It is a question that formal literary critics, even in Kenya, have grappled
with for decades.
There are those who argue that literature is an attempt to
grasp at a higher truth. This, however, spawns another question, which is as
pertinent to literature as it is to religion, philosophy and politics: Is there
one Truth or are there multiplicities of truths?
Every writer, reader and literary critic must seek their own
answers to these two important questions. The point, however, is that just as
there are those who grasp the ultimate truth(s) through fiction or poetry,
there are, too, those for whom motivational literature offers the path of
enlightenment. The path to knowledge taken by each is as valid as that taken by
the other.
In Champion, Waweru
offers insights from his own life. Besides his ambition to become a boxer, he
also wanted to become a writer, largely because he enjoyed reading. But he
discovered that he could have a greater influence as a publisher because he
would bring out the ideas of diverse people rather than just his own. Now he
has gone and written, offering inspiring lessons that offer insights on how to
become achievers in life, in sport and in business. And all are grounded in
real life experiences.
A shorter version of this story was first published in the Saturday Nation on August 30
