In 2016, I visited Hargeysa Somaliland, for a festival, where I was invited to speak, sell my books and participate in discussions. During my wait at Addis Ababa Airport, in the wee hours of 2am, which is not really 2am at airports, I sat for an hour or so, under the air conditioning and shortly after I was coughing, unable to speak and my throat was sore.
On arrival at the festival, I had to shout to make myself heard, which never helps a sore throat, does it? The hosts bought me strepsils which helped. On the day of my main delivery though, my throat was still sore and my voice croaky like a frog about to turn into a prince. It was still just a frog, though.
What did I do?
I was well enough to move, eat and communicate with gestures and writing, and so on request for the team to amplify my sound, I spoke. I spoke with passion about poetry in Uganda, about my writing, about the Babishai Niwe Poetry Foundation and all the reasons why Uganda was a must-go-to destination for their insatiable literary appetites.
I was able to speak, with a bit of strain. I plunged forward and made sure that the people at the back of the large conference hall heard me too.
If you are unwell and have been called to speak, listen to your body. If mobility is strenuous and the medication is particularly strong, making you drowsy, you may always ask for postponement. You may also pre-record the speech.
Another time was in September this year, where I was invited to speak at an online international conference organised by Speaking Woman Toastmasters in Kenya.
Two days before that, I was diagnosed with acute malaria. For the first time in 30 years, I was diagnosed by this female anopheles mosquito ridden infliction. It shocked my system, leaving me weak, dizzy and betrayed.
I generally consider myself healthy, with a robust immune system and here I was, with my wrist strapped to a cannula and a prescription of medicine.
The invitation was sent to me in July, which I was not going to refuse. It was an online conference and scheduled on the second day of medication, I bathed and dressed up sharply and intentionally for this speech. Because I speak quite often, my preparation techniques involve using flash cards and rehearsing my speech mentally.
While I used to practise public speaking daily, I do not do that anymore because my work now involves arduous hours of writing and conducting interviews as well, for research.
By 6pm, I had taken Ribena, a slice of well-cooked and clean roadside chicken from a reputable neighbourhood restaurant, which is helpful during malaria by the way and I was ready to speak. I immediately apologised that I was unable to stand during my speech and explained to them, while also flashing the cannula.
Launched into my well-prepared speech, during which I impressed myself. I had mentally pored through the details, the story lines, take-away lessons and the time for questions. I was unflappable and highly pleased with myself. Dressed immaculately, with respect to the occasion, my speech landed in all the right places.
Because of malaria, I had to occasionally dab myself with a face towel and take sips of water. After the questions, I then asked to be excused because I needed to lay down. It worked though. If you are unwell, there are ways to navigate a speech that you must deliver.
Again, listen to your body. Pre-record the speech where possible and always inform the organisers and your team.
Best!
Bev
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