Of intrigues of Leadership and Public Relations Management.

Over the recent past I started going to bed with a notebook and pen adjacent to my pillow, of course for deliberate yet perceptual reasons. And specifically for this dream that wakes me up every morning; the dream to represent the people of my ward in the county assembly of Bomet comes 2017-thanks to the fervent conviction an induction of servant leadership at Daystar University.

The necessity of my notebook has been informed by an avalanche of ideas that often surge at 3:00am with an urge the heart can no more contain. Harmoniously, the head informs it that they would be safe if collaborated with ink and paper-for imminent future actualization.

Recently, it was a different wake up call. 3:38 Am. This time about educational orientation. As a final student and Public Relations major at Daystar, I am often keen at how PR comes into play in my day to day engagements. This can be attributed to the frequent fondly thought that I am soon leaving campus to the intriguing future of career with new horizons to pursue.

This thought is often conceived with mixed feelings; fear of the unknown and equally on the other hand is the excitement completing bachelors’ studies into a career of my own.

So how would the experience of my first job and its typical day be? Would what I find be an exact replica of what I learnt in class? Just as it woke me up this morning, these and much more akin questions many a times linger in my head.

While at Daystar, I serve in Daystar Compassion & Care Centre (DCCC), one of the student bodies in the university. This means every typical day is to handle people of different mettle and orientations. This day to day encounter occasionally pricks the learnt-in-class skills into play.

I often experience an ardent reminder of client relations and obviously reputation management; that of the organization as well as mine. As relatively important, DCCC has a clients’ reputation and so do i-and a slow-wittedness of any nature may subject it to compromise. An incorporation of PR for service delivery is at stake here.

So recently we organized the department’s end of semester event-a wrap up culminated by celebrating the semester’s achievements and certificate awarding to trainees of conducted trainings during the semester. To my standards as the boss, the ambiance of the event was relatively impressive. Sound, check.  Décor, check. The MC, perfect. Member and invites attendance, impressive. Invited quests, check. Most importantly time, check. Then came the last yet so crucial part-the hospitality department, food. Slightly past half the attendance got food.

Question, are public relations agents perfectionists? Or, are they supposed to be? Because let’s face it, a slight inconvenience may easily translate to a bad day especially after an event that some things went amiss-food for example. If anything goes wrong during or before an event, kindly check your moods at the door, your audiences do not need it. In fact some may have tagged along a baggage lot, so do not unleash yours to them. This is PR.

Back to the event. After being served, a few but relatively good number missed food. It was the mistake of the caterers not to have exhausted all our orders from their station. On the other hand, it was a shortcoming from our team not to have verified it before the event commenced. A PRO should learn from shortcomings positively. These are experiences that will accord your future event a sterling class.

As a leader, leadership is not always a bed of roses. It involves sacrifices, pressure, and like the aforementioned event, carrying all burden of embarrassment. We must expect these challenges. The greatest tragedy is only when you don’t learn from them. During such times and like as said by one Les Brown that When life knocks you down, try to land on your back. Because if you can look up, you can get up. Let your reason get you back up. Positivity is power.

I followed up the matter up the catering manager’s office. Here is where boardroom truths are told. No gloss overs here. In PR, mostly truth can mend an injured reputation. No spinning. Our conversation was inclined towards a win-win situation so as to uphold a spirit of working together again in future. In such a situation, no blame games, every part should admit their fault so as to give room for change. The first step in solving a problem is first admitting there is one.

Reputation management is not egocentric. You don’t taint the other stakeholder to your favor because there is a chance you may need them in future. With leadership and PR I have learnt not to use my time burning bridges for I never know when I’ll need their hand. Time and circumstances do change, you know.

*       *       *

From surging flow to a drip, so is the nature of my wake up calls. It is 5:38 am and thinking has been distracted by crowing cocks outside. I put on my stereo to listen to my favorite classic jam, ‘Have I told you lately that I love you’ by Rod Stewart... a song I love for no good reason-neither bad. I listen three times then adjust my alarm clock an hour and thirty from my former set. Then my partner and dream tank notebook to its place….waiting for the next wake up call.

Heart to Heart – Mzalendo Media

Heart to Heart – Mzalendo Media

"You create your own opportunities. I hope we realize that we are great and are capable of doing great things. This is from my heart to yours."

Shayne Ward - That's My Goal

Wow, what a beautiful song, it had me in tears. I am happy you did it without the worldly lust. Music is supposed to get you in the heart and that's what this one does. It is so hard to find clean songs these days. Thank you so much, I love it.

IN MY DAYS

In my days as a child, birth would place me fourth in a family of five. In the house of Eric -baby son of the agricultural legendary John Rator. In the arms of a woman, Priscilla, inarguably the first of her kind I ever set my eyes on. A few encounters with Ester, the no nonsense grandma, gave us bananas on every visit.

In my days of primary school, traversing the ever wet dewy mornings of renowned Kenya highlands; newly created Bomet County,sneaking out of school before time, hung out with Alpine -the fat boy who thought every bell was lunch time, boys’ supremacy fights out of school; immediate truce, friendly sliding through mud downstream.

In my days in the land of milk tea every morning, milk, maize and beans in midday and later ugali, sukuma wiki and again milk-without which a meal is incomplete. Ate chapati and mandazi for occasional visitors’ days; colored rice for Christmas, and when are the tea bonuses so as to taste meat?

