Death Smiles At Us All, All A Man Can Do Is Smile Back!

Like taxes, death too is inevitable. The Stoic philosopher Gaius Musonius Rufus a teacher of Philosophy in Rome during the reign of emperor Nero is widely quoted to have opined that since all must die, it is better to die with distinction than to live long. But by no measure of the quote did Mr. Musonius suggest that we ought to live recklessly. In fact, temperance is one of the central tenets of Stoic philosophy. On the flip side however, we have been brought up, taught and conditioned to always play safe. Acts of valour and valiance are neither encouraged nor rewarded in this day. The direct result of which is a society tending to near dysfunctionality. Today, a thug can snatch a lady’s bag on the street in broad daylight, leaving her wallowing in hopeless screams and no one would lift a finger in her defence. Also, those entrusted with the collection and/or monitoring of the performance of public funds instead gobble them up with reckless abandon and those on the sidelines simply yearn for their turn to do the same. I digress. We are indeed living longer today but less honourably and surely devoid of virtue. “While we wait for life, life passes.” The Stoics warn.

The remarkable Daniel Kalinaki in one of his numerous and sterling articles poses the philosophical question; How Shall We Explain to Our Kids How We Came to Be So Mediocre? where he went on a rant about what he calls the failures that stare us in the face; from schools that don’t teach to hospitals that don’t treat to farms that don’t produce, taps that don’t run, a predatory state, cops that don’t police, and on and on he went. The aspects he emphasizes and many more, are opportunities for any living soul worth its salt to unshackle itself and unravel the conditioning that we have all been subjected to — the one that favours mediocrity, procrastination and all the ills in between — into a place of urgency and living immediately with courage and virtousity, not with the impatience of a boda boda rider but with the meticulousness and gravity of a surgeon.

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Musonius Rufus lived at a time when Stoic philosophy was against the beliefs and aspirations of the wielders of power and this had him enduring long spells of time in exile, however, he specifically refers to his time in exile — in his ninth discourse That Exile Is Not An Evil — as being advantageous for a practitioner of Stoicism. That I am quoting the man today, about 20 centuries after his death is testament of a life lived with distinction. Of another philosopher, Socrates, his associates said that he was in his time the best of all men they ever encountered — and the most intelligent and most just. Even at the point of his death, his virtue of courage ceased not. How have you lived? What shall be the hallmark of your eulogy? Shall we call you good and mean it? In case you are still wondering what a life of distinction might look like, the venerated Martin Luther King who, by the way, died at the prime age of 39 said that If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep streets even as Michaelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, ‘Here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well.” — I couldn’t agree more.

I buried an uncle last Saturday, my mother’s follower. The Saturday before that we were at an introduction ceremony where he was the master of ceremonies — oh the brevity and fragility of human life! It surely is a fickle game — He was in perfect health, jovial and executed his duties on the day with exceptional courtesy and diligence. So recent is the function that the lapel of the coat that comprised the suit I wore that day still bears a variation of the boutonnière that has come to be synonymous with the groom’s entourage on such functions. His death, just about 3 days after we had made merry and cracked jokes accompanied by roaring bouts of hearty laughter stirred in my mind James’ words. James, the brother of Jesus writes, “Yet you do not know the least thing about what may happen in your life tomorrow. What is secure in your life? You are merely a vapour like a puff of smoke or a wisp of steam from a cooking pot that is visible for a little while and then vanishes into thin air. — What a pity!

My uncle was a master of his craft, his students will tell you that he would dictate notes in his Agriculture classes with no book to read from, one of them eulogised him as the Greatest Of All Time. His last appointment lends credence to that claim. He found the school he was posted to as Headmaster with less than 40 students and with no enrolments for the Advanced level. The school was at a near collapse. In under three years he had turned the school’s fortunes around with an enrolment of over 700 students with the Advanced level revived — DISTINCTION! There’s probable grounds to believe his death was unnatural, if so, I hope we can get justice. Fare thee well uncle Elliot.

Memento mori! — “Look behind. Remember thou art mortal. Remember you must die!”

ThE LAst TeSO cHieF