The writings were on the wall but for far too long, people overlooked, adapted and endured for as long as the could still breathe. This time around after being desensitized to the crumbling infrastructure around the city, a whole wall had collapsed claiming lives, sending a small cloud of dust into the air. Children ran toward it, as if it was a spectacle that was to be seen, while merchants complained that the dust had settled on their goods. A few men stood around the fallen building and shook their heads.
“Old wall,” one of them said. “ It all stems from poor maintenance,” another replied. By evening, like clockwork again everyone had forgotten about it the disaster. It had been standing for almost a hundred years. It surrounded the city like a promise, generations had grown up believing that the wall would remain long after they were gone.
They had been wrong. Before the wall collapsed and cracks begin to appear, the government announced an investigation and as usual when they intend to do nothing about it, a committee was formed. The committee held meetings, reports were filed but of course it resulted in absolutely nothing done.
Idris had grown up hearing stories about the wall. His grandfather, Baba Musa, had once worked near it as a young man. He had seen it when the stones were clean, the foundations strong, and the city still blossoming. One evening, Idris found his grandfather sitting beneath the old umbrella tree behind the house.
“Baba,” he said. “Why is the wall falling?”
Baba Musa asked “Which part?” and Idris replied “All of it.”
The old man smiled sadly.
“Young people always want to know when something began.” Idris sat beside him and asked “Tell me how it started.”
Baba Musa looked toward the distant wall.
“You see those stones?”
“Yes.”
“Your great grandfather saw them being laid.”
Baba Musa explained that when the wall was commissioned, the rulers had promised the people pthat it would protect the city for generations. The best Engineers were hired and Plans were drawn , but the officials responsible for the construction discovered that there was money to be made.
They bought cheaper materials and recorded the expensive ones in the accounts, they also paid contractors more than they were owed and received gifts in return. They buried obvious complaints, the wall had essentially collapsed before it was even done being built and because the wall looked magnificent from the outside, nobody questioned what was beneath it.
“Wasn't anyone angry?” Idris asked.
“Some were.” His Baba replied
“What did they do?” Idris asked in response
“Some complained, whilst some were silenced and the majority discovered that corruption was easier to condemn from a distance than to resist when there was money on the table.”
Idris looked at the wall again.
“So the foundation was already weak?”
“Exactly.”
“But the wall stood for years.”
“Yes.”
“Then why did it take so long to collapse?”
Baba Musa leaned forward.
“Because corruption is patient.”
He told Idris that the weakness beneath the wall was not immediately visible. The city continued to grow. New buildings appeared. Roads were constructed. Schools opened. Government offices multiplied. Everywhere, people celebrated “progress” but beneath the celebrations, the same sickness continued in all the buildings and institutions, because the foundation was corrupt and weak and as such whilst buildings were being constructed the cost of living and welfare of the people was dwindling.
Officials became wealthy while hospitals that were built beautifully from the outside lacked lacked medicine and schools lacked books and passionate teachers to teach because they were poorly built. Roads were built five times on paper but only once on the ground after taking triple the time to complete.
People learned that knowing the right person mattered more than doing the right thing. Baba Musa looked at Idris and said “The most dangerous stage of corruption is not when people steal. It is when everyone expects them to steal.”
Idris was quiet but his grandfather continued.
“Eventually, corruption became ordinary, a little bribe became a ‘little appreciation.’ Nepotism became ‘helping our own.’ Theft became ‘taking what belongs to us or rather everyone else is doing it, why not us’ Those who refused to participate were ultimately called foolish, even byt heir own family members.”
“And the wall?” Idris asked again
Baba Musa sighed and finally said “The wall reflected the society that built it.”
The cracks widened.
Whenever someone warned that the foundation was unstable, officials painted over the cracks.
When another section weakened, they placed banners over it. The government became more interested in the appearance of strength than the reality of it.
“They kept repairing the wall?” Idris asked.
“No. They kept decorating it.” Baba Musa said whilst chuckling a bit
Years passed and the generation that had built the weak foundation died. A new generation inherited the wall. They inherited the cracks too, which eventually collapsed.
Idris stared at his grandfather and asked “So who destroyed the wall?”
Baba Musa shook his head.
“That is the question everyone asks because it is easier to blame one person.” “Is it the officials who stole from its construction or the contractors who cheated or is it the people who looked away or the ones who benefited from the corruption?”
“What happens now?” Idris asked finally
Baba Musa smiled faintly.
“That depends on what you do with the rubble.”
“What do you mean?” Idris asked inquisitively
“The wall has already fallen you must now clear away the stones. Find the rotten foundation and remove what was built on dishonesty. Then build again.”
“Won't that take years?” Idris said
“Yes it will” Baba Musa replied
“Then why bother?” Idris retorted
Baba Musa looked directly at him.
“Because your generation did not build the wall.”
He reached for Idris's hand and held it tightly
“But you will decide whether to build another one on the same foundation or not”
IMAGE IS A.I GENERATED
