Celebrating 16 Years - Brian Jenkins' commemorative blog

Introduction

Two weeks ago, in one of our conversations, I told my dearest Brian that the 16^th anniversary of my blog is coming up and I would like him to write something for me to publish on my blog to celebrate the day.

Reticent and shy, sometimes unsure of his articulacy, he hesitated but in passing kept to mind the anniversary and self-deprecatingly suggested he couldn’t do much worth publishing.

However, well ahead of schedule, I received an email written to celebrate the day, in which he expressly said was not for publication, but as you read his piece, you will notice it was written in the context of something to be published. His honest flowing prose with innocent flair shines through.

I had to go back to Brian to ask if I could publish this as it was just too good to be kept between us. On the advice of another friend, she suggested it be given the pride of place as the sole blog of commemoration.

It does me the great pleasure to have my partner, my boyfriend, and my love to do the honour of this anniversary blog below. Thank you, Brian, love you so dearly.

Making A Connection

Every day we meet different people in different situations and places, but there are some people we meet who are just exceptional and make a deep impression on our lives. It has been said before that when we meet someone for the first time it is only within a few seconds that we would have already decided on whether we will like that person or not.

Meeting Akin for the first time is a story I could describe in so many delightful ways, it was like something scripted for a movie scene, but that is a story for another day.

I couldn’t believe this man was talking with me. I was so fascinated by all he had to say, instantly I was captivated. All the noise and distractions in the background of that night couldn’t distract my focus and attention on him but as the night came to its end and we exchanged contact details and I remember thinking at that moment we would just become emailing friends and eventually forget each other.

We made plans to meet up for lunch the following day, being the gentleman that he is he honoured his word, we met for lunch but my departure back to Zimbabwe was scheduled for later that evening, I couldn’t get it out my head that I might never get to see this man again.

Spending that afternoon together I clearly remember just listening to him speak to me, it felt so spellbinding, I had never met a real person like this who can motivate, inspire and encourage another soul like this man before my eyes, a man who can make you realise things from a different perspective is an exceptional man. When the hours grew into days and we had gone our separate ways, still, it became undeniably clear that our connection had to be of pure divine intervention.

Discovering the Person

We kept constant communication via various channels, video calling became a new thing for me. Talking for hours on end and in talking with Akin, for those who know him, will know that Akin is a man of great depth, one of the very few good ones remaining, and I am blessed to know him.

With a great interest in getting to know more about Akin’s life story by just listening to him speak or by simply reading all about him through his blogs. It does not take long to appreciate that his story is the stuff bestsellers are made of, surviving cancer - the challenges and the triumphs, his views about life, in general, are so very insightful, which only leaves one even more inspired to want to become a better person.

It may only be a short time that I have come to know Akin, discovering his blogs, I look forward to reading what is on his mind his topics are always interesting and he presents it with such panache, one can only become habituated.

Over the past sixteen years, Akin had documented his life’s journey and experiences with great eloquence, and it is admirable, to say the least. I am positively sure even far before this electronic recording Akin has much more recorded resources out there that can be found that will be of even more great interest to share of his life, his thoughts, and experiences.

The more I read Akin’s blogs, the more I get to realise the man that he is, smart, caring, selfless, intelligent and knowing just how to use the wisdom he has received, also he has a great ability to impart that wisdom to others around him and that is purely astounding.

The strength of a man is in his heart, and his courage is gained by his confidence.

Discovering Akin’s blogs ignited a fresh renewal on my perspectives. I can only wish for you Akin, much more blessings and success as you continue to impart to those around you and to those who come to know you, the wisdom and knowledge you have and continue to inspire in us and give a positive outlook of life events and everything surrounding us.

I for one, I have truly been blessed, inspired, motivated and encouraged by you, and wish those who know you, and those who will come to know you get to learn much more from the experiences you share. You have a gift and it is worth sharing.

May you continue to receive more blessings, more wisdom and knowledge and may you never tire to share and enlighten those around you. I look forward to one day reading the book that you will one day publish.

Resist Frenzied Action on Behalf of Homeless Cats

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What becomes of the broken pencil?

For the umpteenth time, I write again about my urgings about my blog, lamenting that the dearth of content is not the paucity of inspiration, topic or situation to express in my unique form of expression.

