A generation at peril

“You are the hybrids of golden worlds and ages splendidly conceived.” – Abherjani.

Chances are that eighty perent of the people reading this post are Millenials. This is the generation of young people who were born at the dawn of the new Millenium, between the year 1990 and 2000. The oldest of them are graduates , while the youngest are in their second or third year of campus.

Following the Millenials closely are the Post-Millenials, the most recent generation, who were born after 2000. These are the real internet kids, although they have a lot in similar with the Millenials.

These two generations are arguably the most misunderstood phenomena in our society today. They are treated with contempt, and maligned by the older generations. They are known as the Instagram generation, the impatient and get-rich-fast spoiled kids who do nothing but rebel against their superiors. Despite all the positive characteristics of these generations,it is their faults that are glorified.

They are the first generation to grow up in a highly connected world. The world is their village and the internet their playing field. Their teenage experience consisted of texting and Facebooking, and as they joined campus, Instagram came around.

They are well in synch with the rest of the world. A Millenial in a rural village in Kenya is constantly updated of what’s trending in a hamlet in Hemsworth, England or a town in Kansas in the United States. As such, the older generation can hardly put up with them, let alone understand them; therefore they ignore them, or brand them as spoiled.

The fast-paced world that Millenials have grown up in brings with it a hoard of challenges. Research shows that Millenials are the most unhappy generation to ever have lived. Some have described it as the generation that is drowning in a sea of information while thirsting for meaning. They are the most informed generation, yet the most desperately hopeless one.

I interviewed several millenials. Their responses were both insightful and interesting. There is a lot we can glean about this generation from these honest responses. Here you go :

  1. When were you born?

About 80% of the respondents were Millenials. The rest were Post-Millenials.

2. What influences you the Most?

Most millenials are influenced by the Media, and by religion.

Note that parents are no longer a major force of influence upon their Millenial Children.

3. Looking at your life in general, can you say that you are happy?


About 30% of Millenials are either unhappy or do not know what it really means to find happiness in life.

4. How hopeful are you that you will succeed in life?

While a big number are very hopeful that they will succeed, it is worth noting that one out of every ten Millenials are not as sure about it.

5. As a young person, do you feel that older people understand you?

Only 30% of Millenials feel understood by parents and superiors.

What do you think a generation which feels so misunderstood by the people they look up to has to go through?

6. “Aloneness” is the feeling of emptiness and lack of acceptance, even when among people you know. Do you experience aloneness?

Only 20 % of the most connected generation in the history of mankind feels loved, and enjoys a real human connection.

About 25% of them feel lonely often,and as many as 67% of them feel lonely from time to time.

This is despite them interacting with friends online for the better part of their lives.

7. Do you have an interest in the way your country is run politically?

Despite the great political turmoil facing our country and the world at large,about 80% of Millenials do not give a damn about politics, or the people in power.

The Millenial generation is without doubt one of the most twisted, and difficult to understand. Millenials are born to parents who do not understand their modern world, they grow up in a society that sees them as spoiled, and spend their time in the only haven they know of- the internet.

You may choose to ignore them, but you cannot write them off. Their impact on the world is being felt in diverse spheres of business, technology, leadership and art. They are slowly but surely carving a world that they and their children will be proud of.

Are you a Millenial? What do you think about this generation, and what is your personal experience? Leave a comment below.

Dead End or Fresh Start?

“Education is the best weapon that you can use to change the world”, said Mandela, but what if the weapon that you have been handed is blunt and unuseful? In that case the game will never be fair to you.

Last week we saw over ten thousand fresh graduands receive the powers to read from their dons, in campuses the country over. One could not fail to notice the manner in which our social media timelines were decorated by snapshots of smiling faces adorned in academic hats and the long, black academic gowns.

By the way, why did whoever chose the color of graduation gowns, settle on black? Black is for funerals. Oh wait – what if graduation days and funerals have something in common?Mmhh,well, that’s a story for another day.

The fresh graduants, when posting their photos on Facebook, are often seen flashing forced (*ouch!*) smiles, as they break under the heavy hat and sweat in the unventilated gowns. After all, that is what they are supposed to be – happy. Like everyone else, they understand the situation that awaits them after the graduation day. The fate of the Kenyan graduant is an open secret. And they are the partakers of the bitter reality at this moment.

Allow me not dedicate this space on how these deserving students have toiled their way through the grueling system. That we all know. Much congratulations are in order. If you are a fresh graduate and reading this, that right on your back is a pat from me. Have a drink on my bill. You made it. But, let us face the hard reality for a moment.

