NO ONE LOVES MESSENGER WHO BRINGS BAD NEWS

I AM not sure where the term about shooting the messenger originates. .

But there are certain situations I would rather watch play out than be the one to tell someone about something so embarrassing that there is a possibility they will project their negative feelings on me.

Sometimes it is something that is simply too humiliating to broach because you try to put yourself in the shoes of the person you have to tell. You just cannot bear to see them squirm.

Or sometimes you just know that a shotgun will be pointed at you as soon as you tell the other person the truth.

When I was in primary school we were invited to some drama competition in which all the schools from my region competed. I can ’ t remember what the prize was, but it is not an important detail now.

Our drama teacher was to make a small introductory speech on the stage before we came on and, since the first monologue opening the play was to be done by me, I was primed to stand behind her.

My teacher had just come back from the toilet, I assume to release the pee associated with nerves. She instructed me to follow behind her as she made her way to the middle of the stage for the introductory speech.

The problem was that her skirt had folded inside and parts of her grey slip were showing. I stood behind her bums but for the life of me I just could not alert her about this potential disaster.

It was only after she turned to leave the stage and all the kids in the hall exploded into laughter that I realised I should have said something.

It took a while for the rowdy kids to be quiet and by then I had lost a bit of my nerve and did not make as strong an impression as I had during our rehearsals. Our school came third and to this day I feel it was the grey slip that cost us the crown.

I recalled this incident the other day while at a roundtable workshop. The person next to me went through his whole speech without anyone stopping him to point out that he had a bogey peeking out of his nose.

The man had tried to clean his nose earlier with a hankie but did a shoddy job of it.

For 20 minutes we all

squirmed as we noticed the embarrassing situation but no one had the guts to tell him to wipe his nose. We were all saved when he almost sneezed and proceeded to wipe his nose clean again.

How does one tell a lecturer that he has forgotten to zip up his pants? I know it is wrong but I look the other way and hope for the best.

When a colleague with smelly armpits at my first job had everyone concerned, I was fascinated by the separate meetings that everyone around her held. But no one had the guts to sit her down and broach the subject with her.

And what would you do if you had a boss with an over-exaggerated sense of confidence who had halitosis that was worse than the smell of a pit toilet? I know someone who is navigating the challenges of a new job and says there is no way that she can tell her boss about that, so she just grins and bears it.

She has learnt that no one loves the messenger who brings bad news, no matter how principled or truthful they are.

These are just some of those instances when honesty does not seem to be the best policy.

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“Honesty is not always the best policy