If you went to any Kenyan high school, during the era of Ethic entertainment, then you know that funkies were the thing. We’d spend days outside of class preparing to take part in these competitions that some school in Western had already won. From their Swahili choral verses to their speech deliveries, they were here to prove that they ruled the game. We, on the other hand, our team comprising of three guys who always forgot the lines, mixing up the first and third stanzas because they’d received a hug from a random chick they just met, were bringing a spoon to a gunfight. We were here for the vibes. This was my first interaction with public speaking. I wasn’t among the presenters; I was a joyrider in the crowd, being inspired by the spectacular performances these aristocrats put out there.
The first time I addressed a crowd was at a church back in Nakuru in the days of the late Emilio Stanley Kibaki. It was Youth Sunday, and the matron had been led by the spirit to think I was the best fit to preach. Congregation pin-drop silent, mic in hand, sweat from my palms tearing through the Bible pages, and a shaky voice, I was born for this. This was the moment of truth and like Ruto, I was deceptive. My confidence had taken an unexpected detour, leaving me in a race of incoherence that even Biden would beat me at. I failed to communicate. I hadn’t prepared to give a delivery of my own, I was imitating what I saw people do.
Enter Kendi Mwabila. She is the top brass when it comes to stages. With the mic in hand, there are no albums, just greatest hits. From Kendi’s third and fourth session, you quickly learn that “Makinika!” alone doesn’t really do it when it comes to grabbing the attention of your audience. Non-verbal cues are crucial in communication. Pitch, pause, pace; the three P’s of vocal variety, speech embellishment, and props are the silent magic of speech delivery. These, not only reinforce your verbal communication but also help you to build rapport and connect to the emotions of your listeners. And if you are nervous, these cues help you to err, uhm, er, reduce the nervousness and build credibility.
Never make a point without telling a story. Never tell a story without making a point.
Kendi Mwabila
She went on to dissect the anatomy of a good story. Like the heart, it has four chambers. First, structure. It would be so easy for anyone to stand before people and speak but structure is what differentiates a good speech. The architecture of a good speech comprises of three simple elements: an opening, the body, and a conclusion. A good opening is arresting, like a text from a long-lost ex, it demands attention. The body allows you to build your narrative and this is where you pack all the good stuff. The conclusion should simply be memorable.
Second, emotional engagement especially in this world of short attention spans is a key ingredient. Stories simply have to evoke emotions even as they educate. Third, authenticity. If you listen to NF, you can tell that this is more than a presentation of lyrics. He pours himself out by being vulnerable, relatable, and honest. Authenticity in story-telling allows you to share imperfections, find common ground and remain truthful in your stories and emotions. Fourth, vivid description and employing rhetorical devices is key to keeping the story exciting. The audience not only need to listen, they need to travel with you and experience your narration. If there are lessons, these need to be stated explicitly.
Sitting through these sessions, you realize that speech delivery is all about preparation. From learning about your audience to learning cues, and repeatedly sharing stories. We are what we repeatedly do. If I knew then what I know now, those Western boys wouldn’t stand a chance.