Several hundred students of civil Engineering graduated from our campuses in this year alone. Those are now professionals who have been certified as fit and ready to take on engineering projects in civil works, projects that will potentially change the landscape of this country. Now, hold that there for a moment.

If you watched closely one of the largest engineering projects in this country since independence,the Phase One of the Standard Gauge Railway, just recently completed, it did not escape your eye that the project was managed, run and controlled by Chinese contractors and engineers from start to finish.

The question that begs our attention is, where were our locally trained engineers in this project? Do we train professionals that we cannot trust to build our highways, railways and bridges? Will China employ our engineers because we give our contracts to theirs?

Take another example, our medical students. Thousands are graduating each year with medical degrees, to join the prestigious medical profession. Yes, the saviours of our lives and holders of the secret magic that heals our pain. The special few who are capable of putting us to a temporary ‘death’, then take out our kidney or heart or liver or brain or whatever other vital organ, treat it, sew us together and bring us back to life. ( yeahh..that was a bit overstretched. I have a thing for doctors.* winks*).

Good. Well done our fresh medics. But, news flash- while your heads were buried in books, your counterparts from Cuba took your jobs.Yes, literally. Cuban doctors were flown into the country, the same way we import maize from Mexico. Therefore, when you go drop those well decorated CVs looking for a job, chances are that you will be disappointed. The government has aborted its own children.

Ladies and gentlemen, these are the realities in every profession. The government that educated you cannot employ you. Teachers, accountants, linguists, scientists- all of us. Your degree does not mean much in this country.

I know what you were told: Go to school, work hard, pass the exam, graduate, get a job, get married, have children and then retire. I am sorry, it just does not work that way.

They told you that your degree is the key to success in life, what they didn’t tell you is that they changed the locks.

Dear fresh graduate, pause and think. Take a week, even a month. Find a quiet place and ponder. Unlearn all that the system has fed you with. Yes, question all they taught you about yourself, about life and career and success. Not all of it was true, actually most of it was crap.

Ever wondered why you were taught taxation math in High School? They were preparing you to have your salary taken back to the government in form of taxes. All along, you have been taught how to be a servant and a follower. No one showed you how to think for yourself; to look long and hard at the facts and make up your mind independent of any previous status quo. The system wanted you to become a robot- controlled by the thinking of other people.And that’s where they got you.

As you ponder, begin to reinvent yourself. Thats the only way you are going to leave a mark, and stamp your legacy on the world.

Read books. Read insatiably and exhaustively. How many times have you picked a book and read it cover to cover, not because you are revising for an examination or because your lecturer suggested that you read it, but because you want to widen your intellectual horizons?

Great leaders are great readers. Read about politcs, business, economics, literature, religion, history, science and technology, and whatever else you lay your hands on. Because information is power.

Ever heard of the saying that, people with big televisions sit infront of them to watch people with big libraries?

There you have it, fresh graduate. You have been given the powers to read. Now, go ye and change the world… Because you can.

Eden

It was the last week of July. The cold season was almost over, and the daytime temperatures were beginning to rise in Nairobi. The city was still alive with its hustle and bustle, and it being the start of the world-famed wildebeest migration in the Maasai Mara, the number of white visitors in the country was noticeably high. Travel companies were having a boom as they took the grandchildren of former colonial masters to enjoy what mother Africa had to offer.

On this particular Friday evening, Alex left the office at Britam towers where he worked as  a senior software developer at 5 p.m . Riding in his blue Subaru across the avenues and streets of Nairobi, he let the timeless classical tunes of 1960’s America soothe the interior of the car. Alex was living his dream. Having graduated from campus two years earlier with a degree in Computer Science, he had secured a job as a junior software developer at Centum Group and began working on his masters in Software Engineering. He now owned a nice apartment house in Runda, a decent six-figure salary and a farm in Naivasha. He was still a  bachelor.

He had planned to spent the Saturday checking on his farm in Naivasha. As a result of being brought up in the village, Alex loved nature, and most of his weekends were spent in the countryside, especially at his farm. There he grew maize, melons, oranges, and vegetables. He however did it for the passion and not for the money; for most of the produce he brought to his friends in Nairobi and the rest to his parents in Makueni.

He decided  to call Mercy, his friend, to ask if she would be free the next day, so she would give him company on the trip. “Definitely. Would love to”, was  her reply. Alex knew she was excited deep inside but she didn’t want to show it.

