When people think of events, their attention naturally goes to the stage—the anchors speaking with confidence, the performances, the audience clapping at the right moments. But what most do not realize is that there is an entire world running behind the curtain, invisible yet essential. That was the world I stepped into when I worked backstage with InkSleuths.
At first, I thought it would be simple—coordinate a few things, manage timing, help the anchors with cues. But once the event began, I realized that backstage is where everything comes alive. Every small action mattered. The way I handed a cue card, the whisper that reminded the anchor of the next segment, the quick adjustment of a mic—all of these small details had the power to make or break the flow of the evening. There was no room for error because the audience would never know how much was happening in the shadows; they would only see the slip if something went wrong.
The moments of chaos were unforgettable. A performer delayed, a technical glitch, a sudden change in sequence—it felt like time froze and sped up at the same time. I remember one instance where a speaker wasn’t ready just minutes before going on stage. For those sitting in the audience, everything seemed smooth, but backstage, it was a storm. Calls were made, instructions were passed in whispers, and in those five minutes, I learned more about staying calm under pressure than any classroom could ever teach me. The most amazing part was the collective sigh of relief when the crisis was resolved, a feeling of triumph that only the backstage team truly shared.
What made it all work was teamwork. Nobody was working for credit or recognition, because backstage doesn’t give you that. Everyone was working for the event, for the bigger picture. It was a space where leadership wasn’t about giving speeches or being in the spotlight—it was about holding things together so others could shine. I realized that leadership can also mean being silent, invisible, and still indispensable.
When the event ended successfully, the anchors and performers received applause, and rightly so. But for us backstage, the reward was different. It was the quiet satisfaction of knowing that we had been the force making it all happen. It was the jokes we cracked during tense moments, the eye contact that replaced a hundred words, and the shared pride when everything fell into place.
Backstage taught me lessons I didn’t expect. It gave me confidence in my ability to manage uncertainty, taught me how to adapt quickly, and showed me that invisibility can be powerful. I walked away with memories of chaos and calm, of stress and laughter, of responsibility and freedom. And above all, I walked away knowing that sometimes the most impactful roles are the ones nobody sees.