My stories living in my mind churning over like a perpetual spin cycle of washing machine that would never end, you suddenly feel you are on some merry-go-round off which you will dare not jump off lest you main yourself.

Such is my dilemma, episodes and observations that stir me to the point of consideration without consummation, my good intentions remaining just that; unfinished blogs like germinating seeds never getting out of the nursery to the garden, stunted in growth, yet never dying completely that they are discarded; premature blogs like me, arriving long before one would consider them ready, if ever; self-flagellation at the lack of discipline to write even as if it were my last act.

For someone who penned 400 blogs in 2007, I have only breached 100 in the last 5 years. I do wonder, what has become of my verbosity. And, as I have said before, it is not for the lack of what to write.

Now that we’ve found love

Maybe, just maybe, there is something else at play, it is yet to be determined. I am somewhat preoccupied though, work on one end, self-development in a rapidly changing world that it is not getting easier to keep up and most of all, as 2018 drew to a close, I met someone and fell in love.

That, in itself, should have been a source of inspiration, and indeed, I have found things from deep in the heart to write about this madness of emotion called love and I am loving every bit of that experience. I reflect on the reality of living in grief for almost a decade unable to find the measure of anyone who did not measure up to that which was lost, until out of the blue someone put to rest the ghosts of yesteryears and brought a new reality of what life could be.

If anything, I am grateful for that which I have found and intent to make the best of it. Long-distance relationships are not easy to cultivate and maintain, we devote the most of what we can cherish every moment and yearn earnestly for the next time we will be together again. That, we know now is soon.

Resisting the frenzy

The year at work has not been as engaging as one would have loved it to be, my retainership was unable to find productive engagement for about 70 working days. I probably should have moved on when the empty promises suggested plenty was coming my way. We bring that chapter to a close.

I was unable to write a fitting tribute to the passing of my uncle in the middle of the year because the final years were a harbinger of much hurt. Then if I were to write an enduring note of remembrance and affection it would be of one of the most humble and self-effacing Muslims, I have ever encountered bar my paternal grandfather. May his soul rest in peace.

The year itself started with some irritation towards the patriarch whose sudden extraneous demands left me both flustered and annoyed. This is all in preparation for his 80^th birthday, which with the resourceful and energetic resolve of all my siblings, we pulled off successfully and brilliantly. It left the patriarch a prayerfully, grateful and happy man, may the Lord grant him strength, health, and happiness to enjoy many more years.

Our matriarch, God bless her, I even offered to help her swear an affidavit to celebrate her 80^th birthday this year. She hasn’t lost her penchant to bring us close to exasperation, harmless and loving, she is a wonderful mother and we get one well.

In all, we do wish we never had a care in this world, the challenges abound as we triumph from within and with many, we find the supply to meet every situation. By that, we are employed to resist frenzied action on behalf of homeless cats. The cats we know have homes. So there, no need to worry about a thing.

Courtesy of the William Kentridge exhibition at Zeitz MOCAA, Cape Town.

On becoming a certified PRINCE2® Practitioner

The tough thing

This morning at 7:40 AM, I clicked the ‘End Test’ button of my PRINCE2 Practitioner 2017 test, responded to a survey about my experience and waited for a few seconds for the test result to show.

It was a somewhat tough test, but I did not think I needed anymore study after all the work I had put in towards passing this test. However, I believe by process and application, I should be able to put my knowledge to good use and by that become an effective project manager.

My projected life

My working life has generally been impacted to various extents by project managers, ones who follow process and procedure and some that care nothing for the orthodoxy, they blag their way with offering the customer the impossible, harass their technical personnel to produce gold from dross and their ultimate goal is rarely to deliver a product or service but to tick boxes.

To say I have little time for such project managers would be an understatement. Whilst, I have not come to blows with any, I have found the unspeakable to say straight to their faces. I know the quality of work I want to deliver, and it would not be shoddy no matter who the project manager is. If you cannot first understand what it takes to deliver before you promise what can be delivered, then you will have to take up the consequences for why tolerances have been stretched and exceeded.

Schooled in hard knocks

My first encounter with formal project management processes was during my postgraduate course some 15 years ago, I took it as my second module, and it was an exercise in stress management and control towards delivery.

We were a team of 5 who had to take up the slack for one of us who was never present, never engaging and never delivering. Yet, he had the effrontery to demand that we make all allowances which could have left us all failing the module. The lecturer decided not to mediate but watch how we handled the tough issues.

