Solo Contro Roma: The Day You Must Learn to Stand Alone

There is a film title I have carried in my head for more than half a century. I was about 20 years old in the mid-1970s, a young man who had started life as a pupil teacher. In those days, going to the cinema was one of the pleasures available to a young man who did not have much money but had a great appetite for life. I loved cowboy films. I loved war films. And I particularly loved the old Roman films --- the sandals, the armour, the swords, the chariots, the arenas, the emperors and the slaves, the courage and the betrayal, the battles between men who sometimes seemed to be fighting not merely for victory but for survival. Then there was one film whose title somehow entered my memory and refused to leave. Solo Contro Roma. Alone against Rome. I cannot now remember all the details of the film. I have forgotten much of its plot, the names of most of its characters and perhaps even the ending. But the title survived. Why? Perhaps because life itself eventually teaches us the meaning of those three words. Solo contro Roma. There are moments in every human life when the crowd disappears. Friends disappear. The applause disappears. The telephone stops ringing. The people who once promised, "I will always be there for you," become busy with their own lives. And suddenly, you discover something you were never taught in school: There are battles you must fight alone.

The Crowd Is Not Your Life
When you are young, life seems to be a collective enterprise. You have friends everywhere. You go to school together. You play together. You eat together. You do foolish things together. You laugh together. You dream together. You make plans together. At 20, you may have ten friends and believe all ten will still be there when you are 50. At 30, you may have twenty people you call your friends. At 40, you begin to notice that some of them have disappeared. At 50, you begin counting them. At 60, you stop counting. At 70, you are grateful for the few who remained. That is not necessarily because people became bad. Life simply happened. One friend got married. Another had children. Another moved to another city. Another became successful and entered a different social circle. Another became sick. Another died. Another disappointed you. Another discovered that your friendship was useful only while you were useful to him. And some simply vanished without explanation. That is life. Do not hate them. Do not spend your old age asking why everybody did not remain with you. People have their own journeys. The mistake is not that people leave. The mistake is expecting people never to leave.

Even Brothers and Sisters Have Their Own Lives

There was a time when many African families were large and closely knit. Your brother was your brother. Your sister was your sister. Your uncle could feel like a second father. Your aunt could feel like another mother. The family was a safety net. But modern life has changed many things. Your brother has a wife. He has children. He has school fees. He has rent or a mortgage. He has medical bills. He has problems you know nothing about. Your sister has a husband, children, work and responsibilities of her own. You may call your brother at midnight expecting him to drop everything for you. But he may be lying awake worrying about how he will pay his child's school fees in the morning. We must therefore learn a difficult lesson: Love does not always mean availability. Your siblings may love you deeply and still be unable to carry your burdens.

And sometimes your parents --- the people you thought would always be there --- grow old before your eyes. The strong father who once carried you on his shoulders may eventually need you to help him walk. The mother who cooked for the entire household may one day struggle to lift a cooking pot. Then comes the day when you realize: The people who once carried you now need you to carry them. And eventually, even they leave. That is when childhood truly ends.

And Then Your Children Grow Up
There is another truth parents do not like to hear. Your children are not your permanent possessions. You raise them. You sacrifice for them. You pay their school fees. You feed them. You worry about them. You stay awake when they are sick. You pray for them. You dream for them. Then one day they grow up. They marry. They establish their own homes. They have children. They acquire responsibilities. Their own children become their first concern. And suddenly, the child for whom you once spent your entire salary may not have enough time to sit with you for an hour.

Do not interpret everything as ingratitude. Sometimes it is simply the mathematics of life. Your son may love you but be overwhelmed by his own responsibilities. Your daughter may have her own household to manage. Of course, there are wonderful sons who devote themselves to their parents and daughters who do not. There are exceptions everywhere. But many families discover that daughters often remain more emotionally and practically connected to ageing parents than sons. The lesson for the young is not to wait until old age and complain. The lesson is this: Build a life in which your children are a blessing --- not your only insurance policy.

Learn To Be Alone Without Becoming Lonely

Here we must make an important distinction. Being alone is not the same thing as being lonely. Loneliness is the painful feeling that you are disconnected from people. Solitude is the voluntary decision to step away from people for a while. A lonely person may be surrounded by 500 people. A person sitting alone under a tree may be perfectly at peace. You can be lonely in a marriage. You can be lonely in a political party. You can be lonely in a church. You can be lonely in a mosque. You can be lonely in a family. You can even be lonely in a crowded cinema. And you can be alone in a quiet room and feel completely at home with yourself. That distinction matters enormously.

