The Tangled Webs That We Weave

I have made many mistakes in my life and, I think some could have been potentially life-altering. In spite of my current station in life, I remember some of the mistakes that I have made but not even on the best days would I ever claim that I remember all.  It is possible (no, it is definitely the case) that I made some mistakes that I may never even know I made. Of the ones that I know, the mistakes do not define me, and that is only by God’s grace and not a consequence of my human ingenuity.

But how is it possible that I would make mistakes that I did not know of? Well, there are many ways that that could have happened but much of it comes down to the Machiavellian complex that is inherent in all human beings; the feeling that the end justifies the means.  Therefore, we do not always focus on our mistakes when our actions yield what others and we perceive as success. Instead, we tend to embrace and dwell on our successes and much less on the mistakes that we made along the way. Soon, those mistakes become very dim or inexistent in our memories, unless they were damaging to us in some way.

As I have thought about some mistaken or ill-advised actions in my life, I have wondered with humility and gratitude about the harmless outcomes because the story of my life could very well have been different. What if, for example, something bad happened to me as I walked home from wherever I had gone on numerous late nights in a small Nigerian town ... at times too late for me to have been out alone on dark backstreets....walking home… alone… and vowing never to do that again, but repeating the same action the next day…and vowing again that I would never do that…all the while weaving for myself a web in which I had so quickly become tangled?

What, really, was the wisdom in me riding motorcycles at high speed as a teenager, without a helmet, even if at the time there was no law requiring the use of a helmet while riding a motorcycle?  In neither of these instances did I violate any law. Yet, in each instance, I knew what was right but chose a course of action that, on the face of it, was fun-packed but, in reality, could have been potentially deadly.  

Does the fact that these were deliberate actions change the reference to them as mistakes? No, because a mistake is by its very nature and definition a misguided or wrong action or judgment.  Does the fact that I suffered no physical harm in any of those cases negate the fact that I unnecessarily placed myself in dangerous situations? I suppose not.

I think that, except for anyone who wishes to claim perfection, most of us have had times in our lives when we did things that, with the benefit of hindsight, we are not proud that we did.  But what is the difference between those who escape mistaken acts unharmed and those who do not? How is it that some of us can get in and out of potentially dangerous situations while others remain in such situations in perpetuity; stuck in repetitive cycles of misery from which they look at a world that stays dark to them?  Why do we make decisions and take actions that imprison us in our own minds? Why do we choose to make friends that are bad for us while we reject people that could potentially add value to our lives? Of what value is a friendship in which there is no exchange of happiness and contentment? Really...of what use is a romantic relationship whose only reward is pain?  I do not expect to find much disagreement in stating that such relationships are worthless, that they are webs in which we get entangled and from which it can be immensely hard to break away unless one sets his/her mind to that goal. We know this; yet, we are constantly creating webs that we get trapped in.

This is true for individuals, for groups, families and nations. As individuals or as nations, we often get ourselves into financially tight corners because we choose to spend more than our means, forgetting the age-old belief of our elders that rainy days aren’t always so far removed from sunny days.  We forget, after all, that it is the same bright blue sky that also holds the clouds that are the precursors of thunderstorms and sometimes cause severe damage. Therefore, countries become debtor-nations, unable to care for the needs of their citizens; and individuals become unable to afford even their most basic needs because hard times can be overwhelming in their tendency to be merciless.  Debtor-nations continue to weave webs that take the form of more international borrowing, more corruption in the ranks of the political so-called elites and people close to them. It is always just a matter of time before the entire nation, including the innocent citizens, get caught up in the tangled webs woven by their leaders. Also, some individuals already traveling down the path of financial ruin, who are unable to pay their bills, continue to buy expensive items or find enough money to give to their pastors who sell unproven and tainted messages of hope rather than pay their bills with the money.  In some cases, individuals already in financial trouble still find ways to finance expensive clothing to attend the next big party. By so doing, a web is woven and the cycles of the web continue to multiply. Then, in due course, their family members, including innocent children, get encumbered and swallowed up in the web that was woven.

