Once upon a time, there was a young man called Katwa. He desired to be noticed and really wanted others to follow him but nobody seemed to notice him. He changed the way he dressed but to no avail. He dyed his hair green but again nobody noticed. He longed to have the girls fight for him like they did for his classmate Hugo but none seemed to even notice that he was passing by. As the days went by, Katwa got depressed and kept to himself. His father noticed the change in his son from the usual upbeat, young man to one who largely kept to his room and had no friends come over.

That Saturday morning, he asked Katwa to accompany him to the farm. As they drove down the dusty road, he asked his son how things were getting on. Katwa looked out to the distant horizon and with a surly voice told him how nobody seemed to want him despite the efforts he made. His father probed further and got to know why his son had at one point worn rugged, worn-out trousers, tattooed the whole of his left arm, and changed his hair color. His gait had changed and he even walked with a spring at some point. This desire for attention seemed to really hurt Katwa.

They arrived at the farm and as soon as the truck stopped, Katwa disembarked and walked to the mango tree. It was the mango season and the trees were heavy with fruit. He reached out and plucked a succulent mango and with child-like relish sunk his teeth into it. It tasted good, really good and it showed all over his face. After feasting on the mango, his father tasked him to help with picking the mangoes. As they walked down the orchard, Katwa’s dad pointed to the trees that grew on the side of the farm along the fence. They too had interesting-looking fruits but they did not pluck any. Katwa’s dad asked him the reason they were not picking the fruits along the fence yet they too seemed ripe and a weird purple color. Katwa replied that they were not edible and were indeed poisonous.

‘Do you know why we keep the poisonous berries on the farm?’, asked Katwa’s dad.

Katwa could vividly recall what his father had said to him as a young boy. ‘Because they are good at repelling the fruit flies that damaged the mangoes’ he replied.

‘So indeed, they are useful after all’, replied his dad. ‘In that case, please take some mangoes and fix them on the wild berry trees’, Katwa’s dad instructed him. Katwa looked at his father in bewilderment! How could he fix the mango fruits on another tree? They would not attach and in any case, they were different species. Katwa’s dad asked him what if they cross-pollinated the flowers or grafted the mango and wild berry trees? Then they would have mangoes that can repel the fruit flies by themselves! Katwa pondered over what his father had just said. There would be no way to tell with certainty if the resultant fruit if any would be edible.

Katwa’s dad paused in his work and looked at his son. With a loving smile, he asked ‘Katwa, what attracted you to the mango trees when we arrived?’

‘The ripe mangoes’, Katwa responded.

His father lovingly placed one hand on Katwa’s shoulder and said: ‘My son, you are known for the fruits you bear. The mango tree did not call out your name, smile at you, or beg you to eat its fruit. It stood tall and did what mango trees do best: bear mangoes. That is what attracted you to it. In the same way, you do not have to try too hard. Just be your best self and let your fruits speak for themselves. People will seek you out for the fruits you display’. Katwa smiled.

His father went on to say ‘Just as it is not possible to graft mangoes onto a wild poison berry tree and make it edible, any attempts to portray a character other than who we are is an exercise in futility. Taking on the behavior and traits of others would not make you, Katwa like them. Just be a little patient with yourself and things will work out.’

That said, they finished loading the mangoes onto the back of the truck and as they drove back, Katwa was smiling. He had just discovered a life lesson about standing tall in his element without trying too hard or copying anyone.