Edwin's Corner

  THE LIFE YOU WERE TOLD TO WANT A Two-Part Story About Freedom, Significance and Identity George could not stop thinking about the question. What if I tried to become somebody I actually enjoy being? Not look like somebody. Not impress somebody. Not prove anything. Become somebody. There was a difference. For most of his life, whenever George felt inadequate, he knew exactly what to do. Achieve. Buy. Provide. Upgrade. Make more. It had worked remarkably well until it didn’t. Now he wanted to experiment. Not on his business. Not on his family. On himself. The 100-Day Experiment George remembered the boy he had once been. Before the money. Before the cars. Before the expectations. Before success became his identity, when his father was too drunk to fix something around the house, George learned to fix it. He learned carpentry from an uncle down the road. He watched an electrician work around the village until the man eventually let him help. He learned farming. By twelve, George cou...

THE LIFE YOU WERE TOLD TO WANT   A Two-Part Story About Freedom, Significance and Identity Sometimes the life you desperately want to escape is not the real prison. “We are inherently flawed,” said the man on the pulpit. George opened one eye. Then the other. He sat at the back of a church near his home, wondering whether the preacher was speaking about humanity at large or had somehow received George’s file that morning. If it was the latter, George thought, the man was understating the situation. George had been through a very hard time. Peace had disappeared from his life so completely that he suspected it had changed its number. The previous night had involved too much alcohol, too little sleep, and several decisions that probably made more sense at midnight than they did now. Most Sundays were fairly predictable. Watch a movie. Recover from Saturday. Meet the boys later. Have a few drinks. Promise himself that next weekend would be different. Repeat. Church had never play...

A Five-Part Series on Decisions, Beliefs and the Architecture of Revenge There is a dangerous assumption we sometimes make about emotional intelligence. We imagine that because someone can control their emotions, they must therefore be making good decisions. Joseph had become extraordinarily good at control. He could notice anger. Delay reaction. Study people. Understand beliefs. Observe ego. Predict behavior. Create conditions. Wait. His father had reacted in seconds, destroying his life. Joseph had spent years ensuring he would never make the same mistake. But perhaps there was another question. What if delaying a destructive decision does not necessarily make the decision less destructive? Michael and his brother had already lost almost everything. The paint company was gone. Their local properties had been swallowed by debt. The social circles that once welcomed them became less welcoming. Money has an interesting relationship with friendship. It is sometimes only when the money di...

A Five-Part Series on Decisions, Beliefs and the Architecture of Revenge By the sixth year, Joseph was living two completely different lives. By day, he was still the hardworking young man helping Michael expand the paint business. By night, he was finishing the project he had worked on for years. Eventually, he secured enough funding to test his system in China. It worked. He asked for two weeks’ leave to visit relatives in the village, but instead he flew to Shenzhen for the first trial. He completed the patenting process soon after. Then he pitched it to a multinational company that had been looking for almost exactly that solution. From presentation to closing, the entire process took less than six months. They offered to buy the patent for twenty million dollars, but Joseph refused. Instead, he granted them an exclusive license for certain markets. In the first year, the arrangement earned him about $500,000. The following year it brought in around $2 million. Joseph now knew with...

  A Five-Part Series on Decisions, Beliefs and the Architecture of Revenge At school, Joseph had been exceptional. He had always known that the surest bridge across the circumstances around him was education. Despite the arduous task of caring for his father, he stayed near the top of his class. He performed exceptionally well on the KCSE and was eventually awarded a university scholarship by a leading bank. At university, he completed a demanding program combining mechanical engineering and accounting. But Joseph was not merely studying. He was mapping, learning, observing, and planning. He had decided on an unusual strategy. During the day, he would allow himself to appear vulnerable and disposable. At night, he would build his skills. While everyone else left work, Joseph stayed behind, developing a mechanical system he believed he could eventually sell to an international company. There was another reason he stayed at Michael’s business. Michael was connected to the family Jose...

  A Five-Part Series on Decisions, Beliefs and the Architecture of Revenge No one at the office really knew Joseph’s background. They knew the quiet young man who stayed late, but they did not know the boy who had learned very early that survival sometimes required silence. Joseph’s father had once been a hardworking and successful man. By the time Joseph knew him well, however, almost everything was gone. After an accident left his father incapacitated, Joseph gave up a scholarship to a national school so he could school near home. He woke early. He cooked mandazis and buns. He delivered them to a shop whose owner had taken a liking to him and supported him whenever she could. Then he rushed to day school. In the afternoon, he checked on his father. At night, he studied by candlelight. During those evenings, his father told him stories about a life Joseph could barely imagine. “Son, in a past life I was very successful. I accumulated great wealth, then lost it in an instant of stu...