Above all else

I recently watched "The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind". It's a film based on the life of William Kamkwamba, a schoolboy in Malawi. He's a keen student in his village school in the town of Wimbe, and spends his time tinkering and repairing radios and other gadgets.  In the early-2000s, Malawi suffers from a famine due to a combination of flooding, followed by drought. Things get desperate, resulting in theft, riots, and William's sister even leaves the family to find a new life elsewhere.  William comes upon the idea of building a makeshift windmill. If they can generate electricity, they can pump a stream of water up from the well. If they can get a stream of water going, then they can irrigate their fields, and won't be entirely dependent on rain.  After much persuasion, he finally convinces his father to break their one precious bicycle into parts, so that they can be used to construct the windmill. I found the scene where they build the windmill quite moving.

I recently got an email telling me to turn up for a corporate photo shoot - you know, so that we have a headshot to put on websites, namecards, LinkedIn etc.  So the instructions were, pick two suits in different colours and shirt combinations, send them to our communications department, and they'll advise me on what makes sense (or not) for the shoot. I assume my comms colleagues thought this was simple enough. How hard can that be right? Unfortunately, they didn't account for me. I wrote back, "Guys. I have a problem." "I have one suit." "Black top, black pants." "Court. Meetings. Speaking engagements. Weddings. Funerals." "One suit." "How?" My comms colleague wrote back. "When is your birthday?"  Hahaha! So anyway, I turned up with my one black suit, they stuck an orange pocket square in the jacket for colour, and we went with it! ===== The episode reminded me of a recent devotion I wrote when I was readin

It's a week past Mother's Day but I have a wife-related story to tell, and they don't really have a wife's day for some reason (perhaps because it's supposed to be everyday?) Last Thursday, I was on the way home with my wife when I saw a weird looking cloud in the sky and remarked to her that it looked like the Merlion! This turned out to be remarkably prescient, because in a few hours, I would in fact be merlion-ing i.e. throwing up like the iconic statue at Fullerton. As the resident vacuum cleaner of food in our family, I was having various leftovers as dinner. Something or other must have gone bad, and by 10 pm, my stomach was starting to cramp. Things got increasingly worse, and at 1 am, I crawled out of our bedroom and threw up. I usually feel a lot better after throwing up, but unfortunately, this time, I didn't, and the cramps started to get worse. Luckily for me, my wife and son (who happened to be at home from NS) were there to sit next to me and make

Many organisations have mission statements, visions and taglines. These make up the corporate "dream". The best ones are often succinct. Apple's mission statement is "bringing the best user experience to its customers through its innovative hardware, software and services", which is nice and clear. But its tagline is even more memorable - "Think different". Sometimes, a little detail in a mission statement is needed to give clear direction. But punchy taglines often work best in practice, because it's what customers, and even more importantly, management and employees can remember and internalise. Otherwise it's just something to plaster on a wall or an annual report that no one actually practises. But if it's internalised... then the dream starts to take shape! For many years now, the informal motto of my team at work has simply been this - Make Others Succeed. We exist to support the overall business intent, helping the organisation get t

Imagine a grey-brown earthenware jar. It sits on an old wooden table, in a farmhouse. Outside, there’s a gentle breeze, and a rugged stone well sits next to a potato patch. The jar looks like it was well made, but also well used. Look closer, and you see patches on the sides, the rim, and even the base.   Be quiet and listen. There’s a drip. Then another. Look even closer.   Water is slowly pooling on the table, around the base of the jar.   Pick up the jar and inspect it.   Careful, it’s heavy! Almost full of water, almost to the brim. Lift the jar over your head, peer at the bottom, and you see it. There’s a spiderweb of tiny cracks, and water’s slowly seeping out.   Put the jar back down. Hmm.   You don’t see how the jar can be repaired. The base has been patched too many times, and the cracks are everywhere. Wait a little longer. Look into the jar. Sigh. Looks like it’s really leaking now. Half the water’s gone, and it’s pooling on the floor.   You look outside to the well. Hmm. Br