Power expires. Friendships shouldn’t

By Kwame Sowu There is something profoundly disturbing about people who occupy fixed-term public offices or privileged corporate positions and suddenly develop amnesia about the relationships that existed before their appointments. The phone numbers remain, but the friendships disappear. People who once shared ideas, dreams and ambitions are suddenly considered too ordinary to associate with.

Friends in entrepreneurship are ignored. Calls go unanswered. Requests for modest assistance are treated as personal inconveniences. Some even become unnecessarily arrogant, as though their appointments have permanently elevated them into another species. How foolish! Have we not learnt that appointments end? Governments change. Retirement comes. Contracts expire.

Political fortunes reverse. The same corridors of power that once welcomed you will eventually become unfamiliar territory. The security detail disappears, the official vehicle is withdrawn, the privileges evaporate and suddenly, the world becomes remarkably quiet. Then comes the desperate scrolling through old contacts. You begin searching for people whose calls you once ignored.

You remember friends whose businesses you could have helped nurture. You suddenly rediscover relationships you abandoned when you thought your position made you important. My intention is not to curse anyone. It is a caution. Never confuse the office you occupy with the person you are. An appointment is a temporary privilege, not a personal inheritance.

The position is yours only for a season. The people you meet along the way are part of your permanent journey. If you have friends building businesses, creating jobs and developing ideas, help them where you legitimately can. Open doors. Share opportunities. Make introductions. Support enterprise. Do so ethically, transparently and without abusing your office.

You do not have to compromise your integrity to be a good friend. One day, you will leave that office. When you do, may you leave with your dignity intact, your conscience clear and enough genuine friendships to remind you that you mattered beyond your title. Power is borrowed. Humanity is permanent.