We spend valuable money, energy and time on unproductive endeavors without seeming to have any plans to assess our performance, redirect our focus if necessary, or engage in activities that would place our lives on a clearer, more result-oriented and positive trajectory.

Often, those of us who attain measures of success become trapped by, and in our consciousness of our accomplishments and forget how fleeting life really is. So, the web gets woven, not by anyone else but by us; not because we don’t love ourselves but sometimes because we love ourselves so much that our pride gets in our way of seeing the most important things of life. Therefore, we weave webs made up of material and other things that satisfy our bodies but diminish the value of our souls, not thinking that there could be an unpleasant price to pay when the satisfaction wears out. Even when we realize where we are and know that we need to step out of the webs that we have woven, our pride stops us because we wonder what others might think or say about us.  So we remain entangled. Sometimes we weave and remain entangled in our webs because we do not think hard enough. Instead, we suspend our thinking abilities or hand them over to other people who have convinced us that they know better than we know or have the power to save us from our imperfections because they are connected to a supernatural source.

Here is what I think: we often cannot get out of the webs that we create, largely because we were not supposed to create them in the first place.  I also think that, for as long as we are human, for so long will the tendency and opportunities exist to weave new webs. Getting entangled in those webs is the challenge to avoid.

Nigeria: Bent, Broken, And Still Home

I have just recently returned from a trip to Nigeria, the country of my birth….my homeland. Certainly, the famous Nigerian poet, John Pepper Clark, might well have been writing about the entire country when, in his poem about Africa’s third largest city, he described Ibadan as a “running splash of rust and gold flung and scattered among seven hills like broken China in the sun”. 

You see, I took a trip with my son to Nigeria a few years ago and we spent a few days in Ghana on our way to Nigeria where I was scheduled to present an academic paper at a conference occurring at the University of Port Harcourt.  The year prior, my daughter had visited Nigeria and Ghana and had returned home with incredible experiences from her time both in Nigeria where she spent 2 weeks staying and volunteering in an orphanage and in an elementary school in Ghana where she also volunteered as a teacher for 2 weeks. She again joined her mother and me for a few days on this recent trip to Nigeria.  My children have a love for Nigeria…indeed for Africa.

That was my son’s first trip to Africa as an adult and there are not sufficient words to describe the time that we had, nor are there enough words to describe the time that my wife, my daughter and I had during my most recent trip to Nigeria.

Back to my trip with my son a few years ago: He requested that we travel by road in Nigeria because, although it was a business trip for me, it was a heritage trip for him.  Therefore, for 2 days, starting from Lagos, we travelled just over 17 hours down the southeastern coast of Nigeria, stopping in multiple towns along the way.  In the process, we acquired experiences that I would not trade for a substitute. 

I did not bargain for what the trip would do for me, nor will I ever forget what it did.  Finding myself in a position to see Nigeria through the very objective eyes of my son, I realized for the first time in my life that my views about the country had always been based on a subjective premise...  But why not? After all, I was born and raised there.  That trip, however, put me in a position to see the blessings and contrasts of the country in full view. Just watching the women dart across the hectic, traffic-laden streets of Lagos carrying heavy items on their heads and children in tow that they would walk to school before going to sell their wares, seeing women selling food items on the roadside as we traveled -begging us to buy what they were selling to enable them feed their families... seeing school age children begging for alms in the streets of oil-rich Port Harcourt on a school day; seeing lazy police officers asking for and collecting bribes from travelers; and…from seeing the dark streets and homes across the country to seeing the bright lights of skyscrapers whenever there was electricity; from seeing the muddy rugged streets and highways unbefitting a giant nation like Nigeria to seeing the beautiful corn fields and greenery of the countryside landscapes....the beauty and ruggedness of Nigeria was on display. Flying back to Lagos from Port Harcourt, it was impossible not to behold in amazement the beautiful, clear skies that God placed over the parts of Nigeria that the plane flew over. 

