Died At 25: Buried At 70 - by Letters From Delight ⁠♡♡

Some people die at 25. Not physically. Not the kind of death that causes your loved ones to drop flowers by your grave side. Not the kind that makes your family adorn themselves in black attire and swollen eyelids.It is the Emotional. Mental. Career-wise. Dream kind of death. And the painful thing is that it happens so quietly that even the people around do not notice.One day, they are children filled with curiosity, excitement, ambition, and impossible dreams. They talk endlessly about the future. They believe life is waiting for them. They believe they will become something meaningful, and maybe even be on Forbes’ list, if wishes were horses. You can see the life in their eyes. Then reality begins to happen. Responsibilities arrive. Disappointments pile up. Expectations are cut short. Society starts measuring human worth through money, status, and survival. Dreams slowly become “childish fantasies.” “I want to become a neurologist, doctor, banker, lawyer” suddenly becomes substituted with, “I’ll study whatever course.” As a Nigerian, this becomes your first reality when you reach a certain age. We are born into a system that broke our parts before we even knew we had legs. The one that kills our tomorrow before we conquered today . I mean, why wait for a tomorrow when Chimeka Garricks already prophesied to us that "tomorrow Died Yesterday".It becomes really difficult to pursue dreams when all odds are against you. This reality is heartbreaking, and could kill a person mentally at 25 even before been buried at 70.And somewhere along the line, something inside them goes silent.They still wake up every morning.Still go to work.Still laugh sometimes.Still post online.Still attend functions. Still answer “I’m fine” when asked how they are doing.But deep down, they no longer feel connected to themselves. We put on the best outfits for AMCAVA. Yet, left emotionally uncovered with carved bruises of prolonged struggles. Many people are not living anymore; they are simply continuing.That is the tragedy hidden inside adulthood that nobody prepares us for.And honestly, I do not think most people become like this because they are lazy. I think they are tired.Tired of systems built to destroy rather than empower. Of rejection, disappointments, and delayed dreams. This is why some people get to old age without ever truly living. The greatest tragedy Is life burying your spirit while your body is still breathing. Maybe being alive is more than repeating the same cycle every day. Maybe it is refusing to let disappointment permanently harden your heart. Maybe it is finding the courage to dream again even after life has embarrassed you for trying. Look for colours in the carcase. 🫶🏾

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