Analysis: DEXTER NJUKA
I NEVER grew up being macho. But I loved watching fights, streetwise and as a sport. Having heeded to my present-day vocation, I am
kindda off the fence on such. In fact, I have censored wrestling programmes on my pay-TV channels.
Back in the days, it was lovely to watch fights. On this planet, we have seen fights in form of combat from Trojans to gladiators modernised into sports of all categories at the festivals.
I remember dad and us kids would stay awake to watch a boxing fight that was televised at such ungodly hours. With all eyes glued to the red or cream white boxed white and black screen, we would keep awake in between sips of caffeine but lightly sugared beverage. Those were memorable days. The 1980s are difficult to erase, you know. Owning a TV or eating buttered bread made you stand tall among your peers. You were kind of some giant. You could say all sorts of unpalatables to friends at their tolerance for fear of being barred from entering your parents’ home for the 16:00 hours cartoon time.
Around 1986, I was grown up with maybe a couple of years to be initiated into adolescence and so, dad would care less if I remained awake together with him to watch boxing. Many of you adults will remember that Mike Tyson was the man then. Boxing mettle. And the common face of ringside announcer, Don King, self-dubbed boxing promoter of the decade with his iconic afro-hair forward pushed and in a charcoal black suit and white dinner shirt studded with a bow-tie.
Then there was this fight. Tyson with Marvis Frazier. Tyson’s shortest fight ever. One, two, three, 30 seconds coupled with quick uppercuts, Frazier was knocked to the canvas, slumped against the ropes. Thirty seconds of no usual boxing slipping or dogging or ducking or bobbing and that fight was over. I don’t know how those at Glens Falls Civic Centre felt to buy a ticket and only watch the fight end in half a minute. We humans of the 80s loved things in the slow lane. Slow motion, if you like. So many ended up feeling outraged by exponential victory.
There is a fight in the Bible that ended that way. A fight that ended before it began. It’s a famous story of David and Goliath. Many kindergarten class teachers have told it much better than I can ever endeavour. And many of us would rather relate better with David than Goliath. I mean, who wants to be seen in accompany of the vanquished? Truth be told that unfortunately, many of us have somehow been more of Goliaths than the little David. We abuse those that are seemingly weaker. We use our positions, titles and our social status to sneer at others.
David was just a sheep herder who was too thorough at protecting his father’s ‘few’ sheep but brave enough to fight his giants. He had gone to the valley where his big brothers had been enlisted to fight in the Israelite army, and was sent by his father to take some snacks of pasta and cheese to the brothers and their commander. So, he comes to this valley. It was a desolate place familiar for the battle of the titans. He hears some strong and deep voice down the valley. His voice was kind of hitting the two opposite mountains where the two armies had encamped thereby creating an echo. And this being was standing tall on the other side of the brook that raced through the valley that split the two mountains. A huge human being, David saw and heard speak in loud, boastful bravado style, pouring torrents of abuse to provoke Israel.
This bully was 2.76 metres tall. Full of salvage insolence he was. Brutal strength draped in a coat of mail made from brace laid over one another styled like fish scales. Man, brass here, brass there, brass everywhere weighing almost 35.38kgs and when he walked, he was like a robocop.
David had to close his ears from the cynics, naysayers, and doubters such as his brother Eliab. Neither was he going to allow Goliath injure his self-esteem. He was not deterred and he did pull a surprise on the giant. Whilst this giant was busy spitting his venomous words, David was in quick succession calculating how he would deftly use the five smooth stones with his boyish strings. He would never miss his exposed forehead. And when he let go of one stone, it flew and sank in his forehead. In a thud, and forward, the giant fell.
Do you have giants in your life? It be malady, economic crunch, marital issues or anything that stands up against you? Take time to read the story of David and Goliath in 1 Samuel 17. See how David wholly depended on divine intervention to become a giant slayer. You, too, can become one if you trust and obey God. Focus.
The author is a media and communication enthusiast.