Letter from Kigali: Control, Trust and Appreciation
Thursday, January 27, 2022

"Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?” said Alice. "That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,” said the Cheshire Cat. "I don’t much care where—” said Alice. "Then it doesn’t matter which way you go,” said the Cat. "—so long as I get somewhere,” Alice added as an explanation. "Oh, you’re sure to do that,” said the Cat, "if you only walk long enough.” 

(from ‘Alice in Wonderland’ by Lewis Carroll)

Many people take the precious time during the holidays to rest, recuperate, have fun (safely) and then review the year just past and plan for the year ahead. At work, this might be part of the often-dreaded annual performance review. At home, it might be in the form of personal New Year resolutions. Before the first month of 2022 even ends, many of these good intentions may have already been changed, abandoned or forgotten. Why and what should we do about it?

Having spent most of my life in the Global North – including my education within my first family in England and parenthood within my second family in the USA – I was taught that we human beings could control almost everything in our lives: living conditions; work success; health and wealth. Even the ability to control our own complex minds and other people (although I was significantly NOT taught about the evils of Colonialism and Slavery).

The most puzzling and lasting message from my boyhood spent in England was the concept of a "stiff upper lip” – that you should have full control over your emotions (except when drinking at a pub or watching a football game or both). If someone was mean to you or beat you up, you must not cry under any circumstances.

As I entered the workplace in the early 1980s, one of the most revered global business leaders was General Electric’s Jack Welch, who famously said, "Control your own destiny or someone else will.”

At the time, it seemed that everyone agreed with him. And I did too, to the extent that I was extremely independent and as I could not and did not want to rely on other people too much, I needed to take primary control and responsibility for my wellness, my career and be accountable for whatever happened – good or bad.

This strong belief propelled me to academic success at the University of Oxford in England and initial progress in climbing the corporate ladder to reach the position of Vice President at two leading US banks in Milan, Italy around the age of 30.

But I soon came to realize that this wasn’t what I really wanted. I wasn’t all that interested in power or money. I wanted something different but I didn’t know what. While jogging in a park one day, I had a flash of inspiration and I then set up the first private career counseling firm in Italy. If I could not decide what I wanted to do with my own work and life, maybe I could help others do so instead? 

I have been successfully doing this kind of work for over 30 years since then but I have never, ever had a full-time employee or a formal business plan, which would have been too much of a constraint for me.

I know that I am probably at the far extreme of the scale of control vs. freedom but many others have come to accept in the last few years of a seemingly endless pandemic, economic turmoil and socio-political instability across the world that they have far less control than they wished they had or thought that they had, particularly in the Global North.

Here in the Global South, it seems that there is a different attitude to control and planning. For example, Muslims will often say, "Insha’Allah” (or "God willing’), which recognizes a higher force that has control over our lives.

In order to stay relatively healthy and safe, most people here in Rwanda seem happy to relinquish a certain amount of personal control to the strong central government, which responded quickly to the Covid outbreak by becoming the first African country to lockdown fully in March 2020. We now have one of the highest vaccination rates on the continent and we have just been recognized as the safest country in Africa for solo travelers and one of the least corrupt ones.

A key ingredient of this transfer of control is trust. Trust in the universe; trust in an ultimate power; trust in those around you.

So, instead of us individuals furiously plotting and planning for things that may or may not come to fruition -even with the best of intentions, support and effort - maybe it’s time for a different approach?

Instead of anguishing about past disappointments, how about appreciating what’s gone well? Instead of worrying about the future, how about wondering at the mystery, complexity and joys of life now?

On a personal level, I have let go of the disappointment of my recently postponed trips to Europe and the USA due to Omicron and I am now just grateful to be able to still work virtually and spend time within my third family here in Covid-cautious Kigali.

And I am letting go of the frustration of having to stay two meters away from my wife for the last week while she battled a second Covid infection in the appreciation that this bout was relatively mild and in the anticipation that our first hug and clink of wine glasses will be that much sweeter whenever she tests negative again. 

Many people know the first verse of Reinhold Niebuhr’s Serenity Prayer: ‘Grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change, Courage to change the things I can, and Wisdom to know the difference.”

But what about the second verse? "Living one day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time, accepting hardship as the pathway to peace.”

This is the latest in a monthly series of personal columns, entitled "Letter from Kigali”. Each month, local resident and writer, Jeremy Solomons – who was born and educated in England of Jewish, Lebanese and Persian heritage and naturalized in the USA - shares a unique perspective on what is happening in Rwanda, Africa and the rest of the world. The views expressed in this column are entirely those of the writer who can be reached at jeremy@jeremysolomons.com