I took time off from my column in parts of November and December. Over the years, this column has been the space I turn to when time out of work is needed. I agonised several times in the year to just let it go. I was constrained by time, no doubt, but I just kept going until I finally asked for some weeks off, which my editor was gracious to grant. I felt guilty whenever people asked why I was no longer writing, but here I am.
It is strange that as a young person, I thought I loved reading so much that I wished someone would one day pay me to just read, I would have eternal gratitude and keep going as long as my eyes can manage. When people say be careful what you wish for, take them seriously; the universe may hear you. And so, I ended up with a professional life defined by reading. I still enjoy reading, but it is increasingly hard to read the things I would love to like novels. There are so many interesting books in my house now begging me to read them. Biographies people gifted me, or I buy to have to peek into other people’s lives, away from my mundane one.
Development debates that need my attention and of course, my beloved magazines now watching me on endless board papers, minutes, policies to analyse and reports of all kinds. Writing is what I thought I could do for free because it was my greatest desire and goal. ‘Get paid for reading and write for free’, looked like my life’s best laid plan and purpose. The thing that was supposed to make life fun and pay my bills, reading, would turn into a lifelong affair, taking most of my time, leaving just enough to do a bit of writing. The column kept me from feeling that I failed at the thing I loved the most.
I would argue that I was still writing anyway, just another way. Training future writers, journalists and communicators became the thing that took me to the literal ends of the earth, and thankfully, I still enjoyed that. Thinking about leaving the column altogether got me to think deeply about how to know when it is time to leave something, especially if you love it and it gives you meaning. At the beginning of the electoral period, most of us received WhatsApp messages sharing the nomination of our elder and politician, Moses Ali and others.
For the most part, the message seemed to be about why do these people not leave the stage when it is clear that time is up for them? Who decides if it is something you love and defines you? I have left many times, spaces I still loved. And each time no one could persuade me to stay if I felt ready. When I had just graduated from the university, I got a job and felt lucky. I was to collect data for a research institute and within the week of training, got promoted to supervisor. I was paid well for a recent graduate, and felt content. It was a temporary role to end with the exercise, but I stayed for several months, working with the best bosses. I enjoyed the work.
I then got a government job that doubled my salary, yet I agonised about leaving. These people loved me and treated me like a person of value even though I joined without experience. I went with my appointment letter to the boss, and she hugged me and said she was so happy for me because I deserved it. In those days, parastatals in government paid very well. She said she needed me, but if I were her daughter, with my career just starting, she would insist I take the government job. Just like that, I resigned. I left five years later to take up teaching full-time at Makerere University.
This time, my boss did everything to make me stay, persuaded me and still, I left with his blessing. Then I left Makarere University, after 14 years of growth and service, to focus on teaching at Uganda Christian University, where I found the space to really grow. The decision to leave has always seemed very personal. That decision is often also dictated by so many factors, sometimes difficult to comprehend, especially when the situation is complex.
When my mentees ask me if they should leave or stay, whether it is a job, a relationship or things they embraced in life, I tell them the answer is within them. I ask them questions that help them clarify their thought, turn angles but the decision is theirs. Naturally, some people have difficulty letting go. But it can be liberating to start over if you leave for the right reasons. Sometimes the signs are that the grace that brought and kept you has left, when there is no joy, no passion and no peace. When it’s just a job without joy and your everyday dignity is commonly stripped off. Happy New Year.