That trip provided me a once in a lifetime opportunity not just to be alone with my adult son for an extended period, by which I actually mean a week, (a rarity in this “modern” world where we are both high-flying professionals), but also because it allowed me to see Nigeria through objective lens.  Of course, the signs of corruption and government inefficiency were everywhere, but there was much to admire in the spirits of the Nigerian people and the country’s blessings in the form of natural resources - all unfortunately taken for granted. The green leaves and grassland reminded me of the existence of life even in the face of trials and hardships such as now face millions of Nigerians.  The smiles and polite attitudes of so many were a good reminder of the goodness inherent in a Nigerian people who may well be described as a people as warm as the weather to which they are accustomed.  Although, by any sincere standards, the quality of some of the conference presentations was a stunning revelation of how far south the educational system had traveled from the high quality standards that I remembered…..well...that is another story for another time. 

Back to my recent trip. I am unable to recall any time when Lagos was as beautiful as I found it to be during this visit.  Driving through parts of Lagos at night felt sometimes as though one was driving through the streets of a Western country.  To be sure, I am not one who believes that Western countries are the gold standard for all things good.  However, I am also aware and sincere enough to acknowledge that, except for a few exceptions, African countries and cities are generally not good examples of organized systems – and that is putting it mildly…..and generously.  So, if the discussion is about aesthetics, structure and system efficiency, it would be delusional to suggest that African countries generally measure up.  They do not.

Having said that, I am aware that the beauty of Lagos should not be considered by me or anyone else as a reflection of the entire country.  I know of homes, schools, healthcare facilities, roads and other structures that exist in overwhelming states of disrepair across the country.  The consequences of such states of existence are often unquantifiable because suffering has no representation on any scale of measurement. 

So, I am not one who believes that the physical beauty of inanimate structures is an accurate measure of the quality of life of animate beings.  To that extent, the beauty of Lagos is by no means representative of the quality of life of most of the over 100 million people who live in Nigeria.  Lagos is very wealthy, beautiful and full of people – an educated class – blessed with the ability, courage and presence of mind to consistently elect dedicated leaders, each with a knack for service and commitment to the people and state that they govern.  While Lagos is developing impressively and shining as Nigeria’s “golden state”, much (though, perhaps those who know better than I would say all) of the rest of Nigeria wallow in rust created and maintained by their political leadership; leadership that is created, emboldened and sustained by weak, dishonest and short-sighted voters who only care about their own stomachs at the outset but then complain ceaselessly after getting ditched by the governments that they installed with their votes.

Nigeria may not be impeccable, but no country is.  Nigerians have a tendency to emphasize the country’s rust while ignoring the potential gold that also lies within the country.  Nigeria may be comparable to a wreck but in that wreck live many people with beautiful souls, children too innocent to deserve to be victims of the cruel machinations of the adult leaders who caused the wreckage in which those children must live and grow up.  

We need a better Nigeria.  Africa needs that; the world needs that.  However, for Nigeria to move to a better place among the world’s best nations to live in, Nigerians must do the work of transforming rust into mostly gold.  That process would have to start with the transformation of Nigerian hearts and minds. For that to occur, more Nigerians than not must accept that most of Nigeria’s problems were created by Nigerians and must be solved by Nigerians who are willing and able to look inward for potential solutions.  Also, Nigerians must shun the tribalistic urge that often sends them into defensive postures on behalf of the thieves that suck their country dry.  Nigerians must be willing to report the thieves among them for prosecution by legal authorities.  Unfortunately, legal authorities in Nigeria, as in much or all of Africa, require extensive sanitization due to their role in fostering corruption and other crimes.  Yet, those authorities are needed to do the work that is expected of them if Nigeria is to be truly transformed. Nigeria’s problems can only be solved by Nigerians. The fields are green, the tools are all around us ready to be picked up and it is time for all Nigerians to begin to perceive of themselves as the laborers who must pick up those tools and embrace the call to refine themselves and transform their country.  The power to change our native land is in our hands, and so is the responsibility to use that power.  To the extent that that responsibility is ours, it is we who must change.  Nigeria cannot change without her sons and daughters.  We are the ones who must change ourselves and recognize that a country does not exist without its people.  To that extent, a country cannot change itself, let alone one with systems as damaged as Nigeria has; one with so many unwilling, unpatriotic and negatively enabling citizens.  For Nigeria to change, its citizens must change. This is how I see it.

