Chasing Money: When the Pursuit of Wealth Becomes the Pursuit of Life

There is nothing wrong with wanting money. Money feeds us.

Money educates our children. Money pays hospital bills. Money gives shelter to the homeless and dignity to the struggling. Money can turn a dream into a business and an idea into an institution. The problem is not money. The problem begins when money stops being something we use to live and becomes the reason we live.

This is the second instalment in a seven-part series of reflections for the youth --- seven conversations about life, choices, success, relationships, ageing, power, wealth and the things we often understand only after time has taken its toll.

The first was “Growing Old.” That article was about the destination toward which every young person is travelling, whether he knows it or not. This one is about one of the roads many of us take to get there: the endless road called money. And perhaps someone needs to tell our young people what many of us discovered too late. You can spend your entire life chasing money and still arrive at the end of the road feeling poor.

The Race Begins Early
We teach a child to study hard. “Get good grades.” Then: “Go to university.” Then: “Get a good job.” Then: “Buy a car.” Then: “Build a house.” Then: “Start a business.” Then: “Make more money.”

And somewhere along the way, without anyone announcing it, life becomes a competition. Who has the biggest house? Who drives the newest car? Whose child is studying abroad? Who has travelled to Dubai? Who has the latest telephone? Who has been appointed? Who knows the minister? Who owns the filling station? Who has the mansion behind the high wall? Who is wearing the most expensive clothes? Who has “made it”? And because everybody appears to be running, we begin to run too. We rarely stop to ask: Where are we running to?

The Dangerous Word: “Enough”

Money has a strange quality. When you have little, you think a little more will make you happy. You tell yourself: “If only I could make GH¢5,000 a month, I would be comfortable.” Then you make GH¢5,000. Soon you want GH¢10,000. Then GH¢20,000. Then GH¢50,000.

The house that once looked magnificent suddenly looks ordinary because someone has built a bigger one. The car you once prayed for becomes an embarrassment when your neighbour buys a newer model. The telephone that once represented success becomes obsolete. The clothes become old. The furniture becomes unfashionable. The holiday becomes a photograph on Facebook. And the race begins again.

There is always another person ahead of you. This is why the pursuit of money without a definition of “enough” can become a prison without walls. You keep working. You keep accumulating. You keep comparing. You keep postponing life. And you tell yourself: “Soon.” Soon I will rest. Soon I will travel. Soon I will spend time with my family. Soon I will visit my mother. Soon I will take care of my health. Soon I will enjoy what I have worked for. But sometimes soon arrives disguised as old age.

The House that Became a Prison
I have seen people build houses for years. They sacrifice holidays. They sacrifice friendships. They sacrifice sleep. They sacrifice family time. Sometimes they even sacrifice their integrity. They say: “I am doing it for my children.” And perhaps they are.

But children grow. They leave. They marry. They establish homes of their own. And one day the parent stands in a large, beautifully furnished house and discovers something painful: The children for whom the house was built are no longer living there. The rooms are beautiful. But quiet. The compound is large. But empty. The furniture is expensive. But nobody is sitting on it. What happened? Life happened. The children grew up. And the years disappeared while we were building.

Money Can Buy a Bed
But not sleep. It can buy food. But not appetite. It can buy medicine. But not necessarily health. It can buy a house. But not a home. It can buy a wedding. But not a marriage. It can buy a telephone. But not someone who wants to call you. It can buy a beautiful coffin. But not another day of life.

And perhaps this is one of the hardest lessons of adulthood: Money can solve many problems, but it cannot solve every problem. There are things that must be built while we are young because money cannot purchase them later. Trust. Friendship. Character. Family. Reputation. Peace of mind. Memories. Faith. Health. Love.

The Pressure to “MAKE IT”
For the youth, the pressure can be particularly cruel. Our societies celebrate visible success. We see the successful businessman. We do not see the years he struggled. We see the politician's convoy. We do not see the loneliness that may follow when the office disappears. We see the celebrity's mansion. We do not see the anxiety behind the photographs. We see the migrant's photograph in Europe. We do not see the nights of loneliness. We do not see the staunch Muslims and Christians who have made it when they visit fetish shrines. They are respected because the pay more tithes and sadaqa. We do not see them quaffing the blood of animals. Risking to lie in graves or coffins, or cemeteries --- just to make it.

Social media has made this worse. Everybody appears successful. Everybody is travelling. Everybody is eating in expensive restaurants. Everybody is buying something. Everybody is smiling. And the young person sitting in a single room begins to believe that everyone except him has discovered the secret of life.

He becomes desperate. Desperation can make people vulnerable. It can make a young man borrow beyond his means. It can make a young woman enter relationships for financial survival. It can make a graduate accept any dishonest opportunity. It can make a public servant steal. It can make a politician abuse power. It can make someone travel through dangerous routes because returning home empty-handed feels more frightening than risking death. And sometimes the pursuit of money does something even more dangerous: It persuades us that anything is permissible if the reward is large enough.

But there is Another Kind of Poverty
We speak constantly about financial poverty. We should. A hungry person cannot be given poetry instead of food. A sick child cannot be treated with motivational speeches. A student cannot pay school fees with dreams. Poverty is real.

But there is another poverty that can hide behind expensive clothes and impressive buildings. Poverty of the spirit. A person may have money and have no peace. May have influence and have no friends. May have thousands of contacts and nobody he trusts. May have several houses and nowhere that feels like home. May have everything that can be photographed and nothing that can be felt. That is why young people must learn an important distinction: Being wealthy is not the same as living well.

