“Ba wanda ke da talauci ake kiran dan uwa sosai” (“No one calls the poor man a relative too often”) – Hausa Proverb
Let’s be honest for a moment. Have you ever sat in a family gathering where someone suddenly starts claiming ties to a person who just made it big — maybe landed a top job, built a house, or got a political appointment? You watch them laugh the loudest, talk the proudest, and act like they’ve always been close. But deep down, you know — they were silent before. Maybe you’ve been on the receiving end of that silence.
By Abubakar Abdullahi el-Kurebe
It’s a sad truth we don’t talk about enough: poverty makes people invisible, and money makes them family.
Many of us from humble backgrounds have felt this sting. It’s not that your extended family doesn’t exist — it’s just that they rarely show up when your name carries no weight. But the moment you start to shine — even just a little — suddenly, long-lost “relatives” emerge from nowhere. People who never called, never cared, now claim you. Not because you’ve changed, but because your circumstances did.
Take a look at Comrade Yakubu Garba, now Deputy Governor of Niger State. Before his rise, how many people openly supported or celebrated him? But today, his name rolls off tongues like he’s everyone’s brother. This isn’t about him — it’s just how society works. We chase after success. But the question is: should recognition only come after reward?
To be fair, it’s not always malice or jealousy. Sometimes, it’s how we’ve been conditioned. We’re taught to notice what glitters. And in a world where worth is often tied to wealth, many beautiful souls go unseen simply because they haven’t “arrived.”
That mindset is dangerous. It’s quietly hurting our communities, especially our youth. Young people start to believe that until they “make it,” they won’t matter. Not to their family, not to their elders, not even to their peers. It creates pressure. It breeds performance over purpose. And it slowly breaks the bonds that are supposed to hold us together — love, support, shared humanity.
But this truth isn’t here to discourage you. It’s here to wake us up.
Yes, pursue success. Get that promotion. Build your dream. But do it not just to be seen, not just to be heard — do it so you can lift others. So you can open the doors that they once shut in your face. So you can turn your visibility into someone else’s validation.
And when you finally “arrive,” don’t forget the silent seasons. Remember who stood by you — and who didn’t. But don’t carry bitterness. Carry wisdom. Be the relative you once needed. Recognize those still finding their way. Encourage the ones still in the shadows.
Because real success isn’t just when your name trends — it’s when your character leads, when your impact echoes, and when your journey inspires others to believe that their time, too, will come.
So, let’s change the narrative.
Let’s value people before they have power.
Let’s love relatives before they’re rich.
Let’s see people for who they are, not just for what they’ve become.
Abubakar is a professional librarian, communicator, and community advocate from Shiroro, Niger State. He works in youth development, information management, and grassroots empowerment.
