Tragedy. Noun. 1. An event causing great suffering, destruction and distress, such as a serious accident, crime, or natural catastrophe 2. A play dealing with tragic events or having a sad or disastrous ending brought about by fate, moral weakness in a character, etc.
About three years ago I received a document from John Edmund Haggai, the founder of Haggai Institute, which was sent to all alumni around the world. It was titled “The Tragedy of the Unfinished” and sought to remind recipients not to slack in their commitment to striving daily to ensure that they achieved all the high and lofty goals they had set while undergoing training at the Institute. Mr. Haggai gave several examples of uncompleted tasks and abandoned projects, including Schubert’s aptly titled “Unfinished Symphony”, and Britain’s premature withdrawal from the Dardanelles during World War I. Britain had attacked, hoping to force open the strait which had been closed by Turkey, but had withdrawn after Turkey sank three British ships. It turned out that Turkey was practically on its last round of ammunition at the moment Britain withdrew, and continuing their bombardment for only 60 minutes more would have resulted in victory for the Allies.
Why is the unfinished so tragic? For one, it seems to be unnatural. That is, nature seems to abhor the unfinished, just like it does a vacuum. Things don’t get suspended in nature; rather, designs are whole and cycles always completed. Just think of the cycles operating to regulate the various functions in the human body, or even the weather. Blood flow within the body is a complete cycle. Also, if the sun rises, it will certainly set – only to rise again. Moreover, these natural processes are timed, such that one sunrise to another spans roughly the same amount of time; its duration is not determined by whims and caprices. The unfinished thus leads to the disruption of regularity within the system, blocks the emergence of patterns, thereby engendering chaos, and normally has disastrous consequences for all concerned.
One can then imagine how so truly tragic a situation would be when the unfinished becomes a way of life and the normal order for the conduct of a people’s affairs. I recall Dr. Ali Mazrui in his documentary, The Africans: A Triple Heritage, stating that the African landscape was littered with numerous “white elephants”, abandoned projects bearing eloquent testimony to the ineptitude of successive governments on the continent. Nigeria has a large share of that inglorious reputation, for our cities and villages, and even campuses of our tertiary institutions, are dotted with abandoned projects. For example, travellers passing by Ikire in the south-western part of Nigeria will see the abandoned “Shagari houses” as well as the “ultra-modern” hospital which was to serve the people of that locality. And does anybody remember how long we’ve been at repairing and upgrading the Lagos-Ibadan expressway? How about the provision of electricity? It would appear as if the output in terms of megawatts is inversely proportional to the amount of money spent on the project: the more they spend, the less we see.
Why have we fallen into this terrible state of the unfinished? One could point first and foremost to the insincerity behind the desire to be seen as doing something for the people, rather than a genuine interest in finding real and lasting solutions to our problems. This makes our leaders opt for quick fixes, especially those ones that can be launched with fanfare. Thus the president and his aides descend upon Shagamu in helicopters to flag off the rehabilitation of the most important highway in the country, only to return to Abuja and fail to ensure that funds are released regularly to the contractors so that the project can be completed on time and with minimal inconvenience to commuters. One wonders: Is this simply an oversight on the part of those in charge, or is it an integral part of the calculation right from the beginning?
Then, one must identify a terrible disease afflicting many of the leaders in our clime which could probably be referred to as a numbness of the mind. This numbness prevents them from realising that leadership is in reality opportunity presented on a platter of gold: the very understanding that gripped those leaders who “did it” for their people (need I mention Martin Luther King, Lee Kuan Yew, Nelson Mandela and Barack Obama?) and caused them to transform their nations. In the document mentioned at the beginning of this piece, John Haggai reminded alumni that it was crucial to seize the opportunity of the moment, quoting a poet who had defined opportunity as “that precious drop of a moment freighted with destiny.” If the mind were not numb, how could one otherwise explain the fact that our leaders have at their disposal incredible resources which would allow them to do a world of good for millions of people and thereby write their names in letters of gold for all posterity, and yet they choose not to do it? They long to be seen as doing it, but they cannot bend their backs to the task of actually doing it.
The real tragedy, therefore, might actually be the fact that destiny at times chooses to make an appointment with individuals who will fail to recognise their moment. And that spells disaster for everyone. How truly tragic.