My wife gifted me a harmonica for my birthday. Not because she thought I needed a new hobby, but because she had not heard me play for a long time. I had a few harmonicas already, but they had been lent out to my grandchildren, who, after producing sounds that frightened even the crows outside, had returned them with reeds that refused to sing again.
So, when she handed me that shiny new Hohner, it was like meeting an old friend. I held it gently, blew into it, and pure, clear notes filled the room. What a sound! Music returned to the house, and my heart danced with it. But as I sat there playing, another thought came to me, and it had nothing to do with music.
It struck me that my country is rather like my old harmonicas. We spend money, time, and talent building beautiful things, like six-lane highways, shining metro lines, state-of-the-art bridges, and lovely gardens. But the people using them? Many have never been taught how to do so. Just as my grandchildren had no idea how to handle the delicate reeds of my harmonica, many of our citizens do not know how to handle the blessings that development brings.
Take our roads, for instance. You can make them as smooth as silk, but if people still drive like it is a racetrack, or treat traffic lights like decorations, then those roads will not stay smooth for long. We build public gardens and fill them with flowers, but the next morning you see biscuit wrappers, plastic bottles, and leftover food decorating the lawns instead. We build skywalks, but people prefer to dart across the road under them. We install spittoons, but walls continue to blush red with pan stains.
The problem is not the lack of infrastructure. It is the lack of instruction. We have taught people to build, but not to behave. We teach how to make a car, but not how to drive responsibly. We teach how to make money, but not how to value cleanliness, honesty, or order.
And why is that? Because education itself has become a performance. Our political leaders boast of schools and universities, but how many of them have genuine degrees? Until we have leaders who understand what true learning means, how can we expect our citizens to learn anything meaningful?
As I play my new harmonica, each note reminds me that when something beautiful is handled well, it produces harmony. But when mishandled, it only creates noise. My old harmonicas are proof of that.
Our country, too, has all the instruments of greatness—talent, resources, creativity, and potential. But unless we learn to handle them with care, discipline, and understanding, we will only produce noise where music should have been.
And unlike me, my dear country may not get a second chance with a brand-new harmonica gifted by my dear wife..!