Today, I Live ...And I Am Grateful

I have just marked a birthday!  At no time in my adulthood have I considered my birthday as party time. For many years in my adulthood, it was just a time of gratitude and reflection.  Now, it is more than that.  It is also now a time of recommitment to the responsibilities that the incredible circumstances of my life confer on me. It is a time of rededication to my spiritual journey, realizing that not everything will be palatable to me but everything is uniquely placed to make my life’s journey exactly as it was predestined. 

I am currently in a place that I always thought would be scary and somewhat unnerving to be at: that place from which one can look back and see how far one has traveled...a place from which one can look forward and realize that the better part of the journey has been completed. 

At my current age, I cannot get back the time that has passed - those times when I didn’t do what I should have done; times when I should have made those phone calls that I didn’t make; times when I didn’t make the choices that I should have made; times when I did not move to do something because I either thought I had plenty of time left or believed that I wasn’t yet in the prefect position to act...times when I kept silent when I should have spoken up. 

What about those times when someone that I saw frequently just faded away and I did not try to find him/her because I wasn’t paying attention - or because he/she wasn’t someone that I had any interaction with?  Or times when a peer stopped coming to class and I didn’t try to reach out to the peer? Or times when someone just stopped coming to church and I didn’t know why and didn’t ask what happened?

Could it just be that these are trivial things? Am I giving life and oversized shoulders to insignificant imaginations or am I just reminiscing because the final destination of my life is now closer than when and where my journey began?

I don’t know but...should it matter that these are the things I am thinking about instead of being the guest of honor at my own birthday bash?  Maybe not...but to me it matters because I feel a strong sense of responsibility to leave my imprint in this beautiful world that I have been blessed to inhabit for as long as I have. 

With wars, famine, corruption, ill-health, racism, religious persecution, heterosexism, gender discrimination, poverty, inequality and social injustice all around us, it would be easy for me to close my eyes or bury my head in the sand but my sense of humanity and spirituality lays on my shoulders a responsibility to love my neighbors as myself, to rise, to write, to speak and, even more, to act in the hope that, perhaps, just perhaps, I can through my actions create a ripple such as Julia Abigail Fletcher Carning meant when she wrote the words of her 19th Century famed hymnal:

Little drops of water 

Little grains of sand

Make the mighty ocean

And the beauteous land

The Long, Arduous Trek To Social Justice

Recently, I stumbled on my first-ever published work, South Africa’s Bondage Ties Us All.  Written and published in a local newspaper in 1989, I argued in that short article that none of us was truly free for as long as South African Blacks remained subjected to the bondage of apartheid. 

When I wrote that article, South Africa was paramount in my mind.  I had become increasingly bothered by the fact that leaders of countries were paying lip service to the concept of freedom as they promoted that idea around the world while actively helping the South African government to sustain its apartheid policy.  I was also angered by the fact that some preachers of my faith were boldly saying on Christian television that South Africa's apartheid regime was God's will and that black South Africans were the cause of their own oppression.  In retrospect, I feel that in my disappointment and intense desire for change in South Africa, I did not look beyond the plight of black people in South Africa to consider the potential that so many in our world would still be subjected to so many forms of social injustice long after Blacks in South Africa became free.  However, I recall that I looked sufficiently far back in history and knew enough about oppressed groups to be able to say in that article that it would only be a question of time before the black people of South Africa became free because oppression in that form was hardly sustainable in an increasingly connected world. 

