On the 31st December 2020, I was invited to take part in a Nationwide Youth Speech Competition for individuals aged between 13-19 years old. The event was organised over ZOOM by the Society of Nepalese Professionals (SoNP). There were around 28 individuals taking part and each contestant was provided 3 minutes to present a talk on the Impacts and Challenges of COVID-19. In the build-up to all this, my dad had drilled an old Nepali proverb into my head. In translation, it goes: “In order to take down a fox, prepare like you’re getting the tiger. ” In other words, this may not have been the prestigious TED Stage I was preparing for, but I should put in the work as if it were.
The speeches were immersive; every single person made a series of remarkable points, Each presentation was diverse and thought-provoking – I found myself quite moved more than once.
And then it was my turn.
It was the first time I’d ever taken part in an event of this nature, but through constant love and encouragement from family and friends, I felt calm and measured throughout. Having people across the nation hear your message is an exhilarating thing. I was contestant No. 9, which turned out great as some of that restless energy I had been feeling swiftly dissipated after my speech. It also meant I was able to focus on enjoying the remaining talks as opposed to fretting over my own. There was a panel of judges with detailed marking criteria who then left the call to tabulate and deliberate… for what honestly felt like an eternity. Soon enough, the results were in.
First Place! I was extremely humbled and grateful – even a tad doubtful- to learn I had won. I remember sitting there, gently taking it in, swallowing the firecrackers of delight and disbelief in rich gulps.
Again, none of its would have been possible without the support of my loved ones. Any successful competitor might find themselves in the limelight, but we must all turn to the unfailing care and boundless tenacity of people around them – for that is what renders any of it possible; they are the real cause for celebration. My parents and brother were the chief unsung heroes of this tale. Thank you once again to SoNP for organising the event – it was a brilliant initiative which gave us all a collective insight into how COVID has impacted the wider population. It was nice to feel a sense of community, especially in a time where circumstances seemed to allow for anything but.
Below is the transcript of my original speech, for any of you who may be interested. Even if you are not, my final token of gratitude goes out to you, readers. Thank you for taking the time to walk with me.
Ode to Pandemic
Dear Covid. You’ve left 7 billion bodies exhausted, weak, and lost. Young people, reduced to observers in a world we have every right to experience. Businesses shuttered, careers destroyed and the economy plunged into a devastating recession. We can’t look away. Forced to watch society bleed from our bedroom window. Forced to witness seeds of prejudice become trees of systemic hatred and institutional racism. Forced to hide our silent screams, behind a mask.
Dear Covid, you cancelled our exams. Made thousands and thousands of students leave their futures on the doorstep of Number 10. Do we dare trust an institution that would have us change who we are, to align with who they think we ought to be? Kids are begging for answers. No one has the answers. Trapped in virtual education, we have never been more alone in a crowd. Many of us have family back home in Nepal, and every day we pray for them.
It’s a dangerous time for mental health.
And yet young people have come so far. We’re all grown up – pressed for a maturity way beyond our years. 12 months caught in a limbo of crying, then panic buying – normality always just 2 metres out of reach. Still, Clap for Carers gets louder and louder. Socially-distanced, yet closer than ever. We’ve moved heaven and earth for new technology. From protein-folding ft. AI, to food shopping by remote. The vaccines are coming thick and fast. The only way is up.
Dear Covid, you are bigger than all of us. Even planet earth stopped in her tracks. With CO2 Emissions down a record 2.3 billion tonnes, Mother nature could finally breathe.
2020 taught us patience. Reminded us that ‘being human’ goes far beyond matters of the heart, or the colour of our skin. It was a year of loss. But through resilience, innovation, and unconditional love, we earned the courage to face our demons. Though every story is unique, we’ve made this journey, hoping and dreaming, as one. Covid, you may not be the last pandemic we ever face. but don’t assume for 1 second that humanity will go undefended. They say the darkest hour comes just before the dawn. So bring on that golden sunrise…
We’ll beat this thing.
Together.