What can I do?

Not a day goes by without me thinking about the poverty around me. For this is what you get when you are very much aware of the abundance out there in the world and of the lack in your room.

Will I ever succeed and take my family out of obscurity?
Will I ever succeed and help the impoverished kids in my community?
Will I ever succeed and take the youths off the streets of my state?
Will I ever succeed and end the corruption in my country?
Will I ever succeed and make Africa great again?
Will I ever succeed and have enough power to end wars at the snap of my fingers?
Will I ever succeed and help make the world a better place?

These are some of the questions I ruminate over.

I want to help solve ALL the world’s problems. At least, those I’m aware of. But then I’m faced with the reality of trade-offs. I can’t be everything. I can’t do everything. I can’t solve all of humanity’s problems, no matter how bad I want to.

Sometimes, I’m elated about my gift of recognising the pain of others and wanting to solve it. Another time, I’m feeling just like a blip in the canvas of eternity.

This poem puts how I feel, but my mind, with which I conceived the thoughts of making the world a better place, is the friend who, in turn, tells me I’m too small to make a change:

Once, I had a friend so good,
Who cared for me like no one else could.
Daringly, he pushed me to strive,
Encouragement making me feel alive.

Honest and trustworthy, he never lied,
Proof in his words, always by my side.
A shoulder to lean on, a listening ear,
Wiping away tears, he was always near.

And when I achieved a small success,
He celebrated with me, no distress.
Lucky to have had a friend so true,
Whose virtues and warmth, I’ll pursue.

But then one day, he changed his tune,
When we read Earth’s population in a swoon.
Saying, “You aren’t special among these numbers,
Impossible to make a change, you’ll fray and crumble.”

“Oh,” I cried, for he who once said “You have no limits,“
Now suddenly said “You have no chance of winning.”
I felt powerless, too small to make a change,
In a world where control felt out of range.

But I turned to history, and it proved time and again,
Populous world or not, countless “insignificant” men,
With humble beginnings, have influenced humanity and left,
Their mark and inspiring legacies for eternity.

So I choose not to be discouraged by limitations,
Nor be blinded by flawed estimations,
In a world as populous as it is now,
I can make a difference somehow.

Maybe, just maybe, I have to accept that I cannot solve all of the world’s problems, but I can at least make a contribution. But, there’s that part of me that doesn’t want that. “I want it all”, it says.

Or, maybe, just maybe, I have to stop thinking about these questions and just exist. I don’t get an answer to them anyway, so why bother? Or will an answer ever come?