A Valuable Lesson from an Elephant
My parents were deeply involved in development aid work, which meant my sister and I spent a significant portion of our childhood and adolescence in eastern and southern Africa.
In 1992, we were living in Harare, the capital of Zimbabwe. In April that year, we joined another family to visit Mana Pools, a national park in the northern part of the country. We would spend one night in a two-story house within the park, nestled beside the majestic Zambezi River.
We left Harare early in the morning and arrived at the house around lunchtime. Exhausted and hungry, we grabbed some refreshments and ventured into the small garden behind the house. There, in the shade of a towering tree, we settled down to take in the beauty around us.
We were observing some hippos by the river's edge when all of a sudden, a massive elephant bull emerged from the bush. Silence enveloped us as the bull gracefully made his way toward the river, pausing occasionally to graze.
As I sat there watching the large animal, I realized that my friend (who was a year younger than me) was standing several meters closer to the elephant than the rest of us. For some reason, I found that impressive and decided to join him. But when I reached him, whether intentionally or not, he took two steps forward, once again placing himself closer to the elephant than I was.
So, I took three steps, drawing myself nearer to the elephant than everyone else. But, after a few moments, my friend took two more steps, so I did the same. We continued like this for what felt like forever. I could hear our parents telling us not to get any closer but we ignored them.
Eventually, my friend stopped moving. A sense of childish pride washed over me as I took a few more steps, realizing that I was closer to the animal than everyone else. Only then did I realize - I was close - very close. Fear overcame me. What if the bull decided to charge? In fact, didn't he seem a little agitated - the ears raised, tail stiff? I'd seen elephants charge and let me tell you, they're fast.
All of a sudden, while I was busy imagining the worst, the elephant suddenly lunged at me. I let out a scream and started running towards the house. I passed my friend, who hadn't reacted yet. I raced as fast as my legs could carry me back to the safety of the house.
Upon reaching the door, I spun around, ready to slam it shut as soon as everyone was inside. It was then that I noticed everyone standing in their original positions, gazing at me. Even the elephant seemed to regard me with a sense of bemusement.
The elephant hadn't attacked. He had turned and used his trunk to scratch his back. If I hadn't been so focused on outdoing my friend, and taking the lead, I would have maintained a comfortable distance. This would've allowed me to observe the situation more rationally.
Never let your desire to take the lead cloud your judgment. It's far wiser to do like my friend and stop while you're still in control of the situation.
