What the TED Talk Was Really About

 

Ten years ago today, I gave a TED Talk.

I did not wake up remembering it. There were no plans to celebrate, no nostalgic revisit of old photos, no mental countdown to a decade since stepping onto that stage.

In fact, if a dear sistren had not sent me the memory and asked, "Are you celebrating? How do you feel?" I might have allowed the anniversary to pass unnoticed.

Her question stayed with me.

Not because I had an immediate answer, but because I did not.

The truth is, I left that moment in the past.

Not out of dismissal or ingratitude. Simply because life kept moving. There was work to do, girls to support, programmes to build, crises to navigate, lessons to learn, and a vision to pursue. The TED Talk became one of many milestones folded neatly into a larger journey.

Or so I thought.

When I paused long enough to reflect, I began to see something I had missed.

The talk itself was not the most significant thing that happened that day.

The significance was in what it informed.

The ideas I shared then, the questions I was wrestling with, the convictions I held, and even the things I could not yet fully articulate became part of the foundation upon which NiNa would later expand.

At the time, I thought I was delivering a talk.

Looking back now, I realize I was documenting a pivot.

There is something humbling about discovering that a moment you considered complete was actually in conversation with your future.

We often assume the value of an experience is found in the applause it receives, the recognition it generates, or the opportunities it creates immediately afterward.

But what if some moments are not meant to prove their worth right away?

What if their purpose is revealed slowly?

A seed does not hold a meeting to announce that it has been planted.

The work happens underground.

Roots form in silence.

Growth occurs long before there is evidence for others to admire.

Perhaps that is why I never felt compelled to revisit that TED Talk. I was too busy living out some of what it had planted.

Over the years, NiNa evolved. New programmes emerged. New partnerships formed. New understandings developed. The work deepened and widened in ways I could not have predicted ten years ago.

As I reflected today, I could trace some of those developments back to ideas that were already present then, even in their earliest forms.

Not fully grown.

Not fully tested.

But present.

That realization made me think about how often we misjudge our own lives.

We celebrate the visible milestones and overlook the quiet moments that shape our direction.

We honour the harvest and forget the planting.

We remember the destination and neglect the pivot.

Yet, some of the most defining moments in our lives do not arrive with fanfare. They arrive disguised as conversations, questions, presentations, risks, decisions, or acts of courage that seem ordinary at the time.

It is only years later that we can recognize their influence.

Maybe that is the invitation hidden in today's reflection.

To revisit our lives with curiosity.

To ask ourselves whether there are moments we have dismissed because they did not immediately produce applause, validation, or visible success.

To consider that some experiences are not meant to be celebrated when they happen.

They are meant to be understood years later through the lives they touched, the work they inspired, and the person they helped us become.

Ten years later, I am not celebrating a TED Talk.

I am honouring a seed.

And I am grateful that life gave me enough distance to finally recognize the tree.

Peace and Blessings

https://youtu.be/VH1K7nRGrYc?si=wmcMagZeRXqLPUq2

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