We delivered our goals despite the issues, but the biggest lesson I took away from that experience was that I did not want to be a project manager. Our project management module was based on the Project Management Institute (PMI) Project Management Body of Knowledge (PMBOK® Guide).

Not wasting time

Then, just 3 weeks ago, I was notified that I would be furloughed, on knowing this, I decided I would spend the time attending some courses. There is probably a lot I can do on the technical side, but I also need to leverage elements of 30 years of expertise in the coordination of projects, programmes and portfolios.

After taking some advice from a colleague project manager, I looked around for PRINCE2 classroom course and ended up with one provided by The Knowledge Academy. My enquiry led to being offered a deal that allowed the back-to-back courses for PRINCE2 Foundation and Practitioner combined in the first week and the TOGAF 9.2 Part 1 & Part II in the following week.

Getting ready for love

Apart from the preparation for the course, I had access through my PluralSight subscription to the retired PRINCE2 2017 course which I could run and learn from, then I also found the Projex Academy Prince2 Masterclass at cost, which had a rather innovative approach to covering the PRINCE2 syllabus.

The Projex Academy YouTube video PRINCE2 2018 MASTERCLASS Foundation Exam Tips and Hints, gave me the confidence to decide I had done enough to go for the test.

I had passed the paper test for PRINCE2 Foundation at the end of the second day of the course and then had to wait for the exam voucher from my course provider to schedule the PRINCE2 Practitioner test.

What a bother

This was fraught with a few difficulties as it is proctored online giving you the opportunity to run the test from home. However, to have a sterile enough environment to sit for a test for 150 minutes without being disturbed whilst keeping the setting clean enough not to contaminate the examination setting with material that could compromise the integrity of the test looked like an insurmountable problem.

I also could not find test centres to fulfil that need apart from opting for a paper-based test. I needed to find a hot desk office or boardroom. However, to schedule an online proctored test, one needs to find a slot that makes a proctor available for that slot. My solution after much uncertainty was to schedule the slot first, which I got for 5:20 AM, then I booked myself into a hotel. I ensured the room had a table and chair, an executive room or apartment hotel would do the job.

Testing hotel

This meant I would have no distractions and I did not have to do a spring clean of the room to have the setting that meets the requirements for online proctoring. Next, I downloaded the Exam simulator and ensured the setup with fully compatible, my laptop required .NET 3.5 and a Visual C++ distributable for the exam simulation to install. Then a number of tests for the audio, web camera and Internet connection were run. A wired connection is preferred but not compulsory.

Once that was done, I was ready for the test and I went to be bed early, my dreams overrun with PRINCE2 project scenarios. I did no additional revision, but I did tab my official manual, the Principles, Themes, Processes, Appendix A and C along with a few other pages. As the PRINCE2 Practitioner test is an open book exam, but that is as deceptive as it comes. You could easily run out of time rifling through pages looking for the piece of information that helps you answer the question.

The die is cast

When all was set with the capture of my identity document, the online proctor communicated with me by audio, he did not once show his face, but he could see me throughout the duration of the test. I turned my laptop around 360 degrees to show the room, then the table I was working on. Flipped through the official manual showed the blank sheets I would be working on and after typing in my middle name in the chatbox, I put my phone out of reach and started the test.

I wasted a lot of time on the first 10 questions out of 46 but eventually got a good pace, skipping one question until I had finished. By the time I was done, I had about 13 minutes to spare. I did not believe there was much else to review. I ended the test and my result came back as a pass.

Phew!

When I was scheduling my test, I was offered the option to resit the test for 25% of the normal cost for a resit, the offer was valid until 15 minutes before the test. It is not refundable but serves as an insurance policy. I took it, but I will not cry over the loss of it rather than getting to use it to pass if I had failed. It would have knocked my confidence a great deal if I had failed the test, but I was not going to beat myself up for it. I have failed many times before and returned to take the prize.

However, for all the activity that presaged this situation, I am happy that my PRINCE2 Practitioner certification is in the bag. Now on to new things. The support of my partner Brian and best friends Funmi and Kola have been so invaluable, I am blessed to have these wonderful people cheering me on, through the good and the bad. Thank you. Meanwhile, I lament the inglorious step down from queen to prince.

I need no apology

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Quite for long, I need no apology,
For how you think things ought to be,
I am striving, giving you the best that I got,
For who we are is what we have brought,
To this sunny picnic amongst the flowers.

