By William Z. Bozimo
IN every civilization, the elders are the living libraries, the walking archives of memory, and the custodians of wisdom gathered from storms survived and seasons endured. They are the bridges between yesterday and tomorrow, between the stubborn truth of history and the fragile hope of the youth. But today, too many elders sit in silence.
Some have been bought by comfort, their wisdom traded for pensions and patronage. Others are chained by fear, remembering what the state did to those who dared to speak too loudly. Still others are drowned out by the endless noise of a generation that scrolls faster than it listens. A society where the elders stop speaking is a society where the youth inherit echoes instead of guidance.
They stumble through the same mistakes their fathers made, building houses on the same sinking sands, and fighting wars whose futility should have been lessons, not legacies. Silence, in this sense, is not golden, it is dangerous. Our history teaches us that when elders conversed, kingdoms shifted. A proverb could halt a war. A tale by the fireside could teach a child loyalty, courage and restraint.
But when that voice is absent, the gap is often filled by entertainers, propagandists, and charlatans who claim to have wisdom without ever experiencing the harsh realities of life and situations that make them authorities in certain aspects. The result is chaos dressed as culture, and ignorance sold as innovation. What is the worth of longevity if it produces no testimony?
What is the significance of having white hair if it brings no counsel? The wrinkle on the elder’s face is not just a marker of age; it is a line of scripture written by life itself. To hoard it in silence is to deny the nation its scripture. Yet, the burden is not only on the elders. The youth, too, must learn again to listen because even the greatest griot is useless if no one bends an ear.
The bridge cannot stand if one side refuses to cross. Let the elders speak again without fear, without any price, and without the temptation to flatter power. Let the youth demand their voices, not in nostalgia but in necessity. The people who silence their elders are often those who choose blindness, walking into the future with no lantern but arrogance.
The day the elders stop speaking is the day a nation begins to forget itself. And a nation that often forgets itself does not need enemies because someday, it will devour itself. May the ignorance of individuals not engulf them.
*William Z. Bozimo
Veteran Journalist | Columnist | National Memory Keeper
