Kissing Poverty Goodbye: A Vow I Must Keep...

By edentu OROSO

I made a solemn vow this morning, one I must keep, no matter the odds. To hell with poverty. It’s a jinx I must break in my lineage. A heritage of wretchedness is not something I can tolerate any longer. Not at all.

Poverty is a curse, deadlier than the greatest scourge. It kills subtly. It wastes its victims quietly, yet thoroughly. At times, it strikes like a shrill drum in a crowded market square, deafening all ears with its ominous rhythms.

No wonder I made that vow today, to confront this soul reaper head-on. Poverty has had a firm grip on my lineage for far too long. It has stolen the breath of too many great souls for lack of the means for proper medical care. Someone must stand up, must dare this ever-reaping monster. Someone must brace up, take the gauntlet with resolve, and go the route of inspired risks to call poverty’s bluff.

No, we all can’t remain pawns in poverty’s cruel game. We can’t keep dying untimely deaths just because our forebears couldn’t break the jinx, or because we ourselves have failed to pull off the hood of affliction from our heads.

I’ve lost countless kith and kin to poverty’s scythe. And today, it struck again. A nephew, in his 40s, gone. And the most painful part? He could have survived. He had every chance. A mere ₦80,000 could have made the difference. But no, it was out of reach, or so it seemed, in a lineage full of vibrant, capable souls.

Is there a greater tragedy than this?

I’m still trying to grasp the full weight of this disease. But I’ve resolved, I won’t be a hostage to this suffocating heritage. I refuse to be silenced or intimidated by the brutal grip of poverty. I accept this challenge with gusto. I won’t be your victim, poverty. You won’t reap my soul in any guise.

I refuse to follow the same sad path as my forebears, siblings, and step-siblings. If I’ve been asleep all this while, lulled by poverty’s whirlwinds, then now I’m awake. I’ll turn its swift sails in my favour. I won’t leave this stage unsung. My cenotaph will not be inscribed with the ink of wretchedness. No. Never.

Last year, I lost my elder step-sibling, the second eldest in our family. His battle? Diabetes. The killer? Lack of proper medical care. The culprit? Money.

Two years ago, we lost the eldest of my father’s children. Prostate cancer took him. A death sentence? Not by modern medical standards. He too could have been saved, if only the means had been there. But they weren’t. His children and the extended family simply couldn’t foot the bills.

His beloved wife followed a year later. The reason? Unpaid medical bills and improper treatment.

Should this be the norm in a robust lineage? Never.

That’s why I refuse to accept it any longer. With every ounce of energy in me, I’ll rise above this gnawing challenge. I will not be a victim. That’s a forgone conclusion.

Poverty, you may have defeated my ancestors in inexplicable ways, but I’m a freight train on a mission. You can’t stop my glide. You can’t halt my ride. With the right mindset and the tools of our time, I’ll arrive at my financial destiny.

My nephew’s passing yesterday, and the earlier losses of my elder step-siblings, gave me deep cause for reflection.

While my elder step-siblings lived morally sound and responsible lives, I cannot say the same for my nephew. His illness, in all honesty, was self-induced—a fatal cocktail of marijuana and crystal meth (ice). Ice is even more lethal than marijuana. We cannot be reckless with life and expect its blessings. No; two things cannot occupy the same space.

There are undeniable lessons here for us who still live. Life is not a game of checkers. We get only one shot at it. Live it to the fullest, or lose it through reckless abandon.

We cannot continue with spendthrift lifestyles either. What we don’t save today won’t be there for tomorrow’s emergencies. That fact hit me hard yesterday. It all comes down to planning one’s life—meticulously. Financial intelligence and deliberate planning are among the keys to fulfilling destiny.

You might ask, where is God in all of this? The truth is, God won’t do for you what you must do for yourself. He’s already given you everything, in heaven and on earth. How you use them is entirely up to you.

Equally important is our commitment to avoiding unhealthy eating, drinking, and smoking habits. These are silent killers, more lethal than any bullet.

Death comes in many shades. Its timing? Unpredictable. That’s true. And yes, we will all depart this world at some point—no one escapes that reality. But while we still draw breath, we must ensure we don’t become liabilities to ourselves or society.

We must fine-tune the machinery of our lives with utmost care and financial prudence. I say this first to myself. Because when the chips are down, it’s every man to himself.

This is not a call for radical individualism in a communal culture. I know, in the African cosmology, life is communal. But this is the reality of the world we now live in. Nobody owes you anything.

You owe it to yourself to be better than your forebears. Better than your parents. Better than your siblings. You owe it to yourself to be financially free, legitimately, so that you can be a blessing to others in their time of need.

Poverty is a curse. Resist it with everything you’ve got.

As for me, I’ve made my vow: I will never die poor, in mind or in means. And if I must seek wealth, it must be through honest means. There are countless paths to legitimate riches, just as there are to stolen ones. But let me be clear: the former brings peace and fulfillment; the latter destroys in the end.

Embrace life. Be prosperous. And don’t get caught in its many warps.