Risk, risk-takers, risk-taking; words that have become so common in the world we live in today. Motivational speakers would tell you that to reach your highest potential, you need to be a risk-taker. Our billionaires would add that you cannot be successful in life if you are not ready to take risks. Mind you, technically, all of these are true. One reason this word has become more common is the fact that it’s closely associated with the word “entrepreneur.” On my continent, Africa, the number of unemployed individuals is quite disheartening. The same story is told in my country, Ghana. Jobs are hard to find, and there are not enough companies in the country. We are now all encouraged to become entrepreneurs, and by doing so, we would create jobs and opportunities for ourselves and others. One dominant characteristic of an entrepreneur is risk-taking, and since we’ve all been encouraged to become entrepreneurs, it means we should all be risk-takers.
One may ask, what exactly is risk-taking? Merriam-Webster dictionary defines risk-taking as “the act or fact of doing something that involves danger or risk in order to achieve a goal.”. It’s brief and simple — I like it. Another definition I like is from Bibilium.com, which says, “Risk-taking is any consciously or non-consciously controlled behavior with a perceived uncertainty about its outcome or possible benefits. And to those asking why the title “Like Father, Like Son”? When you read the story “Daddy the Risk-Taker I & II,” you’ll understand.
You know, one of the biggest rivalries in the history of boxing is that between Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier. They fought three times, and writers called it “The Timeless Trilogy.” One might say there were only three fights, but these fights were so great because of the history behind them.
In 1967, Muhammad Ali defied the U.S. Army by refusing to be inducted. The World Boxing Association (WBA) stripped Muhammad Ali of his heavyweight title because of his actions and banned him from fighting. The WBA then organized an eight-man tournament to determine who would hold the heavyweight title — technically, Muhammad Ali’s title. Joe Frazier won the tournament and became the new heavyweight champion.
In 1970, Mohammed Ali’s boxing license was reinstated, and on December 30 of that year, the two officially signed to fight. Mohammed Ali felt he was the Greatest and he was robbed of his title, while Frazier felt he deserved to hold the title and was burnt of beating out those thoughts from his head and showing Ali the error of his pride.
The fight took place on March 8, 1971, and you can imagine the tension that filled the boxing arena that day. What was even more intriguing was that both fighters had never been defeated in their boxing Careers. They called it the “Fight of the Century” as it marked the first time two undefeated heavyweight champions faced each other. Frazier won the match by a unanimous decision from the judges.
After defeating Ali, Frazier successfully defended his title against two challengers. Unfortunately, he failed to defend his title against George Foreman in 1973. Foreman, the underdog, knocked Frazier down six times in the first two rounds, taking the title from him. Depressing, right? What a way to lose your title — an undefeated champion couldn’t even last beyond two of the fifteen rounds. Frazier wanted to reclaim his title and restore his image, but to do that — guess what — he had to go through Mohammed Ali. In 1974, a non-title match was arranged to decide who would earn the chance to dethrone George Foreman. Wow — another monumental match. This time, Mohammed Ali won by a decision from the judges.
In 1974, Mohammed Ali dethroned George Foreman in the legendary bout known as “The Rumble in the Jungle.” He knocked Foreman out in the eighth round. Finally, Mohammed Ali regained the title that had been stripped from him seven years earlier. Frazier defeated two boxers and then agreed to face Mohammed Ali one final time in 1975. In their previous two encounters, each had claimed a victory — and both wanted to leave the arena triumphant. They were ready to give everything to secure that win. The two men fought their hearts out for fourteen brutal rounds.
Frazier’s trainer refused to let his fighter come out for the final round. He feared his fighter might not leave the arena alive. Even Mohammed Ali, his opponent, admitted that the fight was the closest he had ever been to death. That alone shows how far they were willing to go. After the match, Frazier’s trainer faced heavy criticism. Many believed Frazier should have continued. Some felt he could have won; others believed he should have risked it all.
In this story, we have three questions to answer:
What is the difference between risk-taking and stupidity?
