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Scholar Sharon Shamuyarira on the Importance of ‘Why’

A lot of people like to ask me why I study business. The majority of them hear my answer, but never really listen to me. So I know I can have fun with this and my response will change depending on who asks me the question.

If it is a first year university student, I feel it is expected that I appear somewhat put together, so I smile enthusiastically and say “because I like it and I feel like if I understand business, I really understand how the world works.”

If it is an engineer who asks, I add a touch of humour and say “so I can hire you one day.”

I was born and raised in Zimbabwe and the majority of my childhood was spent with Gogo, my grandmother, an unapologetic authoritarian. Whenever I would ask her to go play next door with my friend Zodwa, she would just say no. When I would ask why, she would say “because I said so” and the conversation was over.

When I turned 16, I made the decision that I wanted to donate blood. No! That sounds overly ambitious. I made the decision to ASK my mother for permission to donate blood. It felt like one of the first of my many bold decisions.

If you don’t know much about an African childhood, I will let you know now: there isn’t room for many bold declarations. So I went home and firmly asked my mother, who is a half-apologetic authoritarian, to donate blood. She said no, and when I asked why, she said “because we do not donate blood in this family.” Remember I said half apologetic, so I could ask the second why. She responded by saying “because your grandfather never donated blood, we don’t do it.” At this point she was starting to get irritated, so in my better judgment I chose to leave the conversation there. In the moment I felt defeated. In retrospect I deserved a much better explanation, but I didn’t know it at the time. How could I?

African children are raised to be respectful. We are raised to not once consider talking back to our parents. This is fine to an extent if you are trying to instill values in children, but it becomes a problem when you want to raise a generation of critical thinkers.

Critical thinking is defined as “a way of thinking in which you don’t simply accept all arguments and conclusions you are exposed to, but rather have an attitude involving questioning such arguments and conclusions.”

In an African context for most children, the questions disappear, the curiosity is crushed, and the “what if’s” are silenced by the mother’s eye that says “Don’t you even dare!”

Photo: Sharon Shamuyarira, MasterCard Foundation Scholar at the University of British Columbia

Photo: Sharon Shamuyarira, MasterCard Foundation Scholar at the University of British Columbia

 

For a long while, I thought these constraints were a struggle unique to us as African kids.  However, this summer I had an internship with South Western Advantage selling educational resources door to door. Taking on the role of an educational consultant, I sat down with nearly 700 families in Ontario. It was here I began to notice something vaguely similar to my experience.

When I would sit down with a family, I would ask them a lot of questions. One of two things would happen: either the parent would jump in and answer for their children, or they would be genuinely impressed by watching me get to the heart of what dreams their children had and what really mattered to them –  just because I kept asking why! It became clear that not enough “why’s” were being asked in households, especially when it came to education and dreams.

This experience left me with many questions like: why has the “why” stopped being so important? Is it because we are being externally pulled, instead of internally led? In doing so, are we building a generation of empowered leaders or disempowering each other in the process?

Perhaps it’s time we evaluated how we define empowerment. Last year, when I had to write my first philosophy paper, the professor kept emphasizing how he wanted to know what my thoughts were. It was one of the few moments where someone had genuinely asked me, “What do you really think, Sharon?” In doing so, he empowered me. I vividly recall sitting and typing my assignment and wondering, is this right? Will he like this? – then stopping myself: “No, Sharon, do you believe morality is relative or absolute? Relative! Perfect. Now, tell me why.”

To be honest, the day you write your first philosophy paper is one where the whole world becomes clear to you –  or at least you think it does. Suddenly, I wanted to know the real “why” behind everything. It was a kind of innocent curiosity burning inside my heart that had been silenced by the customs and traditions in which I had been raised. Sitting here, we all understand the importance of critical thinking and fully engaging with information that is presented to us. It’s no different in Zimbabwe, or Liberia or in Sudan.

Wait… what did I just say?

Wait… what did she just say?

Studies have shown most people only remember 17 to 25 percent of the things they listen to, so let’s go back to the question about why I study business.

I study because of incidents that left me powerless as I grew up, like having to seek permission to do the things I wanted to do. This made me vow to have something to called my own one day, and I feel like business is my best shot at that. That sounds deep and genuine, doesn’t it? It’s not something you want to share at networking events, even though it’s true, so this leads to another problem.

The networking mode. It’s like flight mode, but it takes place at networking events. People go into this mode where they answer questions with vague descriptions just so they can avoid thinking about the real answer. University students have perfected this, especially when they are asked why they are studying what they are studying. We tend to just give these ambiguous answers about our major and its associated career prospects. By doing so, we refuse to engage with our passions and dreams, ignoring an opportunity to speak from a position of depth within all of us.

So I have illustrated how our traditions have constrained us, our parents have restricted us, and how this is similar across cultures. The real question is: what can we as young people do to rise above this and establish our own values, values that are in line with a future we want to see?

Real empowerment isn’t about waiting to be given a platform. It comes from within and it is our responsibility to seek it out.

It is like my grandmother always used to say: “AkulaNdlovu eyasindwa ngumboko wayo!” This translates to “No elephant’s tusks are ever too heavy for it.”

I urge you to start to engage with posts you see on Facebook and Twitter. Before you share your thoughts, write a line or two expressing what you really think about the issues. Then do me a favour: the next time your mom says no to you, ask why, then ask why again.

It is my prayer that you never stop until the real thinker, the real leader in you, is satisfied.

 

Sharon Shamuyarira is a MasterCard Foundation Scholar pursuing a master’s in business. She spoke at The Walrus Talks: Africa’s Next Generation, a collaboration with The Walrus Foundation and the University of British Columbia (UBC) in Vancouver. Other speakers included Ivy Mwai, Senior Program Manager at The MasterCard Foundation, and Brian Mukeswe, a MasterCard Foundation Scholar at UBC. Watch Sharon’s talk live.

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