By Adegoke Rahmah

“A word is a silent blade forged in the mind. It leaves no drop of physical blood, yet it can pierce a heart and carve scars that time cannot heal”

You often hear the statement, ‘a word is like a sword ‘, but you wonder if this is really true. Today, I’m going to tell you a story about how words spoken out of negligence destroyed a young man’s life.

The story is about a young, brilliant boy named Andrew, who is just in his teens. His father is all he has after losing his mother at a very young age. His father, although a multi-billionaire, believes that money and strict discipline are the best ways to train a child. Just like most rich parents, his father threw him into a boarding school, where he spent his life from childhood till youthful age. His father only visits him once in a while, and all he does is rebuke his son about his grades. Rather than commending the effort of the young boy and encouraging him to do better, he only complain of the grades are not perfect A’s. One can imagine the struggles of this young man being deprived of fatherly love.

Despite the challenges, Andrew never stopped working hard. He kept working harder, hoping to achieve those “perfect A’s,” perhaps his father may later be pleased. His intense reading habit mirrors that of a third-year medical student when he was just in his first year in high school. It was as if his life depended on books.

The Lord, who rewards those who do good, made the sacrifices of the young man pay off. He not only passed all his subjects, but he had A’s in all. His excellence earned him recognition from the State Government. Just in his first year alone, he won two different competitions.

With joy and a sense of accomplishment, he couldn’t wait to inform his dad about this feast. The phone kept ringing, but no one was picking it up. This almost frustrated him, but he later got a response after the fifth attempt. With joy and eagerness, Andrew shouted at the top of his voice, “Dad, I had A parallel, won two competitions, and got recognition from the State Government!”

There was a very long silence, as if no one had just talked, only for the father to utter demotivating statements: “Is that why your calls won’t let me rest?” It was as if an arrow was shot at the innocent boy. He felt a sharp pain deep down in his heart; his head started to spin; he stared at the wall for what seemed like forever, and tears rolled freely from his cheeks.

Those statements he received that night changed him totally before the dawn of the following day broke. It was as if those statements killed his zeal for excellence. He started skipping classes, completely quit reading, started flirting with girls, and kept bad company. With time, he started smoking and consumed hard drugs: habits that continued for almost a year.

Then one day I saw him on the street lighting a cigarette. “Andrew, what are you doing?” I asked, astonished. “If my father doesn’t care about my life, then why should I?” he replied. Hmm… I was speechless. I started shedding tears and tried to convince him to quit smoking. Rather than giving a listening ear, he laughed sarcastically, saying, “Young smokers don’t die young.” His gang escalated the laughter. The laugh exposed his thickly stained brown teeth. Reflecting on how an innocent soul, who was once brilliant and passionate towards his studies, turned into a drug addict within a year made me weep silently. I walked away pained and disappointed.

Later that night, I had a call from a strange number. The person at the other end of the line revealed shocking news: “Andrew is in a coma; he fainted in a club and was rushed to the hospital. I rushed to the hospital and saw him on the bed, unconscious. Soon his father came, and I could see in his face sorrow, sadness, and fear of losing his only child. He moved close to his son and started sobbing, “How did you end up like this, Andrew?”  he asked rhetorically, weeping profusely. I felt sorry for him. The ward was silent. Everyone kept praying silently for his survival.

Sadly, that night, Andrew kicked the bucket. His father cried, wept, and sobbed like a baby. That was when I realised how he truly loved his son.

He didn’t know that the statement he uttered almost a year ago was what killed his son. Perhaps if he was conscious enough, he would have prevented himself from uttering the statement.

“The scar remains tomorrow
for what is uttered today,
So watch the tongue that shapes it
For a word can ruin a day.
A word can dim a morning
or pierce the darkest night.”