Tuesday, 11 August 2026

…OF FACTICITY AND TRANSCENDENCE

We are not all born on level ground.

Some arrive in the world into affluent families, good healthcare, reliable electricity, good schools, family connections, and bank accounts that already have money in them. Others arrive where the roof leaks, the “road” disappears in the rain, and “opportunity” is something people discuss on television. One child inherits confidence. Another inherits responsibility. One grows up asking, “What do I want to become?” Another first asks, “What can we afford?”

This is facticity: the unchosen facts of our existence. Our birthplace,
parents, bodies, language, class, health, history, religion, neighbourhood, passport, and economic circumstances. Nobody chooses the opening scene. The universe simply drops us into one and expects us to display our thespian skills; and while some are blessed with producers and directors, others do not even have the luxury of a script.

Yet our beginnings are not the whole story. Human beings possess another strange capacity: transcendence. We can imagine beyond our circumstances, act within them, and sometimes transform them. Transcendence does not mean that anyone can “manifest” their way out of poverty. It is not a motivational poster with a paraphernalia of wealth as the background, it means that, within limits, we remain capable of choosing, refusing, building, and making meaning.

That tension defines much of life. We are shaped by circumstances we did not choose, but we are also responsible for what we do with the circumstances we inherit. The universe may be indifferent. Human beings cannot afford to be.

We often pretend that everyone starts from the same line. It is a convenient fiction, especially for people already halfway to the finish. But the Nigerian child born into an affluent family in a Lagos household, the child growing up in a rural community in Kano, and the child displaced by conflict in the Northeast do not receive the same introduction to possibilities. They may possess equal human worth, but they do not possess equal options. One has access to stable broadband, another shares a phone with five family members. One studies under bright lights, another reads beside a solar-powered rechargeable lamp. One dreams of becoming a doctor. Another is calculating when he must temporarily leave school to maximize the planting season as the rainy season starts. Yet when their lives produce different outcomes, we often call the difference “merit.”

Merit matters. But hoping for merit without providing access is basically blindfolding talent and sending it into a labyrinth.

This is why fairness is not a luxury. It is not decorative morality, like good ambience in a hotel lobby. Fairness is the ground beneath opportunity. It determines who gets to develop ability, recover from failure, imagine a future, participate in shaping the future, and enjoy their share in society’s commonwealth. A will needs a way to become real.

A child denied food does not lose only today’s meal. Society may lose tomorrow’s engineer, teacher, nurse, artist, farmer, or honest public servant. Scarcity does not merely reduce consumption, it narrows imagination. When people spend all their energy surviving the present, they have less energy left to design the future. We praise resilience so enthusiastically that we sometimes forget to question the conditions demanding it. We celebrate the person who succeeds “against all odds”, then behave as though the odds deserve no investigation. Even though resilience is admirable, it is not a development strategy. A society should not use the strength of its people as an excuse for the weakness of its systems.

This is where existentialism becomes more than a university discussion conducted beside a dusty bookshelf. Facticity reminds us that circumstances matter. Transcendence reminds us that circumstances are not sacred. We cannot choose where we begin, but we can choose whether inherited conditions will continue ruling over everyone who comes after us.

That responsibility begins close to home, seated in our immediate communities,  entrenched in our larger societies.

It appears when a family decides whether the girl will continue her education or be withdrawn because “she will marry anyway.” It appears when a community decides whether disability will be treated as shame or accommodated as part of human life. It appears when relatives stop describing depression as laziness and begin asking what pain might be hiding underneath. It appears in the ordinary choices we make about one another.

We are often quick to explain our own behaviour through circumstance and other people’s behaviour through character. When we are late, there was traffic. When someone else is late, they are unserious. When we fail, the economy is difficult. When another person fails, they lack discipline. We are generous interpreters of our own facticity and strict judges of everyone else’s. Perhaps moral maturity begins when we apply the same honesty in both directions. Yes, people must take responsibility for their choices. But responsibility becomes cruel when it ignores the conditions under which choices are made. Telling someone to “just leave” an uncomfortable environment without considering money, culture, safety, and other basic needs is not wisdom. Telling an unemployed graduate to “start a business” without considering capital, networks, skills, and market conditions is not a plan - t is an inspirational sentence without shoes and without wings. Freedom is real, but freedom is not evenly supplied. Some people have room to make mistakes. Others make one mistake and spend years paying dearly for it. Some can leave a bad job, a bad marriage, or a bad neighbourhood. Others remain because survival has locked the door from the outside.

If we want to speak seriously about freedom, we must care about the conditions that make freedom usable and replicable. This is where we bring in the Government, and sew the words “Responsibility and Accountability” into the seams of every garment they don.

This does not mean trying to engineer a world without difficulty. Difficulty is part of life. We will still experience grief, illness, heartbreak, disappointment, and the occasional humiliation of sending an inappropriate message to the wrong person. No system can abolish tragedy. But we can reduce the unnecessary suffering produced by indifference, neglect, prejudice, and corruption.

We must create policies that have human progress at their core. We must build and equip schools that do not punish children for being poor. We must create healthcare systems that do not turn illness into financial ruin. We must make cities safer for women, children, and people with disabilities. We must protect the elderly from becoming invisible or burdensome. We must create stable societies, and in the event of displacements, we must treat displaced people as human beings rather than inconvenient statistics. We must build communities where asking for help is not considered a confession of failure. We must build societies where people have all it takes to thrive, and not just have access to what they need to survive. These are not acts of charity. They are acts of collective self-preservation.

We like to think life is a test of character. Sometimes it is. But it is also a test of the environments we create. A society reveals itself not by how loudly it praises excellence, but by how it treats people who begin with less power, less money, less health, less protection, or less luck. The moral question is not whether everyone will end in the same place. They will not. The question is whether the road is designed to turn disadvantage into opportunity, rather than destiny.

We are born into facts. We are not born into excuses. Our circumstances explain much, but they do not absolve us from all action. The person with little power may still offer kindness, solidarity, truth, or courage. The person with influence carries a wider obligation. The person who has escaped one form of hardship should not pull up the ladder and rename the act “self-reliance.” An indifferent universe does not command us to be just. That command comes from our shared vulnerability. Most of us know what it means to need help, to be overlooked, to start behind, and to possess ability without access. We also know that the conditions of life are not entirely natural. Many are made by people, supported by people, defended by people, and therefore capable of being remade.

If the universe will not provide fairness, fairness becomes our work - imperfect, costly, political, personal, and endless, but still our work.

We are not responsible for choosing the world into which we were born. We are responsible for deciding whether the next person must suffer the same limitations merely because we have grown used to them.

That is the burden of freedom - not simply escaping our circumstances, but leaving behind a world in which fewer people are imprisoned by theirs.

Thank You!
God Bless Us All!!
See You Next Time!!!

~ SirRash