Speeches by Nduati

A couple of years ago, I decided I would become a hiker. I had seen Bear Grylls, the adventure TV host, drink liquid from elephant dung, eat worms, and then get crazy stomach cramps, and I thought, “I want that. I want to be a rugged man.” I could just imagine myself posting photos of me on Instagram looking hunky and tough out hiking.

So, I bought the hiking boots, the hiking pole, and the backpack. I was suited up like a hiker.

Then came my first hike. For the first 30 minutes, I loved it. The air smelled crisp and fresh. The sun was mild – you know that soft gold light that makes you want to take a nap on the grass. Everything was so quiet, except for the buzzing of beetles and bees.

But that feeling didn’t last. What followed was eight brutal hours of exhaustion. I remember the last hour vividly. An almost vertical ascent. My lungs burning. My legs stiff and dead. Every step torture. 

But when I finished, of course, I took beautiful photos for Instagram. I looked at them later, however, and I saw the lie. Even though I had the look of a hiker, I wasn’t one.

This hiking fiasco happened early in my Toastmasters journey, and I realized a striking similarity.

Before joining Toastmasters, I had been inspired by a short speech from Barack Obama—not one of his political speeches, but a farewell message he recorded for my favorite show, MythBusters. In just two minutes, he delivered an emotionally stirring message that resonated deeply with me. As I watched him, I thought, I want to be like this man.

So, when I joined Toastmasters, I suited up. I got myself a grey presidential suit. I wanted people to see a charismatic speaker when they looked at me.

One problem!

I had the suit, but I lacked the skills. When I delivered speeches, my words weren’t emotionally stirring—they were emotionally draining for my audience and even for myself.

I would look into the eyes of my audience, and they seemed to say, “Oh God! Why did you smite us with Robert’s speech?”

At that time, preparing and presenting speeches felt just as painful as that first brutal hike.

Then, I had an epiphany.

Around the same time I started hiking and joined Toastmasters, I also joined a gym. At first, I attended group workout classes. In one session, I found myself working out alongside an influencer mom and an elderly lady. Looking at the two I thought, I’m the best student in this class.

Well the influencer mom turned out to be a CrossFit mom—incredibly fit. I tried to keep up with her and nearly had a heart attack.

During a ball slam exercise—where we would squat, lift a 12-kilogram ball, and then slam it to the ground—my heart was beating so fast I wanted to ask for medical assistance. To add salt to my injured pride, when we finished the session with planks, I was shocked to see that the elderly lady could hold hers longer than I could.

At that workout, with the shattered remains of my pride scattered on the gym floor, it hit me— I had to allow myself time to grow. I needed to start slow, use lighter weights, and improve gradually through consistency.

That was exactly what I needed to get fit, and it was exactly what I needed in my public speaking journey.

I needed to stop trying to be Obama in every speeches. That would only lead to disappointment.

Instead, I had to focus on gradual progress. I needed to find small ways to make Robert—not into an image of Obama—but a little better with each speech.

One of the things I did was start recording myself. After each practice session, I would replay the footage, identify one small improvement, and then try again.

As I repeated this process, not only did I grow, but I also started enjoying public speaking. Seeing those small steps of progress motivated me – pushed me closer to becoming the speaker I wanted to be.

After two years of walking slowly and challenging myself in small ways I returned to that first brutal trail. This time, I had the strength. This time, the last stretch, which once felt impossible, was now a delight.

When I close my eyes, that final vertical stretch is clear in my mind. It was raining. I was tired. But I loved every step. When I reached the summit, I sat under a tree, drenched in rain, completely soaked, covered in mud. Someone took a photo of me, and when I looked at my image, I didn’t see someone pretending to be a skilled hiker—I was one.

Developing any skill takes time—whether it’s public speaking, leadership, or anything else. To become great, you must submit yourself to the process of growth.

Be okay with walking slowly for a while. Be okay with lifting light weights at first. Be okay with delivering imperfect speeches for a time.  And every day, challenge yourself to take one step forward – to deliver just one more slightly better speech.

And one day, you’ll look at yourself and realize—you’re not just wearing the suit.

You are the speaker…. You are the leader…. You are the hiker.

You are finally who you always wanted to be.