Psychology has increasingly recognized that loneliness is about the quality of one's social connection, while solitude can be restorative when it is chosen rather than imposed. The young person who cannot sit quietly for ten minutes without reaching for a telephone may eventually discover that he does not know himself. We live in a noisy age. Notifications. WhatsApp messages. TikTok. Facebook. Instagram. Television. Music. Political arguments. Endless opinions. Everybody talking. Everybody commenting. Everybody telling everybody else what to think.

But when was the last time you sat quietly and asked yourself: Who am I? What do I really believe? What kind of person am I becoming? If nobody applauded me, would I still do the right thing? That is solitude. And solitude can be a university.

The Day You Must Stand Alone For the Truth

There will come a time when your friends will want you to agree with them. Your colleagues will want you to keep quiet. Your political party will want you to defend something you know is wrong. Your business associates may want you to sign something you know you should not sign. Your friends may say: "Everybody is doing it." That sentence has destroyed many lives. Everybody is not doing it. And even if everybody were doing it, that would not make it right.

One of the most important lessons a young person can learn is this: Popularity is not morality. The truth does not become false because you are standing alone. And a lie does not become true because one thousand people repeat it. The philosopher Søren Kierkegaard placed enormous emphasis on the individual standing before God and refusing to hide behind the crowd. There is something profoundly frightening --- and profoundly liberating --- about that idea. At the end of the day, you cannot hand your conscience to the crowd. You cannot tell God: "Everybody was doing it." You cannot tell history: "I only followed my friends." You cannot tell your children: "I did what the crowd wanted." There are moments when the crowd must be left behind. Stand there alone, if necessary.

Don’t Confuse Strength with Isolation

This is where wisdom becomes important. Standing alone does not mean refusing everybody's advice. It does not mean believing you are always right. It does not mean becoming arrogant. It does not mean refusing friendship. It does not mean saying, "I need nobody." That is not strength. That can be foolishness.

The Bible gives us a beautiful correction. Ecclesiastes says: "Two are better than one." It explains that when one falls, the other can lift him up. It even asks how someone can remain warm alone. There is therefore no contradiction. You need people. But you must not become psychologically dependent on people. You need friends. But you must be able to survive the departure of a friend. You need family. But you must recognize that family members have their own responsibilities. You need your spouse. But you must not lose your identity inside your marriage. You need your children. But you must not make them responsible for giving meaning to your existence. You need society. But you must retain a conscience independent of society. That is maturity.

Jesus Also Went Alone
The Christian who believes that solitude is weakness should remember the life of Jesus. Again and again, the Gospels portray Jesus withdrawing from the crowd. After ministering to people, He sought quiet places. Before major moments, He prayed. In Gethsemane, He went away from the disciples to pray. There are moments when even the people closest to you cannot enter the deepest chamber of your struggle. There are prayers you cannot pray in a crowd. There are tears you cannot shed in public. There are decisions you cannot make in a noisy room. There are questions that require silence. There are wounds that need privacy before they can heal.

And there is a conversation that every human being eventually needs to have: a conversation with God. You do not need an audience for it. You do not need a microphone. You do not need a choir. You do not need a television camera. Sometimes you need only a quiet room, a sincere heart and the courage to say: "God, it is me."

The Bible Does Not Romanticize Solitude

Scripture is actually more balanced than we sometimes are. It recognizes the danger of isolation. Ecclesiastes describes the tragedy of a person who is alone, working endlessly, accumulating wealth, yet eventually asking: "For whom am I toiling?" Then comes the reminder that two can help one another when one falls. That is an important warning for the young. Do not spend your youth building wealth while destroying relationships. Do not become so ambitious that when you finally become successful, there is nobody with whom to share your success. Do not become so obsessed with becoming somebody that you forget how to be somebody's friend. Money can buy a beautiful house. It cannot manufacture companionship. You can buy a bed. You cannot buy somebody who genuinely cares whether you slept well. You can buy medicine. You cannot buy the hand that holds yours when you are frightened. You can buy food. You cannot buy the person who sits beside you and says, "Eat." This is why Scripture says: Two are better than one. The lesson is not live alone. The lesson is: Build relationships, but also build yourself.

