Gambiaj.com – (BANJUL, The Gambia) – Some time ago, I wrote about that stage of life when nothing surprises us anymore—when experience replaces illusion, and we begin to see things as they truly are. But seeing clearly is not the same as caring deeply. Wisdom understands; goodness acts.
Yet there are moments when wisdom, after seeing too much, begins to whisper that there is no point in being good anymore—that kindness changes nothing.
Have you ever felt that way? When the heart wants to keep believing, but the mind is tired of disappointment? Goodness disagrees, though often quietly, and carries on. But even the kindest heart can grow tired—and that is where the real test begins.
Even goodness can grow weary. The hands that always helped begin to tremble. The voice that once comforted grows silent—not from anger, but from exhaustion. It is the tiredness of those who keep trying to do right in a world that keeps moving the goalposts, who give without return, believe without reward, and keep standing when it would be easier to sit down.
Goodness also grows weary of explaining itself to a world that mistakes gentleness for weakness and humility for fear. It grows weary of seeing pretenders succeed while sincerity walks alone. Yet even in weariness, goodness does not curse the world. It simply lowers its voice and endures—like a candle that refuses to die, even when the wind turns cruel.
We rarely speak of this kind of heartbreak—the quiet fatigue of those who keep doing right while others look away.
Teachers who still prepare lessons for half-listening classrooms. Nurses who comfort patients long after their shifts have ended. Civil servants who push a file forward because conscience insists, not because anyone is watching. Farmers who keep planting when the rains delay. Imams who open the mosque doors even when few attend.
These are not the tired of body, but the tired of soul—people who keep believing that honesty still matters, even when no one seems to notice.
And yet this is where a nation’s true strength is tested. The danger is not that goodness disappears, but that it begins to doubt itself. When the good withdraw, believing their efforts make no difference, the space they leave is quickly filled by those whose consciences never tire.
A country’s moral direction weakens not when evil grows stronger, but when goodness grows too weary to hold the line.
Even so, there is grace in this tiredness. It is the fatigue that comes from love—the kind a parent feels after keeping watch over a restless child, or that an honest worker feels after giving their best without recognition. True goodness does not boast; it simply continues, bruised but unbroken.
Faith reminds us that even the strongest hearts once trembled. The Prophet Job endured despair before renewal. Musa—Moses—struck the rock in frustration before water flowed. Their struggles remind us that even prophets felt the weariness of trying to do right in an unlistening world—and still found strength to begin again.
Weariness, then, is not failure. It is a reminder that goodness is human, and humanity is fragile.
What matters is not the exhaustion itself, but what follows—whether we surrender or rest, recover, and return. For goodness, unlike pride, is patient. It knows that truth walks slowly, that justice takes the long road, and that integrity often works quietly, without applause.
When goodness grows tired, it must not retreat forever. It must breathe, pray, and rise again—perhaps softer, but stronger in spirit. Because the world still needs those who choose decency when deceit looks easier, who mend instead of mock, and who build instead of blame.
In the end, goodness will always outlast the noise—not because it wins every battle, but because it refuses to abandon the field. The candle may flicker, but dawn always finds it still burning, lighting the way for those who have not yet given up.
Perhaps that is where stillness begins—not as surrender, but as renewal. When goodness grows tired, it returns to that calm understanding born of experience, where wisdom and goodness meet again: one seeing clearly, the other still choosing to care. Even the weary must rest—not to give up, but to gather strength to help heal the world once more.