When this trip and adventure did start
Neither you nor I knew but only the heart,
We followed through for all we dared,
From that has come the moments shared,
On this sunny picnic with butterflies.

You and I have met our vulnerable,
For which there could be regret available,
I am energised with the sure and bold,
Not in the many sorry words that leave me cold,
At this sunny picnic let’s be quiet.

The love I see leaves me with smiles so wide,
In you, I have more than just a pride,
That ahead a future can be glowing bright,
We only need to get things right,
From this sunny picnic we skip back home.

Your turn is not next

Courtesy of the William Kentridge exhibition at Zeitz MOCAA, Cape Town.

Shrinking Violet

In a way, I have cast myself a glutton for punishment by scheduling two theory intensive courses back-to-back in a fortnight.

The attendees to the first and second course are drawn from different industries, all of them can be interesting if I am able to engage them. Whilst I do not intend to be aloof, I am not predisposed to networking as some people would think I am.

I can quite easily strike up a conversation and rapport with strangers, yet, it is a somewhat different dynamic from being in a course or some other social setting. The intricacies of this situation, I am yet to fully understand.

Introvert at large

For instance, I find it emotionally draining to mingle at parties. You will usually find me in a corner somewhere and if I am engaged in conversation, it would be initiated by someone who has come to have that chat to me. At one birthday in my honour, I had gone to bed long before the guests had left.

At these courses, everyone seems to be engaged in conversation, whilst I appear withdrawn. Like someone has said to me, “Your turn is not next.” I doubt I am ever the next in turn to say anything at that point in time. It is not for the want of something to say, I do not think I am naturally tongue-tied. However, in a less crowded place, I am probably more amiable.

Maybe it is just as case of not liking crowded places, I know there are people who would never consider me shy. That is a misconception, I am naturally shy and withdrawn with the tendency to appear quite extroverted when I find someone with whom we can discuss things of interest.

Each to their own

Then, I might become a chatterbox of raconteuring excess. I hope I don’t bore my audience. I won’t call myself a public speaker either, though I have had to give speeches at some gatherings. It is not something that causes great excitement, it exacerbates much anxiety.

Then, there probably isn’t anything wrong with this sort of temperament, we can’t all be outgoing, affable, engaging and the life and soul of the party. We are cut out for different things; it does not make us voiceless when it matters. Even for the seemingly socially awkward.

15 Seconds on the Soft Shoulder

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I’ll cry if I want to

Every once in a while I give my eyes the routine maintenance of giving the tear ducts a flush. There is no switch to set off the channels that bring water to my eyes.

By a deliberate act, I might chop onions and that is hardly a task I enjoy, for years, I used a mandolin and then I found Spar does diced onions, I guess the efficient rather the lazy part of me decided I had hit the gold dust of cooking ingredients. Most of the time, the onions go into the cooking pot rather than the frying pan, I store the diced onions in the freezer and when needed, crack the bag on a shelf and pour in what I need.

Sowing kindness

I started the evening with a Facebook post that talked of a hungry boy who asked for a glass of water and was given a glass of milk. He had only a dime and asked what he could pay for the glass of milk, the lady answered that her mother told never to take money for an act of kindness. The boy thankfully blessed her from his heart.

Decades down the line, the lady fell seriously ill and was transferred to a city hospital where a consultant was engaged to monitor and treat her condition. He saw where she came from and on checking on her, realised she was the lady who gave him a glass of milk, many years before. He dedicated himself to her wellbeing and care until she was well. Her hospital bill came to over $28,000 which she did not have.

The consultant had intercepted the bill and added a note before having the bill presented to the lady. She read the bill and then the note, all it said was, “Paid for with a glass of milk.” The tears welled up in my eyes, how kindness gets repaid, you can never know.

Stories that move the heart

The annual charade of the BBC Children In Need is on again, this charity has raised over £1 billion pounds since 1980 for disadvantaged children and young people in the UK. Gosh! I miss Sir Terry Wogan, but I switched to the channel and it was being presented tonight by Ade Adepitan and Tess Daly.

There are so many stories of kindness, hope over adversity and the overcoming of infirmity, human strength and resilience coming from young kids who have faced cancer, life-changing injuries and all sorts of crises, yet, none have a sense defeat but are living examples of grace, love and fortitude.