Mary was a barrister at the Supreme court of Kenya. An extremely smart lawyer herself, she was the true definition of female accomplishment. On top of that she was beautiful; not the Miss world kind of beautiful, but very beautiful nevertheless. She and Alex were very close friends; actually most of their friends thought they were dating-which Alex wished was true. He had always had a silent crush on the lawyer.

Saturday

At 9 am, the 2013 Isuzu double-cabin four-wheel drive was cruising down Naivasha road like a machine straight out of Mad Max. Inside, Alex and Mercy talked and laughed as their voices were drowned by the 90’s music blaring from the speakers. The Saturday morning was beautiful and the weather was benign.  They were an hour’s drive from the farm.

Arriving, Alex took her round the farm and he could tell that she was impressed. The farm was well kept, the crops were doing well, even better than previous seasons. A crystal clear stream slithered across the property, bringing life and coolness to the farm. It was like Eden, and Alex swelled with admiration as he let Mercy savor of its grandeur and splendor.

On the East side of the farm stood a large rock that was semi-hidden by bush. It was cool as the breeze from the hills nearby flowed down there. Alex sat there next to Mercy and they began talking. They chatted about life, career, family, disappointments, and victories.  They shared about everything and the words flowed effortlessly between them. They rocked from hearty chuckle to loud laughter to suppressed tears. The time flew without any of them noticing and soon it was dusk.

Alex turned around and looked her straight in the eye. For a split second. Then he drew closer and kissed her. Their first kiss. Their first magical moment in this magical Eden. She looked startled for a moment, then kissed him back.  A passionate kiss.

It all happened on impulse and Alex was not sure what to say. He felt guilty for ambushing her in that way. After all they were simply friends. “Ahh..ughh…” He tried to form some words of apology. She looked at him.

I am sorry if that…if that was not right with you…I just thought..” he muttered.

“Shhh” She signaled him to shut up.

Then kissed him again.

So what were you saying?” She asked, teasing him. He was not dumb.

That I love you. I love you very much”.

She leaned closer and lay her head on his arms.

 

 

K.C.P.E Results Fever

Our country survives on stories. We rely on them to keep us laughing at our own insecurities and incapabilities.

Recently it was Jowie and Jackie Maribe. Before that Governor Obado and Sharon story.There will be many more to come; the sweet and sour and absurd. They are part of what makes us Kenyan.

There are incidents however that make headlines twice every year, and are a source of both celebration and tears across the country: the National examination results.

The Kenya Certificate of Primary Education results were rolled out yesterday-not so impromptly as the KNEC officials expected, following President Uhuru’s ‘slip of the tongue’ the previous day, alluding to the possible release of the results.

That notwithstanding, we expected the results would be released this month, barely a month and half after the exams. This is thanks to former Education CS Fred Matiang’i’s policies that helped to reduce exam cheating and collusion and streamline the process of examination marking and grading.

You will understand the fever, excitement and pressure that comes with examinations in Kenya if you have gone through the system or have a close friend who has. The narrative has it that you will be as successful in life as your exam results dictate. And therefore most times the end is made to justify the means: a student must pass his/her exams irregardless of the strategy used, be it honestly or dishonestly.

This has made education a lucrative business in Kenya. Afterall, there is a  steady demand for quality grades, the customer base is really good and willing to pay and the supply by public schools is as low as it can be. Hence, private schools have sprung up in every nook and cranny of every estate, village, town and city, each with a better name than the other one: ‘Little Angels Academy’ or ‘Bright Future Group of Schools’ or ‘Highridge International Academy’ (the ‘International’ tag is a major trend nowadays).

These academies boast of state-of-the-art architecture and provide a comfortable life for their students. They have becoming baking ovens for grades, where ‘A’ grades are produced magically by the pronunciation of ‘Abracadabra’; and just like that, every candidate goes home with a heavily decorated transcript to the joy  of a concerned parent.

I am not one to give rumors and therefore here is  a sample to prove my point. This is a copy of results from one of the private schools in our country, I have withheld the name of the school and those of the innocent students:

See? Not in a thousand worlds can one convince me that this is an accurate picture of the academic abilities of the students in that class. Never.

For starters, primary schools do not admit students based on merit; therefore each class is bound to have students of ranging abilities. Yet you are telling me that in this particular school, the teachers and students were so good and so prepared that in Math, English and Kiswahili, every student, notwithstanding their abilities,  scored a perfect grade (A), with over 95% of them scoring a  perfect mark in those subjects? I am  not saying that someone lied to these unsuspecting students, but I am reminded of Ed Sheeran’s song  ‘but what do I know?