The Friends of Your Youth Will Not All Reach Your Old Age

This is perhaps one of the saddest lessons of growing older. When you are young, you think friendship is permanent. You take photographs together. You make promises. You tell each other: "We will always be together." Then life begins. One friend goes north. Another goes south. One becomes a teacher. Another becomes a businessman. Another joins the civil service. Another becomes a soldier. Another becomes a politician. Another leaves the country. Another becomes rich. Another remains poor. One becomes successful. Another becomes bitter. One becomes sick. Another dies. And suddenly, the group photograph becomes a cemetery of memories. You look at the faces. Some are no longer alive. Some no longer call. Some you would not recognize if you met them today. And some, you even forget their names. And you ask yourself: Where did all the years go? That is one of the quiet tragedies of ageing.

You do not merely lose people. Sometimes you lose entire versions of yourself. The boy you once were disappears. The young man disappears. The ambitions disappear. The friends disappear. The parents disappear. And one morning you look into the mirror and realize: You are now the old man you once watched walking slowly down the road.

SOLO CONTRO ROMA
Perhaps that is why that old film title stayed with me. Not because I remembered its entire story. But because life eventually writes its own version of the title. There will be a day when you must make a decision and nobody agrees with you. Solo contro Roma. There will be a day when you must refuse money that everyone else is accepting. Solo contro Roma. There will be a day when telling the truth costs you a friendship. Solo contro Roma. There will be a day when your political party is wrong and your conscience knows it. Solo contro Roma. There will be a day when everyone tells you to compromise your principles. Solo contro Roma. There will be a day when your children have their own lives and you must learn to live without demanding their constant attention. Solo contro Roma. There will be a day when the person you thought would grow old with you is no longer beside you. Solo contro Roma. There will be a day when you sit beside the hospital bed of somebody you love and discover that there are some journeys nobody can make for another person. Solo contro Roma. And finally, there will be a day when you leave this earth.

People may surround your coffin. Your children may cry. Your friends may speak beautifully about you. People may pray. But you will make the final journey alone.

"If You Speak the Truth, Be Prepared To Stand Alone"

I heard it from Lucky Dube that if you speak the truth, you must be prepared to stand alone. Truth is expensive. Sometimes it costs friendships. Sometimes it costs positions. Sometimes it costs money. Sometimes it costs popularity. Sometimes it costs invitations. Sometimes it costs political opportunities. But there is something more expensive than the price of truth: the price of living a lie. When you lie long enough, you eventually have to remember which lie you told to whom. When you betray your conscience repeatedly, you eventually lose the ability to respect yourself. But when you stand for what you believe is right, even when nobody applauds, something remarkable happens. You become free. You may lose the crowd. But you gain yourself.

The Philosophers Have Been Warning Us

The great thinkers understood this long before the age of social media. The Stoic philosopher Marcus Aurelius repeatedly returned to the importance of examining one's own mind and remaining anchored in one's principles rather than being controlled by the opinions of others. Seneca, another Stoic, warned against allowing the crowd to determine how we live. The existentialists went even further. They asked a frightening question: Are you living your own life, or the life society has chosen for you?

Psychologist Carl Jung wrote extensively about the journey toward becoming one's true self --- a process he called individuation. That journey requires separation from the expectations of the crowd. It requires discovering who you are beneath the roles society gives you. You may be somebody's son. Somebody's daughter. Somebody's husband. Somebody's wife. Somebody's father. Somebody's mother. Somebody's employee. Somebody's boss. Somebody's political supporter. Somebody's religious follower. But beneath all those labels is a human being who must eventually answer the question: Who am I? And it is solitude gives you the opportunity to meet that person.

Learn To Walk Away From the Madding Crowd

I read Thomas Hardy’s “Far From the Madding Crowd” for my English Literature exams at “O” Level (let me pause here and say RIP to my English Literature tutors --- late John Ewuntoma Bawah, and late late Lepowura Jawula). Thomas Hardy gave us the unforgettable phrase "the madding crowd." There is wisdom in occasionally walking away from it. Not forever. Just long enough to hear yourself think.

Turn off the phone. Leave the arguments. Put away the television. Sit under a tree. Walk alone. Read. Think. Pray. Look at the sky. Listen to the wind. Ask yourself where your life is going. Young people especially need this discipline. Because the modern world is constantly telling them what to buy, what to wear, what to believe, whom to admire, what success looks like and how many people should "like" them. But a person's worth cannot be measured by likes. A man's success cannot be measured only by money. A woman's beauty cannot be measured by social-media comments. And a human being's importance cannot be determined by the number of followers on a screen. The crowd can applaud you and still be wrong about you.

What Should the Young Learn Now?

If I could sit with a group of young people today, I would tell them seven things.