Does risk-taking need to be guided by a plan?
And finally, what is the limit of risk-taking?
I’m going to share three experiences in an attempt to answer these questions, and I hope my responses will be enough to do them justice. I’m sure the comments section on my various pages will help us get there — after all, knowledge isn’t found in just one person’s head.
First question, first experience.
Before we even start, my people, I know we’ve all accepted that children are explorers — little individuals with wild and crazy thoughts. But please, while we accept those thoughts as normal, let’s also remember to warn them not to act on them. Let’s emphatically warn them never to act on those thoughts — and most importantly, pray that God protects them.
When I was about nine years old, I was walking home with my elder sister and cousins after buying a few things. Unfortunately for me, that day I was walking behind them — I guess they thought I was old enough to walk home alone, and besides, we were barely fifteen seconds from the house. Then a thought just popped into my head: “Try walking home with your eyes closed.”
Hmmm, Ei, crazy thoughts indeed! Walk home with your eyes closed? What if a car came? What if I tripped? There could be so many consequences! My people, I actually closed my eyes — and started walking. In less than five seconds, I fell. I had no choice but to open my eyes to see what had happened. I opened my eyes — only to realize I was in a gutter. Hmm. I calmly got up and walked home. I felt a slight pain on my face, but I didn’t think it was anything serious. The moment I got home, everyone started asking questions — “Gabriel, what happened? Gabriel, where did you go?” — all in our local dialect. I was startled because I didn’t know what was happening. They handed me a mirror, and when I looked — all I saw was blood on my face. So much blood. That was when the pain truly began. They had to rush me to the pharmacy to treat my wounds.
What is the difference between risk-taking and stupidity? I believe that with risk-taking, there is a clear outcome that one hopes to attain. With risk-taking, we know there is uncertainty about whether the outcome will be achieved, but one thing remains clear — there is always an outcome in the mind of the person taking the risk. With stupidity, there is no meaningful outcome to be achieved — it simply doesn’t make sense. I believe the key difference is that the person taking the risk, in one way or another, has an outcome they hope to gain. I must admit, it’s a thin line, and drawing a clear distinction between the two can be quite subjective. This is where we need God to help us discern. And just to be clear — in that experience, it wasn’t risk-taking; it was pure stupidity.
Second question, second experience.
My dad — the main risk-taker — asked me to register for WASSCE Nov/Dec (the final major exams in Senior High School) even before writing the BECE (final exams in Junior High School). You’ll find the full story in “Daddy the Risk-Taker I & II.” The first time I wrote those exams, I was just about to start Senior High School. For someone who had never even been to Senior High School, the results weren’t bad — I actually passed three subjects. After my first year, my dad asked me to take more subjects and build on what I had done the year before. After my second attempt, my combined results were almost good enough for university admission. That was really good — I hadn’t even completed my second year in Senior High School however I had results good enough to send me to the university. I just needed to pass Mathematics. I had a D and needed at least a C or higher.
By my second year in Senior High School in Senegal, I had finally grasped the concept of the French system and was doing quite well academically. In my first year, I never made it to the top six. But in the second year — by God’s grace — I jointly took second position in the first term. It was extremely surprising, but it was also proof of how far I’d come. When the results of my second attempt (the Nov/Dec) came out, I knew my dad would ask me to take the exams a third time and finally pass Mathematics so I could have a complete result. Honestly, it wasn’t a bad idea — I had the chance to finish Senior High School with two certificates: one in the English system and one in the French. My options for university applications would have been much wider. I could easily apply to both French-speaking and English-speaking universities. The perfect example of a true bilingual! It was truly a brilliant plan.
When my second term began, one evening I sat down with my dad and told him I wanted to return to Ghana. He asked why I wanted to go back and explained how staying in Senegal would be far more beneficial. To be honest, it probably would have been one of the fastest paths to my dream job — working at the United Nations and making a meaningful impact in the world. I still haven’t given up on that dream though. I told him I just wanted to come back to Ghana. The real reasons, I kept to myself. I’ll share those reasons later.
