I used to be humorous. At times, my humour got me into trouble. One memorable time was in my 3rd year at the university. There is nothing that excites a campus student in Kenya like free food. So, one afternoon, my friend told me our campus staff was inviting us for fish that evening. All plans for the evening, including revising for an exam, gave way to the free dinner that would lead to fun and many wonderful conversations.
After that, we started walking back to the hostels at midnight. I had a huge hoodie, which came in handy on such occasions while walking in the cold. No one really had freedom then as a university student.
Along the highway, just before we got to the university gate, we met the night patrol police. They wanted to know who we were. And the conversation went like this:
Police officer: “Mnataka tuende na nyinyi?” (Do you want us to pick you up?—commonly meaning arrest you.)
Me: “Sijui mnaenda wapi lakini sisi tunaenda tu hapa campus, so mkitaka ni sawa.”
Police officer: Where are you coming from?
Me: Up there.
Police officer: Where is up there?
Me: (cheekily) Kwa Eva.
Police officer: Who is Eva? You know when we are killing thieves and prostitutes who walk at night, we can also kill you? And why are you putting your hands in your pockets?
Me: You met me with my hands in my pockets—how is that a problem?
Police officer: So you are the spokesperson?
The rest of my friends had been quiet. All I can remember is the serious clobbering that happened to me, and my friends helped me get to the hostel and nursed my wounds for some time.
Looking back, nothing about that situation needed humour. What failed that night is what communication scholars call Communication Accommodation Theory (Giles, 1973) the idea that effective communication requires adjusting your tone, language, and behaviour to match the social context and the person you are speaking to.
You can either Converge (adjust to the other person’s tone, power, and expectations) or Diverge (maintain your own style regardless of context)
That night, I diverged. Badly.
The police officers were operating in a context of authority, suspicion, and control. Their language was direct, loaded, and serious. Mine was casual, playful, and slightly cheeky. which was interpreted as defiance and disrespect.
There are moments that require reverence, and moments that allow relatability. Wisdom is knowing the difference. I have over time made intentional steps to understand and act in the knowledge that Humour in the wrong place can dilute truth. Sarcasm around sensitive issues can alienate rather than convict. Sometimes when someone is expressing pain, and we respond with lightness, what they might hear is dismissal although depending on the audience, it might be what they need. What I have had to learn is how select the audience for what kind of humor and trust I am not up there but I have grown significantly.
This is where Emotional Intelligence (Goleman, 1995) becomes critical not just knowing what to say but sensing what the moment requires.
Because communication is not just about what you say. It is about whether the other person is in a position to receive it the way you intend.
Later I understood that pocketing in the manner I was and the way I was dressed, could be a threat to the police because I could have had a firearm. I was just having a entertaining conversation but with the wrong audience for such a conversation.
Refences
Goleman, D. (1995). Emotional intelligence: Why it can matter more than IQ. Bantam Books.
Giles, H. (1973). Accent mobility: A model and some data. Anthropological Linguistics, 15(2), 87–105.