The Great Awakening
I will never forget the day I stood atop Table Mountain, suspended between earth and sky, with clouds swirling beneath my feet like a living sea. It wasn’t just a view—it was a confrontation with something far greater than myself. The wind whispered through the rocks, the sun painted the horizon in gold, and for a moment, the noise of life fell silent.
Looking out over Cape Town, I saw more than a city—I saw the resilience of people who had turned what could have been dismissed as a barrier into a beacon. The locals hadn’t bulldozed the mountain to make room for progress. They had embraced it, honoured it, and built around it with reverence. That struck me deeply. It was a quiet rebellion against the idea that nature must bend to human ambition.
As I sat there, high above the world, something shifted inside me. The sheer scale of creation—the artistry of it all—made it impossible to believe this was random. I felt small, yes, but not insignificant. I felt designed. Intended. And with that came a sobering realisation: if I am not an accident in creation, then I must be accountable. I must live deliberately.
I whispered to myself, almost like a vow: “There must be a Master Creator. And if I’m part of this masterpiece, then I have a role to play. I cannot afford to drift through life. I must live with purpose, with impact. Because if I leave this world emptier than I found it, then maybe it was better I was not created at all.”
Reflectintrospection
The three hours on the mountain didn’t just inspire me—it unsettled me. It challenged my comfort, my complacency, my excuses. It reminded me that legacy isn’t built in grand gestures, but in the quiet choices we make every day. And that, the world doesn’t need more noise—it needs more light.
If we leave the world untouched by our presence, then we were mere visitors, not contributors because purpose isn’t found in comfort but unearthed in the tension between what is and what could be.
Nature doesn’t ask for permission to be majestic—it simply is. Maybe we should learn from that because when creation speaks, it doesn’t whisper—it roars with beauty, daring us to believe we are part of something divine, not an accident but an assignment. This realisation should make all excuses lose their power.
We are not here to merely exist but to echo the intention of our Creator. Comfort is the enemy of impact. We cannot change the world from a padded seat. The mountain wasn’t an obstacle—it was a mirror. If we are not disturbed by the thought of leaving the world worse than we found it, then we haven’t truly awakened.
Serenity Prayer
Dear Creator of wonders,
grant us clarity to see purpose in everything, courage to live fulfilled, and grace to leave the world better than we found it. Amen





Thanks Prof for this nice write up. Courage and resilience break barriers.