I was taking a risk by returning to Ghana because staying seemed like the better option, and worse still, I had no concrete plan for what I would do once I got there. My dad told me to go to Ghana after my third term, but I knew it was an attempt to make me stay in Senegal. After my second term, I told him, “I’m not setting foot in that school again.” Interesting, right? The audacity.
When the third term came, I didn’t go to school. At that point, My Dad knew I had truly made up my mind. Some might say my dad should have forced me to go to school—and they might be right—but from my experience, teenagers who are forced to do things often end up rebelling in worse ways. To be fair to my dad, right from the first year in Senegal, I told him I didn’t like the French system but that I’d manage. I guess he felt that since I had tried for four years, if I was tired now, he should let me be. Everyone tried to convince me to stay—family, friends, teachers, even the headmaster of my school.
Some of these conversations lasted for hours, which only made me more afraid of my decision. One thing I realized about myself during this period was that “Gabriel is naturally stubborn” and mostly listens to his own thoughts. After this experience, I had to make a conscious effort to listen to counsel and actually follow it.
So, let’s answer the second question: should risks be guided by a plan? My answer is: it depends. It depends on whether the individual taking the risk has a full overview, perspective, and control over the situation, or only a partial one. If you have full perspective, then your risk should be guided by a plan. If you have only a little perspective, then your duty is simply to obey and take the risk without blinking an eye. Let me use an example to explain.
At a construction site, there are different workers with different responsibilities. The drivers purchase the sand, cement, and other materials and bring them to the site. The labourers mix the cement or concrete, and the masons use what the labourers have prepared. The overall supervisor is the foreman. Now suppose work is scheduled to begin at 6:30 a.m., but by 7:30 only the labourers are on site—no masons, no blocks—and the foreman tells them to start mixing mortar. That’s a risk because there are no masons to use the mortar and no blocks to build with, meaning the mix could go to waste.
A labourer might be tempted to tell the foreman, “Sir, there are no masons and no blocks—shouldn’t we wait?” And that would be a genuine concern. However, they wouldn’t say it because they know they only have a partial perspective. They might assume that the blocks will arrive in five minutes or that new masons have just been hired.
In the same way, if God asks you to do something and you’re certain it’s His voice, just obey. Put yourself in the labourers’ shoes and obey, because you don’t have the full view or perspective. It might not make sense but just follow His leadings. This also means that if you’re taking a risk and have the full view, you’d better have a plan. So, if we were to express this as an equation, we’d say: the greater the perspective or control, the greater the need for a well-laid plan.
Third question, third experience.
After the COVID-19 period, my university— the great University of Professional Studies—introduced online exams into the curriculum. I had already been taking risks, but this particular one I started taking was quite dangerous. What was this risk? I started submitting my exams extremely close to the deadline. In our school, once the deadline elapsed, you couldn’t submit—meaning an automatic fail in that examination.
Most students submitted their work at least four hours before the deadline—just to be safe. Sometimes, when the deadline drew near, the site would jam, and navigating through the various stages on the platform became painfully slow. Most students fumbled as the deadline approached—especially when there were less than 30 minutes left—and that affected how well and how fast they could function and submit their papers. Sometimes, the pressure made you so confused that you’d forget what to do entirely—and all that panic only ate into the little time you had left.
However, that wasn’t the case for me. I actually became comfortable during these moments and was not fazed at all. This reputation became so well-known that whenever someone was nearing a deadline during exams, I would be called to help because I could handle those tense moments with ease. I remember two final-year students who were struggling to finish an extremely difficult paper with less than 25 minutes left to submit. They called me for help because they were really scared. In less than ten minutes, I made all the necessary changes and submitted both papers for them. This earned me the name “Gabriel, the King of Risk-Taking,” and whenever someone called me that, they would place an imaginary crown on my head.
