What a tragic irony of human existence: we behave as though we own what we have merely borrowed. We accumulate wealth as if we will live forever, exercise power as though we are gods and plunder public resources as though the nation belongs exclusively to us and our families.
Yet, at the end of life’s journey, every one of us must surrender the one thing we never truly owned—life itself.
Life is a loan. Breath is a privilege. Time is temporary. No one has the power to negotiate with death.
This reality should be enough to humble the most powerful politician, the wealthiest businessperson and the most influential religious leader. Unfortunately, the opposite often appears to be the case. The more power and wealth some people acquire, the more they behave as though they are untouchable.
In Nigeria, this dangerous mentality has become particularly disturbing. Public resources meant to improve the lives of millions are allegedly diverted, mismanaged or squandered while ordinary citizens contend with hunger, unemployment, insecurity, kidnapping, banditry and the rising cost of living.
Millions cannot afford decent healthcare. Many families struggle to feed themselves. Young people search endlessly for employment and meaningful opportunities. Parents sacrifice everything to educate their children, while some privileged Nigerians send theirs abroad and travel overseas for medical treatment.
Meanwhile, the resources that should strengthen our hospitals, schools, roads, security institutions and economy remain at the centre of political disputes, corruption allegations and extravagant spending.
What exactly are we building—and for whom?
What is the value of billions accumulated through questionable means when the person who acquired them can be summoned from this world without warning?
Can stolen public funds buy immortality?
Can political influence command death to wait?
Can billions purchase one more breath when the Almighty decides that a borrowed life has reached its end?
No.
When that moment comes, the mansion cannot answer. The convoy cannot answer. The private jet cannot answer. The bank account cannot answer. Political connections cannot answer.
The Owner of life does not negotiate.
That is the uncomfortable truth many people deliberately avoid.
You may spend millions maintaining your body. You may employ personal doctors, eat the most expensive food, visit the world’s finest hospitals and surround yourself with every imaginable luxury. Ultimately, however, the human body is temporary. The body that receives so much attention today will one day return to the earth.
So, what are we really chasing?
Luxury? Power? Fame? Political appointments? Billions? Influence?
If acquiring these things requires destroying the lives of others, stealing from the public, oppressing vulnerable people and denying millions the opportunity to live with dignity, what have we truly gained?
Nothing lasts forever.
The tragedy is that some leaders appear more concerned with securing their comfort than protecting the future of the people they govern. They can afford quality healthcare abroad while ordinary Nigerians die from preventable illnesses. They educate their children at prestigious institutions overseas while millions of Nigerian children attend poorly equipped schools. They enjoy extensive security while ordinary citizens live in fear of kidnappers, bandits and other criminals.
This is not merely a political failure; it is a moral failure.
Leadership should be about service, not self-enrichment. Public office should be treated as a sacred trust, not a personal investment opportunity. The national treasury must never become a feeding trough for the politically connected.
This message, however, is not directed at politicians alone.
Every one of us must examine ourselves.
We live in an age in which material possessions are increasingly treated as the ultimate evidence of success. People measure their importance by the size of their houses, cars, bank accounts and social influence. Even religion has not escaped this obsession with materialism.
There is nothing inherently wrong with prosperity. The problem begins when material wealth becomes more important than character, humanity and accountability.
It is equally important to understand that practising religion is not necessarily the same as knowing God. A person can occupy a religious position, participate in ceremonies and proclaim faith publicly while lacking compassion, honesty and genuine reverence for the Creator.
If our religion does not make us more compassionate, honest, responsible and concerned about the suffering of others, we must ask ourselves what exactly we are practising.
Nigeria does not merely need more religious ceremonies. It needs more integrity.
It needs leaders who understand that power is temporary.
It needs citizens who refuse to celebrate corruption simply because they benefit from it.
It needs a society that stops glorifying questionable wealth and begins celebrating honesty, service and good character.
Most importantly, we must remember that we are all temporary occupants of this earth.
We came into the world with nothing. We will leave without our houses, cars, political offices, certificates, bank accounts or possessions.
The money we fought so hard to accumulate will remain behind. The properties we acquired will be inherited by others. The positions we occupied will eventually be filled by someone else.
The body we spent a lifetime pampering will return to the dust.
That is the great equaliser.
Death does not recognise political parties. It does not respect wealth. It is unmoved by titles, connections, ethnicity or social status.
When the time comes, the king and the servant must confront the same reality.
Therefore, while we are still alive, let us do better.
Let those in power stop treating Nigeria’s commonwealth as private property. Let those blessed with wealth remember the suffering around them. Let religious leaders preach character, compassion and salvation alongside prosperity. Let citizens stop defending wrongdoing simply because they receive crumbs from the tables of the powerful.
Let us choose humanity over greed, service over selfishness and integrity over corruption.
The question is not whether we will leave this world.
We will.
The real question is: what will we leave behind when we go?
Will it be a legacy of corruption and oppression?
Or will it be a legacy of compassion, service, integrity and humanity?
Life is borrowed.
We own nothing—not even tomorrow.
When the Owner of life comes for what He lent us, no amount of money, power, influence or political connection will be enough to stop Him.
Therefore, while we still have breath, let us live like human beings—not gods.
Written by Festus Edovia, ANIPR, FICM
