Wishing candidates success in their exams? The cards have it

It is that time of the year when relatives and friends scramble to send success cards to their loved ones as they prepare to sit national examinations.

From the days when a typical message read like this: Heart+Discipline+Prayers=Success or Best wishes in your Egg-zam, the success card has come a long way and become more sophisticated, bigger, bolder, better and what is more, they have more music and more flashing lights.

Back in the day, the cover of a success card featured a still life showing a vase of flowers, but as far as images went, none topped the picture of the slim man in a plaid shirt posing next to an impossibly beautiful model.

And some, upon retrieval from the envelope, chimed with repetitive melodies. A card with a tune powered by a watch battery was the pinnacle of arrival.

SUCCESS MESSAGES

Both the pithy messages and the photos on success cards may have morphed over time but the card has retained its place in the hearts of many. It is, possibly, the only interaction that some Kenyans have with the post office when they go to buy a stamp and post the card.

The success card is one of those pieces of Kenyan peculiarities that has endured to become part of the country’s social, even literary, fabric. It is almost blasphemous to imagine the streets and bookstores and shops in October and November devoid of the cards.

The messages of success in the card, the thrill of a candidate's name called out during morning parade or mail hour has music to it that lasts long after the exam results have been announced.

But there is also a downside to it: Not everyone gets a card and not everyone gets a card from the people who had promised one. That also means not every student hears her/his name read out. And the effect of this, especially for young impressionable minds, can bring with it a loss of self-esteem.

“There is some vanity associated with the success card, and I cannot say it is a healthy thing,” said Mrs Susan Kamau, the head teacher at Kagumo Primary School in Karima, Othaya. “It plays into the old situation of children comparing each other based on their various backgrounds. It can have adverse effects like low self-esteem on pupils who do not receive a success card.”

To counter this, some schools only give cards to the candidates after they have already done their examinations.

“The only cards read out before the exam room are those addressed to the general population,” said Ms Kamau.

Because of the pride associated with receiving one, the success card has become so central to the examination process as to be an obsession. But what is without doubt is that the card is an entrepreneurial golden goose.

A spot check this week reveals a booming trade in the cards — from the streets to supermarkets — with shoppers clearly spoilt for choice. The streets of different towns have come alive with an avalanche of colour and the synchronised music of vendors announcing the season with a windfall in mind.

And supermarkets have set up special sections where shoppers can pick the cards of their choice depending on the depth of their pockets or the size of their ego.

'KENYAN TRADITION'

The success card and the tradition of expressing customised goodwill has been a post-independence Kenyan tradition for as long as there have been exams. The tradition draws on basic advertising tenets: The aesthetic pull of an image and the comradeship of a message drawn in one’s hand.

The features have evolved over time, occasioned by changing trends and tastes. The posing couple was a hit in the 1980s and early to mid-1990s. The turn of the century brought with it media liberalisation and an explosion of new technology.

The old couple was retired and in its place came images and logos of English Premier League teams and their sunniest stars: a smiling Thierry Henry of Arsenal or the pitchforks of Manchester United. Reggae and Dance hall stars like Vybes Cartel and Luciano, and Hip-hop, and R & B stars Eminem and 50 Cent and Chris Brown crept in too, amid the timeless bouquets of flowers.

Then, like now, the cover was and still is as important as the message inside the card. It says something about the sender as much as it reveals what the sender thinks of the receiver.

In recent times, enterprising local celebrities have identified a marketing opportunity in the success card. Politicians have also been known to brand themselves in cards, especially if the examinations coincide with an election year.

Some of those long-ago cards are now part of interior decor in faraway villages, sitting astride a string in the cubicles of young men, in living rooms, or pinned to the wall alongside pages torn from colourful calendars.

They are yellowed and full of hope and promise — even innocence — but they also symbolise the hope of bygone times, when, as the people of that age are wont to say, exams were exams.