Walking within Blantyre Mission grounds several years ago, I came across a team of boys playing. One after another they would take a sprint, step on a rectangular concrete block, launch themselves into the air and perform a forward somersault before landing on a cushion of cut grass conveniently placed on the other side of the concrete block.
From the look of things, these boys were having great fun. They made me feel nostalgic about my own youthful days, when energy to do God-knew-what was in abundant supply. In one’s youth every part of the body optimally performs its function, which is why the wisdom writer said, “Remember now thy Creator, in the days of thy youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them.”
This verse from Ecclesiastes does not even begin to suggest that old people are useless. On the contrary, the elderly are what the young people need for direction and for provision of remedies when things go wrong, as they often will. The boys I saw having fun looked like they did not need any senior person among them. It would only take one of them performing the somersault wrongly and landing on his head or his neck instead of his feet. At that moment, none of his friends would be helpful and they would need to call in a senior person.
As a boy at Nkhoma Mission, I, with a number other boys, one day went out to play at the residence of the Nkhoma Congregation Pastor, who at that time was Rev. D. C. Kamphinda. Playing on the verandah, I noticed a slasher, which I picked up and, in my youthful enthusiasm, decided to sharpen it on a stone sitting next to the edge of the verandah. I leaned myself with all my might against the stone as I sharpened the slasher and in the process, the stone rolled over the edge, landing on the ground some two metres below. No sooner had the stone landed than I followed it, landing on my left arm.
Both bones in my lower left arm (the ulna and the radius) broke instantly, instantly deforming and shortening the arm. My friends scampered in all directions when they saw my deformed arm. I did not feel any pain but, because I was terrified and deserted, I cried audibly as I made my way to the Synod Office, where my father worked. My father quickly bundled me into his car and drove me to the hospital where I received medical attention.
Someone once said, “Young people who go out to set the world on fire often come back home for more matches.” There are too many things that can go awfully wrong in this world of ours. Youthful enthusiasm blurs this truth to young people. And when things do go terribly wrong, they (the young people, that is) come back to their senses, remember the older folks and try to seek their assistance.
When I was living at Chinyonga, my son, then four or five years old, one day went out to visit a friend in the neighbourhood. As they were playing at the friend’s place, my son fell off an ornamental cliff and broke his tooth. Play instantly halted. He was helped to get home. When his brother saw him he was so alarmed by the state the latter was in that he asked for a phone from our immediate neighbor and called to inform me that his brother had been badly hurt. We had to rush him to the dentist to get his tooth sorted out.
Young people, you do well to go out with the aim of setting the world on fire. It is part of the learning process. You will soon realize that the world is not as “inflammable” as you initially imagined. Despite your best effort, things will not happen nearly as quickly as you would want them to. All your matches will run out. What is more, you may emerge from the exercise bruised. When that happens you will come to your senses and remember that there is somebody who has a constant supply of matches and is able to bind bruises, namely the elderly in society. Once upon a time, they also tried to set the world on fire and, having failed, learnt valuable lessons. From the bounty of their lessons they will assist you.
I urge all young people to search within their attitudes and goals and convince themselves that they leave enough room for the elderly to give them direction.