“Life Is A Comedy To Those Who Think And A Tragedy To Those Who Feel” -Anonymous
Dear Nyaaba,
I cannot agree more
Life, viewed from the African veranda, is the longest-running dark comedy in human history. Those who think laugh—not because things are funny, but because crying would require too much energy and too many tissues. Those who feel, however, are perpetually in mourning: for lost opportunities, broken promises, stolen futures, and leaders who swear oaths with one hand while picking pockets with the other.
To think, in Africa, is to develop a sense of humor so hardened it could be classified as a survival skill.
Consider the citizen who wakes up at 4:30 a.m. to “beat traffic,” only to discover that traffic woke up at 3:00 a.m. He arrives late, exhausted, and is reprimanded by a boss who arrived late himself—but in a convoy. If you feel this deeply, you will collapse into despair. If you think, you laugh and say, “At least I arrived.”
Comedy.
Or take elections. We queue for hours under the sun, standing with the devotion of pilgrims, clutching voter ID cards like holy relics. Politicians appear during campaigns speaking in tongues: free education, jobs for all, hospitals in every village. Once elected, they develop selective amnesia and an allergy to microphones. The thinking African laughs: “Ah, it is the season of promises again.” The feeling African weeps: “They lied to us again.”
Tragedy.
In Africa, corruption is no longer a crime; it is a career path. The poor man who steals a chicken is paraded, humiliated, and jailed. The official who steals billions is called “Honourable,” granted police escort, and interviewed as a statesman. Thinking people find this absurdly hilarious—like a badly written joke. Feeling people feel the full weight of the injustice and slowly rot from the inside.
Comedy for the thinkers. Funeral dirge for the feelers
Religion adds seasoning to the satire. We pray for miracles while actively sabotaging common sense. We fast for prosperity while voting against competence. We shout “God is in control” immediately after handing control to the most reckless person available. Churches are full, hospitals are empty, schools are crumbling, and pastors fly business class to preach humility.
If you think, you chuckle: “God must be very busy here.”
If you feel, you ask: “Is God even listening?”
We celebrate resilience as though it were a virtue rather than an indictment. “Africans are strong,” they say, as if strength excuses suffering. We romanticize endurance because fixing systems would require thinking—and thinking is dangerous. Feeling alone leads to rage, bitterness, or resignation. Thinking leads to laughter sharp enough to cut through despair.
The African who thinks knows this brutal truth: the system is often too ridiculous to be taken seriously. So we joke at funerals, laugh at hardship, and meme our misery. It is not insensitivity; it is self-defense.
Because if you felt everything fully—every broken road, every stolen election, every needless death, every squandered resource—you would go mad.
So yes, life is a comedy to those who think. We laugh not because life is kind, but because it is absurd. And it is a tragedy to those who feel, because Africa gives you far too much to feel and far too little relief.
The real shock is this:
Those who rule us count on our feelings.
Those who survive learn to think.
And in that thin line between laughter and tears, Africa continues—joking at the edge of the abyss, thinking just enough to stay alive.
Comically yours
The Honourrebel Siriguboy
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