A Quiet Morning Near A Hive.
It’s a quiet morning in Winneba, the air fresh after a light rain, flowers nodding in the breeze. Nearby, a beehive buzzes with purpose—workers and soldiers all serving the queen’s colony. Our human world mirrors this with people slotted into roles as teachers, traders, CEO busily keeping society’s engine running. Like bees, we’re driven by a need for purpose, but our hive is messier, most of the time full of ambition and possibility. Can we climb from worker to leader, maybe even president, to make a real difference? Or are we, like bees, stuck in a system built to keep us in place?
In the beehive, every bee has a job. As a worker, soldier or queen and they stick to it. can switch paths. As human beings, we are fluid and the shopkeeper can study, hustle, and land in parliament. Social mobility is our edge one which is fueled by education, grit, or luck. But economics complicates things by telling us that wealth concentrates at the top, and the climb feels like wading through honey, sticky. Psychologically, we’re wired to chase status, yet the system often rewards those already near the queen’s chamber. The ones born on hills, our elders say, experience little difficulty attaining great heights. Still, stories of ordinary folks like a teacher turned Member of Parliament, a nurse shaping policy can all prove you can break through and impact lives.
Becoming a president or parliamentarian isn’t just a title; it’s a chance to save lives, from pushing healthcare reforms to tackling poverty. But it’s not the only way. A doctor saving patient or a community leader organizing aid can shift the hive’s rhythm. Buddhist teachings nudge us toward inner purpose over status, while Rastafarian ideals reject the system’s grind, urging us to live authentically.
A rat in the hive.
The rat race, that frantic chase for wealth and power, tempts us all. It’s loud, promising freedom but often delivering stress, like a bee stinging and losing itself. You know a bee dies after it stings right? A killer kiss, I guess. The focus should be on what lasts, helping others, building something meaningful. They say, “The true meaning of life is to plant trees under whose shade you do not expect to sit.” Whether you’re leading a nation or a classroom, it’s the lives you touch that count, not the crown you wear.
Is it worth aiming high? Sure, if your heart’s in it. A president can steer a nation, but so can a teacher shaping minds or a nurse saving lives. The bee’s life—fixed, fleeting—shows us what we’re not: humans can evolve, adapt, and choose. Unlike the bee, whose sting ends its story, our actions can endure without breaking us. The human hive rewards those who dare to move beyond their role, but it doesn’t demand you reach the top to matter.
So, whether you’re 19, plotting your future, or 40, swapping stories with friends, know this: the hive is yours to navigate. You can be the worker building quietly, the soldier fighting for change, or the leader redefining the system. Ghana’s flowers will bloom again, and so will your chance to make a mark. Pick your role, not for glory, but for the good you can do. The hive hums on, and you’re part of its pulse.
