The scene is set in 2017. Four interviewers sit in a fancy office in Nairobi city. Two ladies, and two gentlemen. They look at me tenaciously, trying to analyze my every expression and movement. On the other side of the massive table in the office, I sit composed in my new suit. With me, I had two documents, one being my well-drafted resume, confident that I would answer every question thrown at me perfectly: Answering truthfully didn’t matter at the moment; perfection was the goal.
I had studied what they wanted to hear, so I crammed the questions and their answers too. One of them, a lady, starts writing down something in her notebook while looking at me, and I start to wonder whether she’s writing about how fast I’m blinking; am I doing it too slowly? Do I look sleepy?… I soon forget how to blink.
“So Christine, what are your plans after campus? What do you plan to do in the next ten years?”
Having studied for the interview, I knew my worst question was eventually going to come, and I had prepared for it. I clear my throat and dictate a paragraph I had probably gotten from the internet, which I can no longer remember because, to be honest, I did not know the answer to that question. I have never known it.
Ever since I started school, I always knew what the next step of my life would be. Mostly because it was stipulated by the education system. After kindergarten (or nursery school as we called it), we would proceed to primary school, complete the 8 years required to transit to high school, and finally to tertiary education.
I finally got to the point where I had to gain clarity on my own. This realization hit me hard when I joined campus; The University of Nairobi (yes, the ‘The’ was very necessary). It was a strange transition: For the first time in my life, I didn’t know where to go next. Nothing had been put in place for me to follow. Maybe it was too early to think about all that, but the questions started coming in. What did that mean? Did I have to think for myself now? Absurd. What if I get it wrong? What if I failed? What if I disappointed everyone who was rooting for me?
“And you? When will you begin that long journey into yourself?”
― Rumi
All these feelings and emotions came to me occasionally, mostly in class, or simply when a lecturer mentioned her career. How did she get there? I would wonder. Did she know what she wanted from the beginning?
Evidently, you can see why being asked where I wanted to be in 10 years was scary to me, considering I didn’t know where I wanted to be in the next 3 years- Or 2- Or even a few months later to be honest. All I knew is that I wanted to be successful, I didn’t have clarity around that and it made me feel like I was failing miserably. Most of my friends seemed to have had it figured out; some already landing jobs as early as our second year, others quitting school to work, while I was just there, going with what had been set for me. In the real sense, I was walking in pre-described darkness. I wasn’t doing anything with a purpose, I just was winging it.
Luckily, there was hope. The last few years of campus changed drastically for me, and this is because of one major step I decided to take, inspired by one of my lecturers actually. While collaborating on a project with him, I noticed something different. He constantly asked questions, even to me, which was surprising. Questions I would call “dumb”. Questions on what we should do next: One of the smartest and most knowledgeable people I knew, was asking me for advice! That was monumental for me.
Through that experience, I was able to learn something new; to become more knowledgeable , you have to realize that you do not know anything first.
I started asking questions; for help or advice. Walking in the dark was much better now since there was a hand leading me along the way. As I was led, the light began to appear; slowly but surely. I asked for guidance from my teachers and even students who had completed their studies. I sought clarity on what I should do, what jobs were worth taking, and what I could learn to improve on myself, and through asking for help, I grew out of my cocoon of fear, and I began to soar.
My view of the world changed, I was learning and unlearning different things. I discovered what worked for me, what sparked the interest inside me, and most importantly, the people who made me want to become a better version of myself; the alpha version if you will.
I grew more intentional in everything I did; applied for jobs, even those that I wasn’t fully, sometimes not completely qualified for, but I was willing to bet on myself. The worst that could happen would be getting rejected, but even so, it was good enough that I tried. I made the decision to keep asking for guidance, keeping in mind that there was always someone who knew things that I needed to know.
As I write this now, I realize that I am only beginning my journey; I have a whole lot more to learn, which is exciting for me. I believe in the power of seeking help and I’m particularly excited about the next chapter in my life, where I join a new family at Impact Africa Network, where your skill truly matters and your hand is held.
Lacking clarity in one’s vision is experienced by most people, but what makes the difference is what you choose to do about it. I am happy to be associated with an organization that champions for mentorship, and in the near future, I believe I could scale the impact by mentoring others.
If I had a time machine that took me back to my 2017 scene, I would probably wear the same suit (the suit was pretty awesome, to be honest), but this time, I have learned to seek to answer the personal questions truthfully, more so than perfectly.
And now, my worst question will be the one I look forward to answering.
