Blog Fodder

The Jacaranda is blooming & Christmas jingles are playing on the radio. A sure sign that the end of the year is upon us. I started cooking article quite a while ago and it has been in the pot, steaming, simmering. It is time to serve it up and free it from the confines of my publishing menu.

Social Media is the bane of our existence. Can't live with it, can't live without it. The furor that it creates in certain instances takes me back to a year in my work-life - a time when the "tea" was spilled in the form of a group e-mail. One such missive had me in a starring role. It was so unexpected, it shook my innards.

I must put in a disclaimer here. When you do not want to remember an incident in your life, you push the event (and this is mostly the unsavory ones) deep into your sub-conscious mind. It is for this reason that some of the details of this story are blurry. But I want to tell it anyway. What I do remember with utmost clarity is that the person(s) who decided I was a deserving candidate to be featured in the office gutter press did not feel that need to include me in the mailing list. However, please trust that I received word of the missive almost as soon as it landed in office inboxes. Let me tell you a story the size of my body...

I remember receiving summons to one of my colleague's office for the big reveal. It was a gathering of a few and some of those present were also mentioned in the e-mailed blog. There was an attempt to prepare me with a preamble of what was to come (bless them) before a laptop was swung in my direction. To be honest, I cannot remember half of what was written. I quickly skimmed over what was written about me. My blood literally turned into sludge in my veins and my heart was thundering in my ears, almost beating out of my chest. I could barely breath, let alone read!

The gist of the story written to was to scandalize, question my intellect, infer that I was unfit for the role I was holding due to the fact that I was once an Administrator - the words used to further create doubt were " a former Secretary". It was an attack - a low blow that took with it the top layer of my skin. I was raw! The intention - to create doubt, belittle, erode and destroy.

The Aftermath...

Defense Mechanisms. I cannot describe the numerous scenarios/feelings/responses that ran through my head in the ensuing hours. The first was (and it always has been in such situations) to come out with a response that will point out a thing or two - you know, (put truth where fact was left out) stamp out, refute and reverse the author's accusations. Strangely, I did note that there was interest (however subdued) in my reaction. It occurred to me that some wanted to watch me squirm, derived pleasure from my discomfort, enjoyed seeing me cave in - hide away. Ultimately I think someone wanted to affect my work-performance. I did draft response (in my head) I was fuming! I sought out my support system and surrounded myself with people who I knew were unequivocally in my corner. Few of them were also walking in my shoes. I listened to advise, watched and learnt.

Identifying the Enemy. This is the default setting for anyone who has been a victim of negative gutter press, blogs, social media post. To find the source. Identify and disseminate the enemy. For me, along the way, I asked myself: Find them then what? Defend myself? Lay out my hard earned qualifications? What? A confrontation? An epic show down? Demand a retraction? FYI, retractions these are as scarce as a 90 year old's teeth. I learnt that the only thing that comes out of digging to find out who is behind an attempt to spread vitriol is hate, distaste (a strong metallic taste in the mouth) and disappointment. What's done is done. What has been read cannot be erased. It is what it is. Accept and move on. This way the story dies a natural death. No fuel - no fire.

Letting go. I held myself stiffly in company groupings for a long time. I always felt like there were whispers behind my back. I experienced avoidance. I was very antsy. I felt I was being judged. These feelings took some time to die down. As a result, I stopped fraternizing. I cut out social interaction. It was work period. No work & play to unwind. My circle reduced in size and became so small, it was virtually non-existent. I was not open to building relationships. In this regard, I was ultimately hurting myself. I came to realize that I was carrying a yoke that was destroying me the person. The open, hard working, fun-loving and optimistic me. My outlook became jaded and took a beating eventually, I relaxed although I was always alert to negative nuances.

Sink or Swim? I chose to swim. Deep down I am a fighter. I know what I want and I always look for ways of achieving those goals. I knew I could not let other people's opinions be the foundation on which I built my career. Tempted as I was to start a pity party, It would be a short lived balm that would not see me through in the long run. So I put my chin up and chose to swim. I recognized however, that I was in shark infested waters and that I would have to be prepared in-case of another shark attack.

Suspicion. Such a strange thing suspicion is. It forces the development of new skills and these I did develop in the course of this experience. I learnt the art of listening - more so what was left unsaid, knowing how to read a room; spotting nuances. I also picked up the power of observation. Lastly, I learned how not to speak when words are not necessary.

I am the thief of secrets for I have learned the ritual of being quiet. I can become so still it is as if I became invisible and people forget I am there and begin to take me into their labyrinth of secrets - Julie Sugar

I suppose in my hypersensitive/hyperaware state, I was able to deduce who the authors of the group e-mail were... This was the way of the workplace. It still is. Only now, office "fitina" has evolved from group e-mail pings to a bigger stage - Social Media pages. It may never change and employees have to learn how to play the hand they are dealt to survive.

My name is Marsha Muchiri AKA Madam HR and this is my work-life tidbit.