Public speaking scared me almost to death

Public speaking scared me almost to death.

 

By: Abraham Daljang Maker

 

It was in mid-June 2006, at exactly 8:00 a.m., when my English teacher called me to his office. Mr Mazu John, who was the head of the Literature and English class at the school, wanted me to participate in the inter-school debate. “Abraham, we have chosen you to take part in tomorrow’s inter-school debate.” He said.  I lowered my head because I had never given a public speech and had no idea how to do it. As he gazed at me to hear my answer, I had a debate within me. Can I go? Can I go...?  I eventually looked up and saw him still staring at me. I bit my lip and struggled to hold back the tears. “Okay, sir, I will go,” I replied.

 “Good boy, you will be the second main speaker, so get ready, and by lunch time, we shall be on our way.” He said. The motion of the debate was (advanced technology has a significant advantage in today’s world)

   I quickly left his office and ran to a nearby bush to rehearse. I stood among the trees, pretending to be the speaker, and the trees were my audience. I straightened my invisible necktie and tried to speak. “Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is….. I am opposing the motion that advanced technology has done more harm...” I repeated this phrase for several hours. It was already 1:00 pm, and it was time for lunch, but I overlooked that; instead, I was busy practising. As I continued with my practice, my friend Anguyo Richard called me. “Mr Trees’ preacher, can you come for lunch so that we can go to the debate?” I swiftly ran to the dormitory to pick up my plate, but I was late; the line was already long, and most of my colleagues who were going to the debate with me had been served. I stood at the tail of a very long queue, and we had about 20 minutes to go. Fortunately, a prefect on duty came and helped me skip the line, and I was served. I took about three lumps of food, and time was already against me.

I quickly put on the school uniform, a red necktie, and nicely polished black shoes. We jumped onto a school truck, with metallic bars above our heads, which we used to support ourselves while standing. There were light afternoon showers that day, and we were many in the truck; packed like goats, people were sweating, but I was the opposite - I was very cold and even started shivering. A friend of mine saw me and gave me his coat to put on, but it was like ice. Students were chanting with a lot of singing and shouting, but I remained quiet; all I could think of was how I would begin the talk. I kept rehearsing; I was in my own world, in my daydream, where I saw myself being appreciated for the nice talk. There came Aguyo Richard again, “Abraham, look! Look!” But I didn’t hear anything until he struggled to push his way into the truck to where I was standing. He came and touched my shoulder, saying, 'Look, the school is near.' I woke up from my daydreaming and saw that many students were waiting for us, singing. We were to meet at a single school (a girls’ school); our opponents had not yet arrived. The school head prefect received us and escorted us to a large central hall, where we were to attend the debate. We hardly sat down when we heard our opponents making noise as they approached the hall.

Alas! My shivering increased terribly; they were ushered in to take up their seats. The patron opened the debate, and the real war now had to begin. I was totally lost in thought, trying to figure out how to pose when it would be my turn; I was awfully quaking in the chair, almost falling. Marble Rebecca, who was one of the participants from my school, sat next to me. She was a big girl who was in Advanced levels. When she saw my woe, she gently put her hand on my shoulder and whispered, “Calm down, Abraham, you will be alright.” I glanced at her and saw in her beautiful eyes a sense of comfort and sympathy at the same time. She rested her hand on my shoulder to ensure that I wasn't trembling so much, but that didn’t help me. Readers, I was in my senior four at that time, a candidate who was also preparing to sit exams and join the Advanced levels.

“Second main speaker from Vurra secondary school, can you come and oppose the motion?” the voice called. Marble released her hand and whispered again, “Good luck, my brother.” I stood up straight, touched the base of my neck-tie and then began to speak. All the words I had been rehearsing had totally disappeared from my brain, and my mind went blank. My tongue was dry and felt very heavy, like a piece of wood in my mouth. I felt as if I had no legs at all; instead, I felt as if I had only one leg. I stopped shaking, but I sweated profusely; all my clothes were soaked.

I started to oppose the motion, but I thought I was standing, yet I was slowly walking nervously and aimlessly on the stage. I was stammering, and not a single word came out. All of a sudden, there came a scary voice, “Point of inquiry, Mr Speaker!  Is it allowed for the speaker to stand nervously and even face his back to the audience?”  I adjusted well and started again. Before I opened my mouth, the crowd looked too big, and my legs were failing me with each passing second, and time was elapsing. The eyes of the audience seemed to form a single, unblinking gaze, fixed on me. Before I realised it, I moved towards the officiating officers, but I was interrupted by another inquiry. I was doing all this unconsciously; it was time for me to leave the stage, but I had not said a single word at all. The bell rang twice, “Time up, Mr Speaker, can you summarise your points?” This was a reminder from the timekeeper. I thanked the time keeper inwardly for saving me. I then said, “With all these points that I have mentioned. I want to stress that advanced technology has done more harm than good.” Before I moved away, the crowd cheered me up as I advanced to take up my seat, but many people wondered what points I had mentioned apart from just being nervous.   Rebecca murmured to me and said, 'It was nice, but you will improve next time.' But inside me, I was telling her that I would never do it. She also did her part perfectly, being a good speaker; people cheered her whenever she made a point. I clapped for her, too, but wondered why God didn’t grant me the same talent.

At the end of the debate, our school emerged as a loser, and we were unable to qualify for the final discussion. As we moved out of the hall, everyone was flattering me, “Well done, Abraham, but you will do it well next time.” Anguyo Richard vexed me the more; he came and said.

 “I like you today because you were preaching to trees, thinking that you would address people like trees. You also started shivering as if you were in Russia or Germany during the winter, and I wonder how you would feel if this debate were done in winter in Germany? And on the stage, you stood nervously like a dog which has seen a hyena, and you even sweated as if you were in a steam bath.” He said all this in a few minutes.

 I wanted to smash his face, but he was a very giant boy who could send me to the ground with only one punch. So I kept quiet; he patted me on the back and said, “Take it easy, old boy, you will make it next time.” As I write this piece, the whole episode is still lingering in my mind. There were many public speeches I made, but one stands out as particularly horrible and scary.

 

In September 2014, I was expected to present and defend my research dissertation as a requirement for the award of my master's degree in Development Studies, which was scheduled for October 2014. Although there will be many professors and doctoral individuals, I will not feel the same way I did a few years ago.