We could change this whole world with a piano
Add a bass, some guitar, grab a beat and away we go
I’m just a boy with a one-man show
No university, no degree, but lord knows
Everybody’s talking ’bout exponential growth
And the stock market crashing in their portfolios
While I’ll be sitting here with a song that I wrote
Sing, love could change the world in a moment
But what do I know?

 

Meanwhile, before I am branded a pessimist,  kudos to our top students. You did well. However, remember that being top in the exam does not qualify as a premise that you will be top in life. You will have to work your backs out and compete in a ruthlessly selfish world to make it to the top.

For those who did not meet theirs and their parents’  expectations, do not give up. The world is bigger than that and your life does not end there. In the beautiful words of Langstone Hughes:

Hold fast to dreams

For if dreams die

Life is a broken-winged bird

That cannot fly.

 

Hold fast to dreams

For when dreams go

Life is a barren field

Frozen with snow

 

Hold fast to your dreams.

If you liked this story,Leave behind a comment. Will you?Thanks.

 

Some moments..

She watched the Frisbee arch a smooth curve as it rocketed towards her opponent’s side. Her heart beat hard and fast as she lifted her racket to meet it, but a split-second delay made her miss it and the Frisbee went falling on the ground. Linda jumped in the air almost impulsively and her fans with her. She had been behind by a point, and the score had just put her in the lead. She did her usual celebratory kiss on the palm and blew it to her fans.

This game was especially important to her because winning it would earn her full scholarship to the Imperial College of Beauty Therapy-finally fulfilling her dream. Even more importantly, her family was here and she did not want to let them down. They had invested so much in her and believed in her too much to let them down. Those were the normal motivations for winning this game. However, deep inside her, she knew all so well that she was doing it for her high school crush-the athletic captain of the football team, Petro Lee. She always saw him in her dreams, at their wedding making vows or in their home popping babies and growing old together.

Sarah, that’s her name, pulled herself together and focused on the game. She was just a point ahead with three minutes to go. Linda, her opponent, looked bent on beating her; she wanted to win as much as Sarah did. Theirs had always been a competitive friendship. They shared everything, except the sides of the net. When it came to the pitch, they always were on opposite sides. Linda was a natural talent, born to swing the racket; while Sarah had gotten this far only by sheer hard work and determination. Either way, everyone believed she was better than the other. Today that theory would be put to the test.

The Frisbee rose high in the air under the force of Linda’s strong arms, then began a steep descend towards Sarah’s side. Her eyes were trained on it like a hawk’s, and at the same time her right hand tightened on the racket. There was no room for error. Millisecond later, the racket and Frisbee met mid-air, and she send it spiraling back to Linda’s side. She sighed with relief, but not for long enough; for Linda gave it a similar treat and back it rocketed to her side. It was all happening so fast. But, that was the game-speed and accuracy. Sarah remembered that she was doing this for Petro. Then she looked at him.

Standing in the crowd, his face happy and sweet, cheering his lungs out, their eyes met. Then they locked for several seconds. He seemed to be telling her something, but she couldn’t make out what it was. For those brief second, she forgot about the Frisbee and the racket and her opponent Linda. Then something hit her on the face. She looked, and it was the Frisbee, rolling on the ground at her feet then coming to a rest. The referee then blew the whistle. The game was over. And she had lost it. Maybe she had lost Petro too-lost him while staring straight at him.

She was too embarrassed to look at her fans. “What have I done?” She muttered to herself.

“You just won me!”

It was Petro. He had somehow found his way into the pitch, and before she could say anything, he took her into his arms and embraced her. The crowd cheered wildly. Maybe she had won them too.

Days like this

He woke up feeling tired and it was like a pound of lead hung from every limb in his body. He was trying, but the duvet wouldn’t let him get off the bed; It was warm and inviting. He had his finals game later in the day and he wanted to win it more than he had ever wanted anything else. Racket had always been a hobby for him, a game he played because he could easily beat his peers. That had changed when the games teacher announced of the National competitions in which the winner would walk away with a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. He wanted the money. He had always wanted the money. And he would make sure that he won this one.

Sam was a good boy since Kindergarten. His parents were proud of the innocent, sweet bunch he was-always ready to help and often taking up tasks that had not even been assigned to him. At school teachers encouraged other kids to emulate his sense of responsibility, respect and hard work. He sailed through grade school almost effortlessly, always topping his class and getting numerous accolades from his teachers. He loved to play rackets but he never did it competitively. However, none of those who won the County games were better racketeers than him.

