“Akɛ Gbele Naa Mɔ”
The death of an opponent is neither a scorecard nor a reason for celebration, triumph, or victory procession. Some may view it as an unexpected turn of events that shifts the balance in their favor, but death secures no true victory. It is not a strategy, nor is it a trump card that guarantees success. Rather, it is a solemn reminder of the one reality that confronts every human being. The next moment is never guaranteed, and life can change in the blink of an eye.
As long as there is no virgin in the labour or maternity ward, no one can escape death. From the newborn child to the oldest elder, death remains the one appointment common to all humanity. As the proverb says, “Death does not knock only at the door of the old; it visits every house.” Therefore, let no one boast in pride or mock another’s fate, for the journey of life is uncertain and mortality is the destiny of all.
Death is unpredictable and inevitable. The graveyard is filled with people who once thought they had more time. From the day we are born, we begin a journey whose destination is certain, though its timing remains unknown. No one is exempt. The rich and the poor, the powerful and the weak, the famous and the unknown all stand equal before death.
The good die, and the bad die. Children die, and pastors die. Kings die, and commoners die. Death does not discriminate on the basis of status, character, wealth, influence, or achievement.
An old African adage teaches that “When death comes, it takes neither bribe nor excuse.” Another wisely reminds us that “No one is so great that death cannot find him, and no one is so small that death will overlook him.”
For this reason, the death of an adversary should never be regarded as a victory or a trophy to be celebrated. Those who rejoice at the passing of others often forget that mortality is a shared human condition. Today it may be another person; tomorrow it could be any one of us.
Indeed, it is worth remembering that some among those celebrating today may arrive at their own graves before the one whose death they mock is even laid to rest. Life offers no guarantees and follows no human timetable. As Scripture reminds us, “The first shall be last, and the last first.”
The Akan proverb says, “When your neighbour’s beard catches fire, fetch water for your own.” The misfortune of others should serve as a lesson, not an occasion for mockery. Likewise, Ga wisdom teaches that “the path to the cemetery is never overgrown,” reminding us that every generation eventually walks the same road.
Rather than celebrating the death of others, we should allow it to humble us. It should remind us of our common humanity, encourage compassion, inspire reconciliation, and challenge us to live meaningful lives marked by wisdom, dignity, and respect for one another.
Death is not a winner’s prize, nor is it a trump card. It is life’s greatest equalizer and a reminder that our true legacy lies not in the downfall of others, but in the good we leave behind. Let us therefore live uprightly, so that when our time comes, our departure will be mourned with genuine sorrow rather than greeted with relief by those we have wronged.
For, as the elders say, “A good name is better than riches, for riches remain behind, but a good name walks with you even after death.”
In the end, death does not prove who was right, stronger, richer, or more powerful. It only reminds us that we are all travellers on the same road, destined for the same destination. Wisdom, therefore, lies not in celebrating another person’s end, but in preparing honourably for our own.
