A time will come, the old man told me, when what you write would be read
around the world. But the burden is heavy, he said, as you will need
to speak truth to all men and women and be fair to all of them at the
same time.
 |
| Simon Ateba |
You will meet many writers along the way, but only one out of
ten thousand would rise above biases, above their country, their
continent, their tribe, their religion, race and themselves. The old man
left and that time is yet to come. But as I look back,
I
begin to understand why I have friends around the world. It is not
because I told them I own a private jet or live in the best part of
town. It is not even because I told them I live a perfect life. It is
simply because I got tired of living a fake make believe type of life.
It is because I realised that no matter how rich, handsome, intelligent
or pious a man is, the same fate awaits us all. So let's be real, let's
be happy with or without a car. Let's make the best out of our lives
with what we have.
You know, I have lived long enough and got white
hair by the way, to know that whether here in Ikeja area of Lagos,
western Nigeria, where I am writing this, or over there wherever you're
reading it, the truth remains that in life, when we are gone, only the
lives we have touched will remember us long after our cars and jets had
been forgotten.
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