The Wise Man

A wise man once said nothing. Really. Like, literally, nothing. People just assumed him to be wise. Grey beard, steady gaze, he had to be wise. He sat at his favourite spot all day and stayed polite; mouthed something in response to greetings, held his pipe between his heavily stache-hooded lips, he had to be an old wise man.

Till he spoke. Till he put up that post on Facebook. Till he sent out that tweet. Then Animwaa went like, “aah, fine boy paa na wabon saa no". I should have defended you. I could have. I just didn’t want to. There’s no excuse for your ignorance, friend.

You can’t keep shoving your smartphone in everyone’s face and then not use it when it really matters. They are words you don’t really have to misspell. Those are opinions a quick search on that phone would have disproved.

We are in such crazy times that you can’t forget your education. Everything Mum taught you at home counts. Everything, friend. Never miss an opportunity to learn. Never fail to listen. Please don’t sit through The Hateful Eight and come out still not knowing what a haberdashery is. When the school children use the “big English”, don’t hate it. Find out what they mean. Words are so beautiful. I fell in love with “schadenfreude” and never once said thanks to the guy I first saw use it. I actually do anything to use that word now. Includes writing long pointless blog posts… Wink wink…

The crux of this rant is, your nation needs you. The greatest version of you. We haven’t done enough to ask that of you, yes, but please at least do it for yourself. Be brilliant, be better. Please, do stuff, go places and be a Wise Man who actually says…. Well, just says something.