In my days of no serious philosophical discussions with my father, only a few words of endearment; manyun, because I was probably his favorite -he still calls me so. Day to day moral and spiritual tutorials by mother -she still does.

In my days with my siblings, shared less with my elder two sisters; yearned for their school visiting days to ‘taste’ chapatti and three top juice, brotherly fights with my only elder brother; felt proud of his “touch my brother again and you will see” in school, tree climbing with baby sister every evening.

In my days herding in the downstream ranches, common phrases like “your cows invaded my farm and your mother must hear of this” and “wait until your father comes home; you are going to be in trouble”. In my days with Jimmy, my faithful dog friend -usually came to my rescue when mother is ‘working on me’, whose dog is fierce fights with village boys.

In my days of Sunday school every Sunday morning, father’s day for ‘fellowship’ with fellow wazee under tree or nearby shopping center, and “come home early, take care of home mother is going to church.”

In my days of secondary school, daily visits to the staffroom for all the wrong reasons, caned by inarguably every teacher, twice sent home for indiscipline, fancied outings, great debater, moments of football fanaticism; sneaking out of school to pay and watch foreign players make millions in 90 minutes, engaged in every mysterious deeds of the 90s kids, transformed the final year, passed and bragged to have survived high school.

In my days in the University, went back to the drawing board and realized “life is what you make it”, accorded my first leadership roles here, made friends, inspired people, was mentored and reciprocated, made mistakes and learnt from them, discovered myself and planned for the future.

My once hesitant, questionable and now confident and exemplary character makes me so promising, playing a significant role in the lives of my siblings, friends, mentees, church, community and proud parents….and most importantly dreaming to become a great leader in the country someday.

If courage was a drug,I'd love to be an addict

I don’t know whether igneous or metamorphic but honestly this girl Kate rocks! A sight of her so serene that anybody would fall into a trance they wouldn't want to fall out of. These and much more sweet nothings have I been yearning to tell her but courage seem to be too expensive and sophisticated for me to handle. There are more pretty good things I only think of when she’s out of sight, thoughts that I dearly wish they went straight to her as I conceive.

I’m too shy to ask, but then again am too proud to loose. I feel she deserves to be told all the good things only by me. i clearly recall the moment she walked into that class,so steadily, so innocent, but most of all so beautiful. i fancied her tiny nose and little lips. She wore her natural hair so well combed and held together at the back,but a few freely left to fall towards her right forehead partially covering her small beautiful eye. All these accordingly conspired against me to sanction a kill-an emotional kill.

It can never be by mistake that all the glances we concurrently exchange are just accidental. whenever we meet,i tend to wonder what other people usually converse. She leaves me speechless and worse still, feeling stupid and cowardice. It irks me more when someone else does his with ease. I cant no more stomach the way Larry, a fellow admirer approaches her daily with much ease. The scene robs my appetite, let alone the attention she gives him! i guess he owns this secret. He must be so affluent with courage. If courage was a drug, i would love to be an addict.

I vividly remember that day. The day she first talked to me in class. The moment itself was magical, so special and real that felt like a legend. She said she was leaving class early and that i should hand over her assignment. But of course, how on earth could i deny? It was a moment i had been passionately dying for. However, my fantasy in paradise was short lived. Yes i agreed, but immediately got overwhelmed with awe. I had nothing to say next. I became numb and weak. I tried to find the words but they could not come out right. A cold ball of sweat could be heard rolling down my armpits. I felt sorry and only yearned for that one day-the day i would be rich enough to afford courage. If courage was a drug, i would love to be an addict.

I went numb daily thinking of my next move to unleash her my intentions. Goose bumps all over me, sweaty palms, random heartbeats, stomach tremors and weak knees could succinctly describe my situation. But then i had resolved to approach her just as i was and give her hiccups even if no words could come out of me. I was ready to pretend, pretend that i was rich to own enough guts, walk to her and sweep her heart away so good that she would wonder where i had been for all that long.

I made up my mind one evening hoping for the best but expecting the worse. I thought maybe she’ll be the tranquilizer i had been anticipating, but then again maybe a walking civil war waiting to explode all over my face just or being honest. What happened next assured me to curse the day i first saw her-The way she smiled, silly laughs and ecstasy she possessed in the arms of Larry. He held her so close, spoiled her with sweet nothings as they gazed at each other with merry and exuberance. Having seen enough, i was so tormented and infuriated that i almost walked to him,accuse him of meddling and made sure that i distorted his face.

There is a side of her that i yearned to know. I wish i had the chance to know her, to know what really goes on in her mind behind those beautiful eyes. Regretfully, Kate missed the supposed chance to learn of all the good things i had in mind for her all along. It was an opportunity well missed by both of us,but orchestrated by my bloated fears.

For sometime i stood there feeling that i should quit the fight altogether, but an imagination of her in the arms of another drove me nuts and back in the game. But then i couldn't. The child in me kept reminding me that is was all my fault-that i was poor,poor with cowardice. Should i walk away and forget that it all never happened? Or should i go right ahead and confront my fears and face the situation as it is? I stood there still, not knowing what to do next…

Roger Whittaker - My Land Is Kenya

I break down whenever i listen to this amazing stuff. It makes me feel so Kenyan;am proud to be one. I LOVE YOU KENYA