Do not be Ashamed of Honest Work
There is also something we must tell our young people. Do not despise small beginnings. A young person selling tomatoes is not a failure. A mechanic covered in grease is not a failure. A farmer returning from the field with mud on his clothes is not a failure. A seamstress behind a sewing machine is not a failure. A teacher standing before forty children is not a failure. A carpenter shaping wood with his hands is not a failure. A young graduate starting a small business from a room is not a failure.

Failure is not beginning small. Failure is abandoning integrity because you are impatient to become big. There are young Africans who would rather remain unemployed than be seen doing work that society considers beneath them. But dignity does not come from the size of the office. It comes from the honesty with which we occupy it.

And Do Not Let Money Buy Your Character

There will come a time when somebody will offer you money to do what you know is wrong. Perhaps nobody will ever know. Perhaps everyone else is doing it. Perhaps the amount is enormous. Perhaps you desperately need the money. That is when character is tested. Because the first dishonest money is rarely the last. The first compromise makes the second easier. And gradually, a person who once feared wrongdoing begins to explain it. Then defend it. Then teach it. Then become it.

Young person, remember: There are things money can buy that you will eventually discover you could not afford. Your name. Your conscience. Your reputation. Your children's respect. Your sleep. Your peace.

Save Something for Tomorrow
Money should also have a future. Spend some. Save some. Invest some. Give some. And learn to distinguish between needs, wants and vanity. You do not have to prove your success to people who will not pay your bills. You do not have to drive the car that impresses people who will disappear when the engine develops a problem. You do not need to build a house simply because your neighbour built one. And you certainly do not need to destroy your financial future trying to maintain an image.

A person who earns GH¢10,000 and lives like he earns GH¢15,000 may be poorer than someone who earns GH¢5,000 and lives wisely. Wealth is not merely what enters your pocket. It is also what remains after your desires have taken their share.

Do Not Postpone Living
This may be the most important lesson. Do not work for twenty years planning to enjoy the twenty-first. Life does not sign such contracts. The body changes. Parents age. Children grow. Friends disappear. Health becomes less predictable. And sometimes the money finally comes when the strength to enjoy it has gone.

So, young person, work. Work hard. Build. Invest. Save. Dream. Become successful. But occasionally stop. Sit with your mother. Call your father. Play with your children. Visit an old friend. Watch the sunrise and sunset. Pray. Travel if you can. Eat with people you love. Give someone something without expecting anything in return. Laugh. Rest. Because life is not the reward for finishing your work. Life is what happens while you are working.

How Much Is Enough?
Perhaps the wisest financial question is not: “How much can I make?” It is: “How much do I actually need to live the life I want?” There is nothing wrong with becoming rich. Africa needs wealthy entrepreneurs. We need successful businesses. We need investors. We need young people who will create jobs rather than wait for jobs. We need innovation. We need ambition. We need prosperity.

But we need prosperity that does not destroy the people who create it. We need wealth with conscience. Success with humanity. Ambition with boundaries. Money with purpose. Because there is no glory in arriving at the end of life with a full bank account and an empty heart.

One Day, You Will Ask Different Questions

When you are young, you ask: “How much do I have?” When you become older, you may ask: “What did I do with what I had?” When you are young, you ask: “What can I buy?” Later you may ask: “What can I give?” When you are young, you ask: “How many people know me?” Later you may ask: “Whose life became better because they knew me?”

And when the years have finally done their work, you may discover that the greatest wealth was never the money you accumulated. It was the people you loved. The lives you touched. The burdens you helped carry. The children you raised. The opportunities you created. The wrongs you refused to commit. The kindness nobody photographed. The nights you slept peacefully because you had nothing to hide.

To the Youth
Chase your dreams. But do not chase money so blindly that you lose yourself. Build your house. But build a home inside it. Buy your car. But do not let the car become your identity. Make money. But make it honestly. Become successful. But remain human. Remain humble. Remain rational.

Save for tomorrow. But do not sacrifice every today. Give your children a better life. But give them your presence too. And when you finally have enough, remember the people who had nothing when you were beginning. Because there will come a morning when you will look at everything you accumulated and ask a question no accountant can answer: “Was it worth the life I exchanged for it?” And perhaps the greatest tragedy would be to discover that the answer is no.

The clock does not stop because we are making money. The child we promised to spend time with is growing. The parent we promised to visit is ageing. The friend we keep postponing may not be there tomorrow (reminds of my friend Alhaji Quaye. Always told him I owe him a visit. Never went. The message came: Your fiend is gone for good. How sad!). The body we are abusing is keeping the bill. And the years we think we have in abundance are quietly leaving. Money is useful. Money is necessary. Money can change lives. But money was never meant to become life itself.

One day, the house will belong to somebody else. The car will become scrap. The clothes will become old. The bank account will have a new owner. The office will have another occupant. And your name will become a memory.

When that day comes, may you have something more valuable than money to show for your years. May you have people who miss you. May you have children who remember your presence, not merely your provisions. May you have friends who can tell stories about your kindness. May you have a conscience that allows you to sleep. May you have a life that, despite its struggles and imperfections, was genuinely lived. Because in the end, the richest person may not be the one who accumulated the most. It may be the one who needed the least to feel that life was enough. O Life, this Life!

FUSEINI ABDULAI BRAIMAH
+233208282575 / +233550558008
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