Well, South African Blacks did become free but injustice continues to survive in increasingly diverse forms around the world.  Also, its varied complexion and multiplicity of forms now make it more difficult to hope for a world devoid of injustice.  That would be a world in which we all recognize that we are not truly free when some of our brothers and sisters are in chains; a world in which some among us do not have to prove themselves to be accepted just because of their pigmentation; a world in which people who possess the same credentials and perform comparable tasks are remunerated equally despite their gender; a world in which people are not judged and condemned because of who they love; a world in which people's freedom of movement is not curtailed just because of what they look like; a world in which people are not profiled for punishment just because they do not come from the dominant socioeconomic class or culture; a world in which we accept our responsibility to care for the sick among us rather than subject that responsibility to heartless political debates; a world in which all are truly equal in the application of law just as we all are in the eyes of God.  Simply, that is the world that we need but it is not the world that we have – and the chances that we will ever have such a world are increasingly diminishing by the day.  We should never claim to live in a just society (or world) if any among us remains a victim of social injustice. 

       

I am inclined to believe that our world will get better because more and more of us will embrace and work for social justice.  Yet, even if I had a crystal ball, I would still consider it foolhardy to make such a pronouncement.  Instead, here is what I can say for sure: The trek toward social justice is long, difficult and sometimes a hopeless journey but there is no guarantee that the destination can ever be reached.  I believe, however, that we can make this a more just world if each of us plays his/her part.  It would require that we join our hearts and hands, raise our voices on behalf of the voiceless, march against injustice on behalf of ourselves and those who cannot march on their own behalf, and lift those in our midst who need a helping hand.  If we give hope to the hopeless, help to the helpless, water to the thirsty, food to the hungry, empower the powerless and not only talk but live the gospel of social justice, then we make it possible for ourselves and those who come after us to hope for a world in which we can convincingly say and believe, as Dr. Martin Luther King did, that “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice”.  

The Ghosts of Our Fathers

As a young man, I thought that the idea that our actions out-lived us and were capable of potentially impacting the people and society that we left behind was uniquely African.  Then I read Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar at age 14 and knew instantly that the words of Mark Antony's speech at Caeser’s funeral might never leave me.  To this day, I see images of Mark Antony standing before the audience and expressing as follows:

Friends, Romans, countrymen

Lend me your ears

I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. 

The evil that men do lives after them; 

The good is oft interred with their bones;  

So let it be with Caesar.

Certainly, the meaning of these words continue to play out daily in the lives of men and women, as good deeds are often forgotten in man's insatiable appetite to glorify self and praise his/her benefactor for today's gifts while wasting no time to verbally assault the name of the same benefactor for tomorrow's inability to provide.  To me. however, Mark Antony's words on that fateful day were, and remain a lesson that the idea of life's continuation beyond death is not uniquely African.  Had I not learned this lesson at that age, I would have had to learn it at my father's funeral service many years later when the preacher declared: "Venerable Archdeacon Jonathan Oni Eseleh lived a life of righteousness and will forever be an example for all of us.  He lived his life helping others and serving His maker with humility and grace".  Then, echoing Ezekiel 18 verse 2, the preacher continued; "Therefore, it will never be said of his children that "...The fathers have eaten sour grapes, and the children's teeth are set on edge".  Here in a religion older than Julius Caeser was an acknowledgment of the potential impact of our actions on our children even long after we are gone. Well, I was not expecting any more of this lesson when I chose to become a psychotherapist.  So, needless to say that I was pleasantly surprised to learn as a graduate student, that solidly grounded in research and practice knowledge was a very sound articulation of the position of multi-generational processes in human development, behavior, treatment and wellness.

