© Numero Unoma
Sometimes you try to advise a friend, by way of a health warning, that it might benefit them to do more of the one thing and less of the other. Like exercise more and drink less. I don’t know why, but people often come to me to solicit advice. Some listen intently and ask the sort of questions that indicate they are processing the information. Others on the other hand, also people who will have solicited the advice themselves, will then suddenly put on their ‘stronghead’ hat, and brush all the health concerns they brought to me in the first place, with a rebellious “Ah, abeg! All die na die!” Rebels without a cause if you ask me, but trust. me, even a non-cause will have its effects.
How I wish Nigerians could be as rebelliously radical, throwing all threat to life to the wind, when it comes to our political decisions. Political decisions can be a health hazard when informed choices are not made. I have found that a lot in life has to do with education, be that formal or informal. Sometimes the informal is more important, indeed more valuable than the formal. THe Germans have an interesting word, “Fachidiot” which basically describes a blinkered expert who is ignorant outside of their specialty. We Nigerians are known the world over for our thirst for knowledge and our hunger for certification. It is one of those now rare areas where we have a good reputation for anything. And while I love that about us (my father studied medicine in German, a language described by one student as being much like mathematics, and then he went on to do a PhD at Oxford University, which they call a DPhil there, btw), I myself have not come anywhere close to his academic achievements. However, I was raised on a staple diet of academics and of course, of academia. And thank heavens I am streetwise too. Put it this way, I may not have certain certificates, but I’ve learned a lot of good stuff. Some of it just fascinating, some rather useful too. I am today as much a critic of academia as I shall forever remain a huge fan of it too. Let’s get the criticism out the way, because what I want to focus on today is an interesting concept that comes out of academia. My main criticism is one that I believe applies to academics across the globe. It is that they sit in their citadels of knowledge dispensing education with a certain arrogance and an unmistakable vanity, to an annual supply of fresh batches of greenhorns, who revere them for their wisdom and aspire to speaking like them and understanding the schools and theories of life as well as they do. But if you were to drop an academic into the real world, away from the comfort zone that is their mini republic, namely campus, then they invariably prove to be not the best swimmers, and sink fast to the bottom of the human heap. That pedestrian little saying “easier said than done” is really an everyday expression of the discrepancy between theory and practice.
Today however, I want to borrow from some of the brilliance of academia, and because I know we Nigerians love labels of distinction, I have chosen to go with the Harvard take on this subject that is widely written about as well as practically applied, at least in the so-called developed world. It is one which I think we would do well to adopt (and adapt if necessary), as it would go a long way toward empowering our very youthful nation both as citizen and voters, but also just as humans. It is a subject referred to as Voice and Choice, a way of helping students to own their learning experience, and to process information in ways that are culturally and individually relevant to them.
As can be deduced from the description, students are encouraged to proactively participate in the learning experience. Asking questions is one thing. Asking the right questions is another. In a simple document, the Harvard University PZ Project Zero guides the learner via a number of questions through an investigative approach to processing information, and thereby to learning. If we agree that participation is a right, not a privilege, then in order to deliver that right in the field of education, we must first strive to understand thinking and learning, and importantly we must understand that the latter is a consequence of the former.
What is our orientation to learning in Nigeria? Do we see intelligence as something that can be learned? Do we approach understanding as something we do, as opposed to something we have? In order to support the youth of Nigeria (as well as us more mature learners too 😀 ) we must adopt a fundamental respect for the learner, and not just support but also share in their enquiry.
Project Zero defines itself as “an intellectual wellspring, nourishing inquiry into the complexity of human potentials and exploring sustainable ways to support them across multiple and diverse cultural contexts. Anchored in the arts and humanities, and with a commitment to melding theory and practice, we continue to work toward more enlightened educational processes and systems that support learners, individually and in community, to thrive in, reflect on, contribute to, and change the world in which they will live.”
So the idea of voice and choice is an approach educators take to enabling learners, as opposed to spoon-feeding them authoritatively with their own regurgitation of knowledge. Before you go off on a tangent about it not being STEM-based, check out the PZ website and see how it has evolved since its humble beginnings at the Harvard Graduate School of Education nearly half a century ago. Besides, anybody worth their salt knows that STEM is now STEAM, because sophisticated educators understand the value of the arts in social and human development. All the while I am thinking…how do we help young voters to educate themselves?
Aside from the participatory power of one’s voice, there is another aspect to the voice that we Nigerians would do ourselves a favour to learn about. I often find myself shouting at the top of my lungs “IS ANYBODY HERE HARD OF HEARING?!” at which point the animated exchange halts for a moment as everyone in the shouting match stops for a moment to let that sink in, before resuming the ‘discussion’ with the volume turned down slightly. It is endearing, when it is not terribly annoying. And rather draining.
The study of that other je-ne-sais-quoi aspect to one’s voice is what is referred to as vocalics, aka paralanguage. I bet you didn’t know that! It has to do with the physicality of one’s voice, it’s tone and timbre. It. Has to do with one’s delivery, and the subtleties of emotion and sensuality braided into the individuality of a voice.
I am reminded of how many of the videos coming out of Nigeria currently that I find extremely difficult to view. Often showing IRT developments, it is not because the visual content is disturbing, no, I am not referring to the category with the maiming or graphic loss of life type content. It is also not because the camera is just whizzing and jolting from one side to the other, and upwards and downwards as well, sending the viewer into a dizzy spell without enabling them even for a few seconds to take in the scene the person recording is supposedly trying to show. No, not even was this what put me off viewing. It was in fact the voice of the citizen reporter, somewhere between a bellow and a screeching shriek, repeating over and over again the name of the location, or the date of the incident, or both. They just kept shouting, over and over in a harsh voice overtaken by distress, or shrill hysteria, or who knows what. While it is understandable in the circumstances, what I am getting at here is the measured use of the voice as an instrument of power, as opposed to a repellant, when you don’t harness it and direct it in a targeted way. Another example is that Edo lady who banged on about Pastor Suleiman having endorsed Peter Obi. She belted out the news with her intrusive foghorn of a voice (for the record, I am equally guilty of having a foghorn, hence my engagement with this subject). Edobabe’s viddy was nearly 9 minutes long but I couldn’t get through the first 2 minutes, such was the (unnecessary) intensity of her delivery. She had moments when she would go gentle, and I was tempted to continue listening, but then the assault of her decibels returned and I fled.
What are we all going to do with our voices this coming Saturday? Are we going to speak out in an honest, authentic and considered way? Or are we going to run away with irrational emotions and botch the job?
I am waiting with bated breath to hear what y’all have to say. And how you say it. More power to you!