Each story told is a miracle of our humanity, those who suffer and those who succour bound together in the refrain of that song, “He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother.”

I have been blessed by kindness

In my life, I remember the many who have come into my life in times of need, of great adversity and difficulty, friends and strangers alike who found the common cause of human kindness and unconditional love whose acts towards me have been to carry me, unconcerned about the burden, to the questions that might have crossed their minds, they have answered back, “He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother.”

What a blessing it has been for me to have means and opportunity, not necessarily to repay the kindness directly, but to others. To each and many, I hope I never have to faint, but be girded with much more strength to say, “They ain’t heavy, they’re my brothers, my sisters, my fathers, my mothers, my aunts, my uncles, my nephews, my nieces, my relations, my friends, my neighbours, my community, my people, my humanity and whatever diversity and inclusivity I am blessed to be part of.”

My tears on the soft shoulder of love

I have shed many a tear watching acts of kindness, things that bring happiness and joy to others, to ease the pain, pacify the perturbed, demonstrate the amazing and incredible, the whole celebration of humankind. For the kindnesses I have received too, my tear ducts have opened like sluice gates and I am not afraid to cry, it can be a wonderful release and expression of our humanity.

Maybe I have found 15 seconds on the soft shoulder, I know one shoulder on which I could cry for as long as I want, he is the one I love, and we hope to soon be together again.

Courtesy of the William Kentridge exhibition at Zeitz MOCAA, Cape Town.

The Coincidence Demands Its Hearing

Courtesy of the William Kentridge exhibition at Zeitz MOCAA, Cape Town.

Moments

Quite unusually for me, my one-month sojourn in South Africa from September into October, whilst beneficial for my wellbeing and love life, it was one in which my blog was hardly a window into the experiences I had. I had taken to what might be called photo-blogging, posting groups of pictures on Instagram with some text to accompany my perspectives.

None of that covered to any detail the various insights of the historical and cultural tapestry of South Africa, this was mainly in Cape Town. For all we got to do, there is much more to do and see.

Insight

On one of our outings, we visited The Zeitz Museum of Contemporary Art Africa (Zeitz MOCAA) on the Victoria & Alfred Waterfront, in Cape Town, this was a reconstruction that came of out of old grain silos, the height of which once registered as one of the tallest freestanding structures in Africa.

As we paid our entrance fee of ZAR 200 each, I noticed that the annual membership was ZAR 290, having learnt from visits to other museums as the Voortrekker Monument, Liliesleaf Farm and Castle of Good Hope, we have never been able to complete the tour of exhibits with the information provided in one visit.

Experience

The absence of booklets, brochures, pamphlets, or guides covering the exhibits meant that we had to consider returning if we needed to gain the full knowledge and experience of the place. Now, I do not know how many people would get the opportunity to visit South Africa as frequently as I have been able to. My visit in September was my fourth in a year.

We got to visit Liliesleaf Farm again, but there is at least one more visit to go, but back at the Zeitz MOCAA we decided on the annual membership and soon had membership cards to flaunt. We believe we would be returning to visit soon.

Knowledge

Our visit introduced us to the major exhibition of the work of South African artist, William Kentridge, which occupied a couple of floors, much of which we did not get to see, but will soon again, as the exhibition titled, ‘Why Should I Hesitate: Putting Drawings To Work’ runs from the 25^th of August 2019 to the 23^rd of March 2020.

We hope then to get a better understanding of the narratives, yet, on learning more about him, we came upon the legendary story of his father, Sir Sydney Kentridge KCMG QC who only clocked 97 on the 5^th of November.

Trivia

Former lawyer and judge, member of first the South African bar and then the English bars, represented 3 of the 4 Nobel Peace Prize laureates of South Africa, Chief Albert Luthuli, Nelson Mandela and Archbishop Desmond Tutu, he also represented the family of Stephen Biko at the inquest into his death, his cross-examination so thorough, it exposed the culpability of the Apartheid regime.

At least, I had to let the significance of that sink in, and then understand how the scion of a high-profile personality can forge a career in a completely different direction and still make a significant contribution to national history. By coincidence, William Kentridge has an exhibition at the Tate Modern in London, running until the 17^th of November. Father and son have left footprints in South Africa and the United Kingdom.

Some inspiration I gained from the exhibition in Cape Town, will inform some future blogs.