As much as I was highly respected, people often cautioned me to be careful — warning that one day I might miss the deadline and land in trouble. I never heeded their words because I was too comfortable; it felt like I would always find a way.
In my final online exams in the university, we had 24 hours to submit our work — 24 good hours oo, hmmm. I always had a routine: take two hours to read the questions, relax, and start thinking about the answers. After that, I’d start with my rough work and help friends who needed my help. After twelve hours, I’d have all my answers in my rough work, and then I’d start the actual paper. Mind you, I could have used those first twelve hours to finish the work like everyone else, but I always preferred to follow my routine. Six hours to the deadline, while some of my friends had already submitted, I had only finished half of my work — there was still a lot to do.
Seeing how much time was left, I devised a plan. I told my friends I’d text in the class group, pretending I was trying to submit but having issues, hoping the lecturer would extend the deadline. My friends warned me to forget that plan and just focus on finishing my exam. But I didn’t listen. As crazy as it sounded, the plan actually worked — the lecturer extended the deadline by two hours. Instead of focusing on finishing my paper, I actually left the exam and went to buy food. My roommates were astonished by my actions. They said, “Ei, Gabriel! This is your final exam — aren’t you afraid? This might affect your graduation!” I just shrugged and gave them a cheeky look — after all, risk-takers don’t fear anything. I bought the food, ate, and returned to my work. With twenty minutes left to the extended deadline, I was still editing my work. Everyone around me was panicking, so I started getting human countdown reminders: “Twelve minutes left, Gabriel! Ten minutes oo! Five minutes! Haven’t you submitted yet?” With two minutes left, I was still on the system, trying to submit. This time, for the first time, I could not get over the line. I hadn’t submitted, and I knew there’d be no second chance — this was already an extended deadline, and the lecturer had warned she wouldn’t extend it again.
All my friends shouted, “Ei, Gabriel!” At that moment, my foolishness flashed right in front of me. I covered my face with my hands and said, “I’m dead.” That was the moment I truly understood the limit of risk-taking.
So, to answer the third question: you’ll know you’ve reached your limit in risk-taking when the risk you’re taking could either lead to your death or make you feel dead if it fails. So, if you know the failure of the risk you’re taking could lead to your death or make you feel like you’re dead, please — don’t take that risk. I guess Joe Frazier’s trainer also knew the limit of risk-taking.
I guess most people would want to know what happened to me. After a few minutes, I looked at my course representative, who happened to be at my hostel that day, and said, “Maame Yaa, you have to save me.” She was one of the people who had been warning me all day. She knew how scared I was, so she didn’t scold me — she just decided to call the lecturer. While she was making the call, my roommates wanted to laugh but held it in — they knew their “elder brother” was in serious trouble. God was merciful — He used Maame Yaa to save Gabriel. The lecturer agreed to reopen the submission portal for one more hour. Everyone around shouted, “Thank God!” I looked around and asked, “Should I wait till the last minute?” Everyone wanted to beat me. “You better submit before we slap you!” they warned. I finally submitted — a sigh of relief swept through the room, for me and everyone else. After submitting the exam, “The Brotherhood” started cracking jokes for hours. It really was an eventful and fun day.
Generally, two things happen to most risk-takers. First, risk-takers often assume they are simply lucky people. Secondly, they normalize the risks they take to the point where they no longer see the absurdity in their actions. Please we are not lucky people, we survive because God is merciful. And secondly, it is important to have a support system to remind you of the absurdity of the risk.
I have taken a lot of risks — a whole lot. I might not have spoken about the dangerous ones like using a part of my school fees and finding ways to pay, or going places that could have led my death, literally. One thing I’ll say as a crowned risk-taker (of which I haven’t been dethroned yet) is this: always put yourself in situations where you’ll need to take fewer risks.
That’s the end of the story!
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References
Merriam-Webster. (n.d.). Risk-taking. In Merriam-Webster.com dictionary. https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/risk-taking
Bibilium. (n.d.). Risk-taking definition. https://bibilium.com