By Abdoulie Mam Njie
When experience replaces illusion, what remains is not bitterness but quiet wisdom. There comes a point in life when nothing surprises us anymore.
This does not mean we have grown cynical. It means we have seen enough to understand the patterns of human behaviour, the rise and fall of good intentions, the shifting faces of power, and the familiar repetition of promises unkept. That is the maturity of disillusionment, a quiet awareness that grows not from bitterness but from wisdom.
There is a popular song by the Ivorian artiste Tiken Jah Fakoly that captures this feeling with piercing simplicity: “Plus rien ne m’étonne,” meaning “nothing surprises me anymore”. The words echo across generations, from the streets to the offices, from the market stalls to the classrooms. They express not defeat but awakening, the voice of one who has seen too much to be naïve yet still refuses to surrender hope.
Many of us have reached that stage where promises no longer impress, where flattery no longer flatters, and where the masks of pretense no longer deceive. We have learned that not everything that glitters is gold and not every voice that shouts change truly seeks it. It is the sobering understanding that speeches do not build nations; values do. Titles do not earn respect; conduct does. Power does not create character; it reveals it.
This stage of awareness comes with time, scars, and reflection. It is the moment when we stop expecting perfection from others because we finally understand the imperfections in ourselves.
We begin to see that leaders, like ordinary citizens, are shaped by their choices and that societies reflect the moral fibre of their people. The wise no longer argue endlessly about who is right but instead focus on what is right.
Tiken Jah Fakoly’s song resonates beyond its melody. It is a mirror held up to society, reminding us that disappointment is the price we pay for misplaced trust and that maturity lies not in anger but in acceptance. When nothing surprises us anymore, we begin to see clearly the difference between performance and principle, between popularity and purpose.
This understanding is not resignation. It is the beginning of renewal. When illusions fade, truth becomes visible. We start to appreciate the quiet acts of integrity that go unnoticed: the teacher who still shows up prepared despite low pay, the nurse who stays late to comfort a patient, the honest civil servant who resists a bribe, the young graduate who chooses dignity over shortcuts. These are the unsung heroes who hold a nation together when the noise of politics grows too loud.
The danger of constant disappointment is that it can breed indifference. But the challenge of maturity is to remain engaged without becoming bitter, to keep faith in goodness even when deceit seems to prevail. It is to remember that cynicism changes nothing, while quiet integrity changes everything. Wisdom is not loud; it is steady. It does not promise miracles but insists on small acts of honesty, day after day.
When nothing surprises us anymore, we become better listeners. We learn to look beyond the headlines and the speeches to the quiet realities that shape people’s lives. We understand that progress is not about grand announcements but about consistency, patience, and humility. We realise that hope, though tested, must never die, for it is the light that survives every storm.
Perhaps this is the true gift of disillusionment. It frees us from naïveté without hardening our hearts. It allows us to serve without applause, to care without calculation, and to believe without blindness. It teaches us that endurance is also a form of strength, and that the most profound revolutions often begin within the human conscience.
In the end, when nothing surprises us anymore, what remains is clarity. We may no longer be astonished by the failures of men, but we can still be inspired by their capacity to rise again. We may no longer be moved by promises, but we can still be guided by principles. The world may not always meet our expectations, but that should not stop us from living by our convictions.
When nothing surprises anymore, it is not the end of faith; it is the beginning of wisdom. It is the calm after the storm, when one finally sees that truth, humility, and perseverance will outlast every illusion.