High school was equally adventurous for teenage Sam. He managed to stay away from negative peer pressure, always being a role model for many. Despite for a short glitch in his third form of High School when he got involved in a group of rowdy boys for a term, following which his grades took a nosedive and the senior master consequently reprimanded and counselled him, he remained to be a good performer, first blowing school records in the county mock exams and then shortly after setting Divisional records in his final exams. His parents were ashine with pride for their son and could not help to show him off to other parents.

Today was the day of the competition. Three years into college, a lot had changed. It is like all the adolescence fever he had run away from while in High School had suddenly come flooding over him. But he was holding up. Year after year of college he strived not to lose his morale; his grades were bordering on the fail. However, he knew that this game was his one chance to do something real in his life. All other dreams he had while in High school had magically dwindled. But he was not worried. Once he won the game, it would not matter anymore. He would be able to make a great life of himself. And hopefully become a professional player.

Getting out of bed, he saw the packet of pills on the table next to the wall. Nice, round pills that always send good feelings through his brain. He knew that if he took them now, then he would either have to miss the game, or play it and risk losing terribly. His conscience was still asleep, though. He felt nothing, feared nothing, cared for nothing; not even his future. He reached for the tablets.

It was written, “Maximum dosage: 2 pills in 36 hours”. He was too sleepy to see, or remember, that warning. He emptied six pills in his hand, and washed them down with a glass of juice from yester night. Nonchalantly, he began to pace for the bathroom. As he stood there letting out water, he began to lose his balance, and his mind began to blur. Before he could figure it out; he blanked out and fell to the bathroom floor.

He woke up three days later in a hospital bed, surrounded by tubes, drips and his parents. They were watching as their son fought for his life. Sam’s mom couldn’t understand how this had happened to his lovely son. His dad seemed dull and sad.

Sam knew that it was all lost-the game, the fun, the pills, the money and the future. He heaved and went back to sleep.

 

Paradox

Complex and complicated;

Or maybe we have made ourselves so.

We want everything,

Or maybe we just want to be happy.

We do what we feel like-

And maybe we are right,

Or maybe we are wrong.

 

“You are what you feed yourself”-

Man is a product of

Information, thought and experience.

So we aren’t just born;

We make ourselves, we fashion our lives,

By choices and decisions.

Do not complain if it seems all bad,

Because you made it yourself.

 

Young, naïve and unwise.

Mistakes are what we do all day,

Always hoping to learn new lessons.

Our souls pure and true,

Yet our hearts ablaze.

Trying to live like they said,

But living like we want.

It must be madness-

Or we may just be normal.

 

This world,

A steaming saucer of activity.

Everyone busy; some happy, some sad.

But whatever you do,

Do it, not just for today

But for tomorrow too.

The world owes you nothing.

But the poet told you something.

 

Social Media

We millennial kids have a big challenge. And that is the problem of social media.

Probably, you are now thinking to yourself, why is this guy referring to social media as a challenge? and thinking that I maybe from the dark ages. Just read on.

Instagram, twitter, Facebook, snapchat, WhatsApp, name them; they are enemies disguised as friends, and we young people have only fallen so in love with them.

Don’t get me wrong. I like social media. I think it is a good tool,for, as Mark Zuckerberg puts it, connecting people and bringing the world closer together. Only that as we connect with others, we sometimes disconnect with our inner selves.

A celebrity posts a photo on Instagram or Facebook. It’s not just an ordinary photo, but a perfect shot, one showing their expensive lifestyle,the kind that ordinary folk only dream of, with a classy ride in the background and adorned with costly jewelry and designer attire.

The photo depicts to us a perfect, pre-planned moment of that person’s life. It does not tell us the story behind the photo, or the journey that the person had to make to achieve that success, if at all its genuine success.

But, our minds don’t see that. We see someone who is living the life of their dreams, the life we can only imagine of. And then our nature as human beings makes us feel inadequate and unsatisfied with what we already have in our lives. This feeling slowly but surely sinks us into stress and possibly depression; we become unhappy and discontented. And it all began with a photo that we saw on social media.

Or that time when you are going through WhatsApp statuses. Your friend has posted a dozen pics of how s(he) had an amazing day with the buddies. But for you, your weekend was spent tucked in the sheets rewatching a season of the good doctor. You try and type a reply to them, “you must have had a lot of fun!”- simply because you are supposed to be happy for your friends; but deep down you are human, therefore you begin questioning why your life is so messed up-when you actually have a good life but are actually comparing yourself to others.

