When I was still in elementary school, there was once we were told to play a tune on the recorder in front of the entire class as part of the music lesson requirement. Being the non-musically-talented person I was, I didn’t give a hoot about preparing for the “test”. One by one, my friends went up along the aisle of that cemented flooring classroom and do their stuff, and one by one the teacher marked a huge tick against the names on the class rooster.

My turn came. I held the ceramic recorder in my hands, meticulously covering my fingers over the holes. My mind went blank and I started to perspire. My hands shook involuntarily; perspiration continue flowing and I could feel my shirt stick on my back. My cheeks flushed. At the corners of the class were people giggling over the boo-boo that I’ve just created. The five minutes were the longest I’ve ever endured in my life. The result: a fool I have turned myself into.

The lesson was finally over. But the lesson was akin to a battle on the fields for years, friends distant themselves from me because I was the least popular - the one that couldn’t perform.

—

As much as I’ve struggled in my primary school years, I began to gain a little more confidence when I entered the polytechnic. This time round, presentations were plentiful because they were part and parcel of a polytechnic education. Having held leadership positions in the groups, I am repeatedly assumed to have made myself available to take up the position of the group’s presenter.

The conclusion: I’ve made myself slightly competent to stand in front of an audience.

I thought I have gotten rid of the stigma I have planted in me years ago; never did I expect the fear to strike me for the second time in my life. In Officer Cadet School, a place where all young soldiers envisioned themselves to become the republic’s military officers, we were trained to give operational orders to our men. And so, by selection we were tasked to present orders.

Unlike in schools or any instructional institutions you see on earth, the instructors in SAF, in particular in Signals Institute couldn’t be bothered to give a proper demonstrations to the trainees. By default, trainees are expected to be miraculously enlightened to absorb the knowledge or know-hows through haphazard presentations by inapt instructors.

Sure the SAF is moving towards the third generation, the training programmes today were supplemented with electronic coursewares that were replicated word for word from textbooks. It’s an example of trying too hard. Departments were pressured so hard just because the management wishes to augment training curriculum. It’s very much similar to those “electronic” notes that were photocopied and converted to PDF that NUS uploaded onto their servers. Simply bo chap (couldn’t be bothered).

So each day, the platoons trooped across the parade square and into the computer-aided laboratories to receive education from their makeshift virtually conjured instructors. And again, the SAF assumed that by the end of each computer aided lesson, trainees will get the knowledge in their heads; yeah right, probably by osmosis.

My apologies but I digress yet again. So, the day arrives when I am one of those very unlucky ones to be chosen to present operations orders and you bet I know no shit. Perhaps it’s the continual reprimands that previous presenters get from the commanders, but I must say that they have done a great job at instilling the desired amount of fear in us.

You were probably right, the presentation turned out to be a flop. I didn’t know what I was talking, and that, in my opinion is the worst that can happen to any presenter, be it military or not.

You probably could guess that the impression I have eventually left on the commanders did not turn out well either, so the ranking suffered consequently. What they didn’t realise is, their doing was an experience that was etched in my mind.

I must say that the skies cleared for me, a tad later, two years after I was badly impugned facing the entire course. Today, the same SAF, albeit better unit, better superiors and better colleagues, sent me for the SAF Instructional Course. And this course alone virtually transformed how I perceive things.

The turnout was a god sent, I actually conducted two presentations, one for 20 minutes and the other for 45 minutes. This time round, with fear greatly reduced, spoke with passion and conviction and the best of it all, confidence boosted and the ideal recognition I yearned for.