Enlightenment Put Me Back to Sleep!

There is an Akan adage that says “Sɛ ɔkwasia anite a, na agorɔ agu” meaning once a person becomes enlightened, it is game over. And to be very honest, I understand why.

Sometimes I wish I could go back to being a child, playing without awareness, not carrying the burden of perception. When you are unaware, life feels simple. You cannot discern motives, you cannot detect wickedness, you cannot measure hypocrisy. You live in a sort of wonderland, unbothered by the cues and the politics of the world.

But when enlightenment comes, everything changes. Suddenly, you see. You can perceive stupidity. You can discern people’s wickedness. You can cut through the layers of deceit and see the emptiness behind people’s words. And it hurts when you realize how powerless you are to change what you see.

It is almost unbearable to watch how, in this world, those who are the loudest are often the least thoughtful. Stupid people always seem to find microphones, platforms, and stages, from public occasions to podcasts. They project their foolishness boldly and confidently, and masses cheer them on. It is not ignorance; people know the nonsense for what it is, yet they embrace it because it serves them, suits their agenda, or simply entertains them.

This is why enlightenment feels like a curse at times. You can see through the performance, yet you must watch as others applaud it. You can feel the weight of truth, yet you must endure the roar of falsehood. The pain of awareness is that you cannot unsee.

Some days, I whisper to myself: let me go back to sleep. Let me be Alice again, falling down some rabbit hole into a world that does not exist but feels kinder than this one. Because enlightenment, while it sharpens, also wounds.

And I still do not understand how stupidity manages to be so loud.