Skip to main content

WHY DO YOU WANT TO WIN?



He was seven years old, in basic 2 when his mother dragged him across his primary school hall because he attained the third position in his class out of 30 pupils. On their way home, she yelled, hit, blamed and threatened that if he dared to come third again, there would be no more privileges like tv, games, sports, swimming lessons, etc. When they got home, she summoned his private tutor, passing the leftover anger and frustration on the man who had been tutoring her son for the past six months. 

“If you think that calling you three times a week to teach my son is a joke, you are the joker here. I pay you better than any of your clients, yet my son still comes as the third-best pupil in his class. Is it that those who came first and second were created specially or, do they have seven brains in one head? You better fix this in the coming term because there is nothing meant for my son than to be the winner. No place for third or second place in this house!”


“Why do you always want to win, Chike?”

“I don’t know, Doc. I carry the blood of the Williams, maybe that’s why. Losing is like giving up a pound of my flesh even if my story has no connection with The Merchant of Venice. I feel useless when I fall below my expected goal; it’s almost as if I become invisible to others when I fail at a task or exam. It could also be because I have been taught that failure is for the weak; I never want to be weak, Doc. My wife does not understand this, and here I am with you, trying to let down my guard. Why? So she can be the superstar of the marriage and not me. Or so she can make me feel less important.”


They call it BOJUBOJU. It's a hide and seek game that children play. You are to find the others wherever they might have hidden, to win the game. If you do not do this in time, you lose. Bintu was not so good in this game because she checked obvious places. Her brother was the hero all the time because he had eyes like an eagle. Bintu gave up on the game, focusing on knitting with her grandma instead.


“Why are you too comfortable?”

“Hmm, that’s a tough question you know… I think I have most of what I need, so I see no reason to stress my mind for things that I guess most people want to have in life.”

“Things like what?”

“Things like lots of money, the best of jobs, the latest cars, destination trips and other accolades that make people respect you. It’s not as if I am not interested in having a good life but if I have to compete with anyone for it, a far cry it becomes. Tomorrow always takes care of itself, as my father would say. Besides, every time I saw myself competing for anything in the past, I always lost." 


She had been the president of the women’s swimming club for five years straight. It was a new year with the election drawing closer. She was not interested in becoming the president for another year. However, the feeling of losing to her opponent was tragic. “Can I just hear that I won the most votes while my opponent takes the presidential seat?” When election day arrived, she was sweating like a thief. This was when she had to ask herself: “Why do I even want to win? I am tired of the post and could use the meeting times for a better activity in my weekly routine.” When she was proclaimed the winner, the sweating ceased and she felt an affirmation that she was good enough, that people loved her and that her dignity would be intact. 


The spirit of winning is human even though Fred Quimby used a cat and a mouse named Tom and Jerry to relate this feeling. You can call it victory, triumph, growth, prize money, etc. Many times it is accompanied by failure standing at the other side, crying, frowning, feeling jealous, regretting, rewinding and all sorts of if-toh-say thoughts. Some people have learned to celebrate with winners, some winners have learned to share their trophies with their opponents. Even our religion preaches winning. Our sports scream it. As for our daily survival quest, it blares it. In Nigeria, failing is not up for discussion; if you fail you might lose your life. If there is fuel scarcity, you must win at fuel station queues. If the power grid is down, you must still win PHCN with your generator. If ASUU is on strike, you must win against an employer looking for a not more than 25 years old employee. If Buhari is in town, you must win traffic. If you are frustrated, you must win the urge to get drunk or you would get slapped by Bianca. If you are a police officer, you must win the urge to collect bribes. You must inspire to aspire to perspire so that you can acquire as our motivational gurus would say!


In your struggle to win, it is necessary to consider the advantages and disadvantages. May we learn how to win not just for ourselves but for others. Even Putin wants to win. Unfortunately, not all of us can be winners. But we can support others to gain victory and be awarded the best supporting actor; it will still be a good recognition. For those who persevered when failure smiled at you daily, you are our Einstein. Cheers to the fathers and mothers who had to fail for their children to succeed; you are our inspiration. To all the bosses who have treated their staff with respect, you are our Bitcoin. Winning is the sweetest when we all win together in the end!


Don't forget to be honest!

 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

MAKEOVER

  When she realized her hair was gone, the barber had increased the volume of his radio and India Arie’s ‘I am not my hair’ filled the room. ‘If I can manage the situation like a professional, my construction contract with her father will hold tomorrow,’ I thought. I breathe in and out, a logic that never works for me, but I do it anyway. I rehearse my words, changing each sound to a softer version of the previous one - aligning my looks to the words so that my eyes become half closed and there is a faint smile on my face. I wait for the explosion. All the while, the barber is busy touching what is left on her head with his clipper. He says it is the final addition and calls it the moon look. He fumbles with the chair, turning Stella from left to right like a child’s play. The large mirror in front of us escalates the mishap and the fumes on my girlfriend’s face seem to be burning the white walls. It was meant to be a makeover since her 25 th birthday was the next day. Now it...
4 comments
Read more

WHEN IT RAINS IT POURS

In those days, when it rained we would stay by the window and watch how the trees danced to the beats of the wind, the singing of raindrops and thunder. The lighter the music, the closer our legs would get to the door post, quietly watching the eyes of our mother; and waiting for an approval. When she wiggled her legs, it was a negative signal. But when she praised the beautiful works of God in the rainy moment, it was a positive sign. Note, there was no going outside when it rained in the night. That was why Joseph composed the song: Rain visit us when the sun is not old Rain sing for us when the moon is not young So that mother will open the door for us to play with you So that papa will come home dry and happy. Rain visit us as we sing to you. Rain oh rain oh rain. That particular day, the rain was deaf to our singing, or calling and yelling. We became frustrated because the sun was kissing the lines of the sea, workers were returning home while livestock owners were gathering their...
5 comments
Read more

WHEN WE ARE OLD

  I heard them laughing, pointing at different buildings at each bus stop. Some were tall, old, and short buildings but they had something in common. They were whitewashed. The daughter talked more than her mother. She even laughed out loud sometimes as if they were the only passengers onboard. They occupied the first two seats on the deck of the bus and could see the clouds moving slowly even better than the driver. The daughter pointed to a small house and said to her mother:  “Ma, do you remember Auntie Debbie? She used to live in a tiny house just like that. Ha-ha! It was too small to even accommodate our cat when I was 7, remember?” “Yes, I remember darling. But you’re all grown up, tired of kitty. She is all mine now.” They both smiled and then the daughter mumbled something, and it turned into a wild laugh, as if something went awry in their heads. My mother will not laugh with me like this. Never! I thought. In fact, I dared not laugh at anyone’s house - big or small. ...
2 comments
Read more