If we take the time to look very closely around the world, we can see the impact of the works of our fathers on the societies that they left behind.  Leaders and citizens of successful societies always maintain a consciousness of history and do their best to stay close to the foundations and guiding principles laid by their founding fathers.  They are grateful for the sacrifices of those who came before them and lead as if they are guided by the ghosts of those fathers to maintain a sense of responsibility and diligence to the paths paved by history.  In such societies, individuals and groups anchor their sense of pride on an identity carved and projected by their understanding and belief in a living history that was built and preserved by selfless visionaries who understood that they were called to a purpose greater than themselves.  An immoral and distasteful leader may arise at some point in the life course of such a society but then another leader soon comes who rights the course toward history's trajectory as envisioned by the fathers long gone

In unsuccessful and struggling societies, on the other hand, history is destroyed rather than preserved, shunned rather than embraced, and relegated rather than elevated.  Also, the role of culture and tradition is in some cases disregarded in favor of what is thought to be modern, however alien.  In such societies, the young have no knowledge of the depth of their society's history because those who should teach them have abandoned their roles.  In their quest either for survival or fame, those who ought to protect and pass along the memories of service and respectability that their societies' fathers represented embark on the dangerous course of ignoring the ghosts of their fathers.  Yet, the evidence is all around us that individuals and societies that ignore history wander aimlessly, often blind to the fact that others can see through the hollowness of their momentary trappings of success.  

As individuals, most of us know the circumstances of our societies and are aware of how far we have veered from or stayed close to the lessons of history as crafted and delivered to us by our fathers. When we succeed in suppressing our consciences, ignore the ghosts of our fathers and act as if we gained no knowledge from the lessons of history, we fail in our responsibility to make the world a better place for our own descendants.  This is a very bad thing.   

The Collapse Of Common Sense

I was only about 13 years old when one of my teachers, an old man who had been a politician in his prior life, wondered aloud if open-book examinations had any value.  “There will always be people who can never find the answers to questions asked, even if you help them open the book to the page where the answers are.  Common sense", he said, "is not common".  If it were, everyone would have it but not everyone does.  At the time, the comment seemed like nothing more than a gibe at the types of students that can often be found in classrooms in every society: those students who not strongly endowed academically; those who stay up at night and fall asleep in the classroom during the day; and those for whom education does not rise beyond a secondary priority.  To a young religious mind, the comment also felt to me like hyperbole because I was convinced that everyone was endowed with common sense, which simply means the ability to exercise sound judgment.

If I could turn back the clock and be 13 again, I would pray to God for courage to be able to request my teacher to meet privately with me in a society where teachers were considered so powerful that even the meekest of them radiated what felt like an intimidating presence.  With my request for courage granted, I would ask my teacher to expand on his comment about common sense.  I would ask him to educate me about the role of common sense in building and sustaining a society and people.  I would ask him how one would know that common sense was lacking in anyone or any environment.  Finally, I would ask if he had a crystal ball into which he could look and tell me what would become of a society and world in the event of a widespread collapse of common sense.     

Well, none of that matters now.  I am probably now around the age where my teacher was when I was 13.  To the extent that age confers the privilege of, and opportunity for the kind of wisdom that lived experiences make possible, I am now in a vantage position from which I can see the world in ways that I could not at age 13.  Now, I see a world in which people vote against their own self-interest; a world in which the down-trodden applaud, celebrate, defend and protect their oppressors; and a world in which people who have never themselves fought (and will never personally fight) beat the drums for war while those who have everything (including their lives) to lose dance to the drumbeat at the command of so-called leaders who will not miss a meal in mourning when the battle is joined.  I see a world in which pastors would rather purchase private jets on the backs of indigent members of their congregations while the latter still follow them as if their salvation rests on man.  I see a world in which pastors build and claim to own universities where they set the cost of attendance so high that the church members whose money built the universities cannot afford to send their children there.  Yet, those members continue to attend those churches and continue to give money to the men and women who tell them tales that make them empty their pockets.  I see a world in which religious adherents allow themselves to be turned into suicide bombers while the leaders who send them to perpetrate such hate against others and themselves continue to live, sometimes in the lap of luxury.  I see a world in which historically exalted offices have been debased by the corrupt, arrogant and selfish instincts of individuals whose supporters shamelessly continue to applaud, make excuses and blame others for every irresponsible behavior that common sense would otherwise prevail on them to condemn.  I see a world where too many things no longer make sense.