Social media is addictive. Addictive as in alcohol or morphine kind of addiction. Science has proved that the hormone, called dopamine, that is released in the brain when someone takes a drug, is the same that is released when we use social media; when our photo gets a like, when someone double-taps on your WCW post or when a crush posts on your timeline for your birthday, saying how amazing a friend you are (boom –friend zoned). More likes mean more dopamine, and we feel good. Next time, a cleaner photo, expect more likes, get even more than you expected, brain is happy, more dopamine. Feels good. Post another photo. No likes. Brain is sad. We enter into stress.

So, what do we do?

One thing for sure is that social media is here to stay. And it has its benefits, too. You probably wouldn’t be reading this story if someone had not shared it via WhatsApp or Facebook. Most businesses are thriving today thanks to social media advertising.

There is even a new career description today: “social media personality/influencer”-which is basically jargon for a girl with the best assets or gent with cleanest sideburns, who have a good camera and enough time and confidence to smile before it and some money to buy data bundles and post on Instagram. Do this repeatedly and gain a swarm of followers, then you are in the game and money begins to flow in. Okay that was a bit overstretched. I Also don’t have anything against gents with side burns; I love my baby cheeks just as much(really?).

My take is-let’s use social media minimally. If we spent too much time on it we abuse it, and our minds too. I addition, if we have to post something, let’s first pause and consider, so that we post content that will impact our friends/ followers in a positive way.

Meanwhile, find me on Facebook: Victor K Makau, Instagram: Victor Makau, Twitter: @Victormakau97, LinkedIn: Victor Makau.);

Just Do It!

There are those moments in life, we all experience them. The Biblical likeness of “the mind is willing but the body is weak”. You know so well that you should do something, you really intend to do it, but your body has just “refused” to let you do it. You feel like a car with a dead engine that has failed to start.

I have learnt a way to survive in such situations. I am going to share it but, spoiler alert: It is not one of those out-of-the-closet methods from motivational books, but it works anyway. The rule is: just wake up and do it! That’s it. Stop waiting for motivation, or for the ‘feeling’. It may come, but it may be too late. An important opportunity may have passed you.

So you have been having that brilliant business idea but you keep on postponing it, well, now you know, just begin executing it. Or there is assignment that you have been intending to do over the weekend, and now Sunday is almost over-get up and freaking do it! Maybe there is a girl that you saw and you have been intending to ask her out, don’t wait, just go ahead and do it.

Procrastination is a product of fear and breeds fear. Do not allow it to steal your time and consequently your joy. Make the habit of taking action as early as possible.

Whether its waking up in the morning, picking that book and reading it or gathering the courage to attend that interview, approaching your boss for a pay rise-just do it. There is no magical moment that will come to help you.

And again, it is the small steps of progress we make each day that eventually add up to our achievement

So-just do it anyway!

Food For The Mind

A book is the mind of great men made indelible throughout the ages.

It is a rare opportunity to glimpse into the minds of geniuses, some who lived centuries ago, to savor their daring ideas and know how they achieved great feats with little resources.

They tell us that the human experience has been around for a long time, and that our short lives are just but an epoch of the long human history, and the future to come. They inspire us, inform us, elevate us and humble us too.

A man who does not dive into it loses one of the most intriguing, fulfilling experiences that a man can have. While it is not the most natural thing to do, it is worth creating the habit for. Our minds will always want us to watch that movie or tv show.

To read effectively, you should enjoy it. Find those topics which interest you and get some good books on them. You can decide to start with easier reads, or dive straight into the classics.

Those minutes and hours spent reading are awesome. You get entertained, your mind is sharpened, your memory and vocabulary are refined and you become a better writer.

Reading will make us discover our full potential. Read with a purpose and a goal. Want to start a business? Read books on investing. You are an innovator? Find good books and read them. No one who courts books passionately will fail to leave a legacy behind. Above all, read for your dignity. A man who disregards knowledge abuses his humanity.

You will be surprised how much insight you gain from books. You begin questioning things and in so doing free yourself from ideas that held you back. But remember not to get obnoxious with the knowledge you acquire. If you have to share it, do so cautiously, humbly and with people who will appreciate it.

So what book are you reading? Leave a comment.

Some of my favorites:

The Other Side of Midnight” by Sidney Sheldon

Nothing Lasts Forever” also by Sidney Sheldon

“Cosmos” by Carl Sagan

Edit:

I found that Steve Biko had written a similar story on his blog. I liked the image he used,so I will put it up here. You can read Biko’s  story here.

Happy reading!