Articles > John Gora

This Is How My Brother Shaped My Leadership Skills.

By: John Gora

He is my elder brother; he was my maths teacher_ class of 2004 Inungo Primary. This is the story. We rode on the same bicycle, I cooked, and we ate together. Sometimes the food was too nice and the music by then Lingala's top 10 Metro FM was the gem. Music and a nice dinner took me away and sometimes challenged my memory towards homework assigned by him. That is not the storyline.

 

He was my football coach, but he never wanted me inside the pitch. Tiny I was but by then the community around the school knew what I could do with the ball 25 yards away from the goal. But that is not the storyline.

He was my opponent as a coach, then coaching Usinda primary school while I was coaching Inungo primary school football team but this is not the storyline

 

Let us go back to the assignment and classwork. Wilson was a brother and a family to me at home and along the road to school. Every time he said to me “Oya jump from the bike and join your colleagues” obviously at the school entrance things changed, he became a teacher just like he was to other pupils. He was the only teacher who referred to me as John, others called me Gora, my sir’s name. Fortunately, I have officially been awarded the title Gora junior being the last born with full resemblance to my late dad (Charles Gora Senior)

 

Quick we rushed to class everyone whispering around, Mr. Gora (the teacher) is not happy today. They would sort to know what the issues could be being a brother to him they trusted my opinion.

 

But as you all know the night before we had a good dinner, enjoyed Koffi Olomide songs, Lè general Defao, and many other hot Lingala songs, and went to bed happy brothers, I had hardly any idea of what the mood was.

 

There he comes, “good morning class” we all stood and chorus at our top voices “good morning sir”

The first statement he usually made was “all your books here” while pointing at the table. That was when a poor boy child remembered there was an assignment to be completed at home.

 

He would turn straight to my face and shout, “John bring your book here”. Everyone went silent. What happened after this is a story, I only came to realize its importance when I got employed and had projects to deal with and deliver results. David Oriaro and others know how it went

 

One fine morning on the line of duty as a coach we were playing a one-day tournament organized by the then one of the school sponsors to motivate students on co-curricular activities. He was just fresh from college and took over as the coach a day before the game. He formed his squad and left me on the bench as a reserve.

 

To cut the story short the match was played to a barren draw with fans and other teachers on his neck forcing him to introduce me to the pitch until the 70th minute when Wilson gave up to the pressure and told me to warm up. No one knew the reason behind it, but I will later explain why he was afraid to introduce me to the pitch....

 

At around the 72nd minute, we won a corner kick, and I was introduced to the pitch. Within less than a minute we were a goal ahead with a long meter range rebounds kick from my tiny legs. The ball was taken to the centre and the match restarted. The crowd went mad at my brother they all wanted answers as to why I was being rested.

 

Ten minutes into play Gideon Cornel saw me in space and set my pace with a loop into the 25 yards. What I felt next was my body flying in the air. Two goals up courtesy of the shortest guy on the pitch and the fans could not wait for the final whistle, cheers, praises, with my tiny size, it was easy for them to lift me shoulder-high doing their rituals before they allowed the match to proceed to the 90th minutes.

 

To be continued

 

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