Last week a fighter jet crashes into enemy territory.
Within hours, plans are drawn, satellites begin peeping like nosy neighbours, aircraft take off, commandos are briefed, and millions of dollars begin to flow like water from a leaking tap nobody wants to fix. All this for one man. One pilot.
Now pause there.
One man.
Not a battalion. Not a cabinet minister. Not a cricket team returning victorious from a World Cup. Just one man in a slightly crumpled uniform and a parachute that has seen better days.
And yet, the nation moves heaven and earth to bring him back.
You may disagree with their politics. You may raise eyebrows at their global behaviour. But at that moment, they are saying something very clearly. This man matters. His life matters. We will not leave him behind.
Now let us come home.
Here, we are a country of great values. We say it often, loudly, and preferably on prime-time television. We speak of culture, tradition, and morality with such passion that even the microphones feel overwhelmed.
But then you step outside.
A motorbike zooms past you on the pavement, missing your toes by a margin that would make an Olympic long jumper proud.
A man is beaten because he worshipped different.
A woman walks home calculating risk like a chartered accountant balancing accounts.
A child learns the fear of being molested before multiplication tables.
And somewhere in all this, we are told what to value.
Sometimes it is a cow. Sometimes it is a religious place. Sometimes it is our flag.
But most often, not a human being.
Sure, we do not spend millions rescuing one life. But will spend minutes justifying why it did not matter in the first place.
“Oh, but there must have been a reason.”
“They wanted to save their face.”
“It is an ego issue.”
And just like that, a saved life is reduced to a debate point.
We have become experts at outrage, but amateurs at compassion.
We will argue for hours on social media, typing furiously with our thumbs, but will not slow down our car when someone lies injured on the road. We will forward messages about humanity, but forget to practice it between breakfast and dinner.
And then we wonder why things are the way they are.
Because somewhere along the line, we forgot the simplest truth: A nation is not great because of its speeches. It is great because of how it treats its people. Not in theory, not in slogans, but in everyday moments.
When a life is in danger, do we look away or do we step in?
The day we begin to value a single human life the way that pilot was valued, not because he is useful, not because he votes, but simply because he is human, that day something will change.
Till then, your life and mine will remain very important, at election time…!