We have become a world in which what common sense once prescribed as right is now considered a loser because too many of us have foreclosed on conscience and outsourced our common sense either to the highest bidders or to sweet talkers with no records of accomplishment beyond personal gain.   We have become a world that cherishes the easy way out instead of the right way out.  Common sense requires that we love rather than hate, that we collaborate rather than obstruct, that we tell the truth rather than intentionally mislead others who depend on us to be reasonable.  Common sense requires that we do the work that is needed to make our world a better place rather than retard the progress that had been made by others.  It requires that we stand for what is right rather than applaud evil perpetrated from high and low places, and that we look out for our neighbors even if we may not like them.  Common sense lays the foundation on which communities and nations are built.  A society, country or world in which common sense is doomed is one that is destined for ignominious failure.  We may not be there yet but the clock is ticking and we each have a responsibility to play our part in righting the course and averting the complete collapse of common sense in our lives, our communities and our world.  

      

WHEN THE PROTAGONIST IS EXCUSED FROM RESPONSIBILITY

The world is in trouble!  There is no way to sugar coat or overstate the reality.  Put otherwise, it would be a lie - and we are taught that it is immoral to lie.  Pick any Continent and a careful  look at one or two countries in that Continent provides an open window into the state of that Continent and, by extension, the state of our world.  Starting with North America, the United States of America has as President a petulant being in the physical body of an adult male.  In Europe, the United Kingdom is popping at the seams, since the country has been exposed as a pretentious, ideas-deprived, hypocritical and xenophobic nation.  That exposure came as a surprise to most people in the U.K. largely because the country’s leaders, like too many of those that they lead, seemed to have been too self-absorbed to know that not only is the world now interconnected but that the arrogant claim that the sun could never set on the British Empire is now quaint and no longer holds sway.  But the UK is only one of numerous self-injured countries in Europe that are struggling to stay afloat in an increasingly crazy world. 

Except for a tiny few, all African countries are in tatters, riddled by a long record of leaders who have consistently looted the treasuries of their countries while keeping the poor and middle class oppressed and hungry.  This is the story of Nigeria and the story that South Africa is writing about herself.  In fact, this is the dominant story of Africa’s sociopolitical and economic history.  In Australia, the Aborigines who were dispossessed of their land are treated as inferior humans in their own homeland by the same people who stole their country from them; the same people who now perceive of undocumented immigrants as worthless criminals deserving of inhumane treatment.  South America is replete with banana republics, thanks to decades of irresponsible leadership.  A country as rich in oil as Venezuela has been brought to its knees by decades of terrible leadership coated in dangerous rhetoric and a political ideology that was never a fit for the country.   In Asia, North Korea is led by a man-boy who seems to perceive of the world as the playground for whatever evil machinations can take residence in his mind.      

To the extent that a protagonist is the central figure in a factual story, a national political leader is a protagonist in the writing and telling of the story of the country and people that he/she is in office to represent.  To the extent that a protagonist is also supposed to be the champion of a cause, political leaders are supposed to champion the cause of progress for their countries and fellow citizens.  Unfortunately, the world is currently chock-full of leaders whose abilities are limited only to writing and telling stories that debase humanity.  Equally bad is the fact that most of the world’s leaders are champions only of themselves, their families and a few sycophants that could not survive otherwise.

The fact that our world has been shattered by an incredible amount of selfish and irresponsible political leaders is not in doubt.  But society’s complicity in this crime should also not be in doubt.  In every situation where national leaders have failed (and are failing) their countries, there have always been too many people helping to prop them up.  How oppressed citizens, foreign institutions, the wealthy and religious leaders wittingly and unwittingly connive to maintain destructive protagonists in position is a reality that defies reasonable explanation.  Yet, that is now the mix that provides cover for failed protagonists.  As a consequence, political leaders can do anything they please, however immoral, and they get away with it because the people who defend them will always do so even at the expense of their own integrity.  For as long as that cover remains to excuse political leaders from the consequences of their actions, for so long will our world remain in trouble.  If you ask me, the clouds are only thickening.