• First, learn to enjoy your own company. If you cannot sit alone without becoming restless, you have not yet met yourself.
• Second, choose friends carefully. You do not need hundreds of friends. You need a few people who will tell you the truth when everyone else is flattering you.
• Third, never surrender your conscience to a group. A crowd can be wrong. A political party can be wrong. A pastor can be wrong. An imam can be wrong. Your friends can be wrong. And you can be wrong too. The important thing is to have the courage to examine what you believe.
• Fourth, love your family but do not build your entire existence around expectations of what they will do for you. Your children may love you and still become busy. Your siblings may love you and still have burdens of their own. Prepare your heart for this reality.
• Fifth, save and prepare for old age. Do not assume that your children will become your pension. Do not assume that your friends will finance your retirement. Do not assume that government will solve every problem. Prepare while you are strong for the days when you may not be.
• Sixth, cultivate a relationship with God. There will be questions that money cannot answer. There will be nights when friends cannot help. There will be moments when medicine cannot remove fear. Those are the moments when faith becomes more than a public performance.
• Seventh, learn to stand alone for what is right. If everybody walks one way and your conscience tells you that the road is wrong, have the courage to stop. You may stand alone. Stand.

But Never Become a Lonely Hero
There is one final warning. Do not turn "standing alone" into an ego. Some people are proud of having no friends. They call themselves independent. They reject everybody's advice. They refuse to apologize. They never admit that they are wrong. That is not strength. That is isolation disguised as strength. The strongest person is not the person who needs nobody. The strongest person is the one who can love people deeply without losing himself. He can receive advice without surrendering his judgment. He can accept help without surrendering his dignity. He can enjoy friendship without becoming dependent upon it. He can be alone without being lonely. And he can stand against the crowd without hating the crowd. That is maturity.

One Day, You Will Understand
When I was 20, I watched Solo contro Roma as entertainment. I did not know that decades later, life itself would become the cinema. I did not know that people I loved would disappear. I did not know that friendships would change. I did not know that parents would grow old. In fact, I did not know I will part company with my parents. I did not know that children would become adults. I did not know that some people would walk away without explanation. I did not know that there would be moments when truth would demand courage. I did not know that there would be nights when I would need to sit quietly and talk to God. Youth rarely knows these things. Youth thinks the present will last forever. It does not. Everything changes. People change. Bodies change. Friendships change. Priorities change. Countries change. Families change. And eventually, we change.

That is why young people must learn something that school examinations rarely teach: Learn to love people, but do not make idols of them. Build friendships, but do not worship friendship. Love your children, but do not make them your retirement plan. Love your brothers and sisters, but remember that they have families of their own. Listen to society, but keep your conscience. Enjoy the crowd, but cultivate solitude. Pray with others, but also learn to pray alone. And when the moment comes when you have to choose between the crowd and the truth --- choose the truth. Even if you have to walk alone.

The Last Walk
Perhaps this is the greatest paradox of life. We spend our youth desperately trying not to be alone. Then, as we grow older, life slowly teaches us how to be alone. The friends become fewer. The house becomes quieter. The telephone rings less often. The faces around the table change. The children leave. The parents are gone. The photographs become more important than the people in them. And one evening, perhaps sitting by the window, you look back at the road you have travelled. You remember the young man you once were. You remember the friends. The laughter. The arguments. The dreams. The people who promised to stay. And perhaps, for a moment, your eyes become wet. Not because life was entirely bad. But because it passed so quickly. You realize that some people were only meant to walk with you for a season. And that is okay. Thank God for the season. Bless them. Forgive those who hurt you. Remember those who helped you. And continue walking. Because life is not measured only by how many people accompany us. Sometimes it is measured by whether we had the courage to keep walking when the road became empty.

My Thoughts
So, my young friend, make friends. Love your family. Build a good marriage. Raise your children well. Serve your community. Help the weak. Listen to wise people. Laugh often. Cry when you must. Pray. But also learn to sit alone. Learn to think alone. Learn to decide alone. Learn to face failure alone. Learn to defend the truth alone. Learn to face God alone. Because one day, whether we are ready or not, we will discover that the most important journey of our lives is a journey no one else can make for us. And perhaps, when that day comes, we will finally understand the old film title that stayed in my memory for more than fifty years: Solo contro Roma. Alone against Rome. Not because we must live without people. But because, in the final analysis, we must become strong enough to stand when the crowd is gone. And if we have lived truthfully, loved generously, served faithfully and kept our relationship with God alive, perhaps being alone at the end will not frighten us. Perhaps we will discover that we were never truly alone. For the One who watched us take our first breath will be there when we take our last.

FUSEINI ABDULAI BRAIMAH
+233208282575 / +233550558008
[email protected]