A Cocktail of Confidence, Humility, and Divine Reminder
Rev. Kojo Amo Asare has always sworn by the quote, “Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak and remove all doubt.” Now, when he first said it, I nodded sagely like I understood—oh yes, wise words indeed. But truth be told, I didn’t grasp the full weight of that proverb until life handed me a front-row seat to its unfolding.
Recently, I found myself in a rather spirited discussion with some acquaintances and a particular individual I held in high regard. You know the type—polished demeanor, poised presence, the kind who makes you feel smarter by mere proximity. Then he dropped a comment so wildly off the mark it shattered that illusion like a wine glass in a dramatic telenovela. Suddenly, Rev. Kojo’s quote wasn’t just wise—it was prophetic.
We humans are perpetually evolving—thanks to interactions, exposure, and the modern-day blessing (or curse?) of infinite knowledge. Sharing your opinion is perfectly fine. Encouraged, even. But here’s the caveat: being open to correction, to growth, to unlearning what we thought we knew—that’s where true wisdom lives. If you’re clinging to outdated notions with the tenacity of a toddler gripping a toy, it’s not confidence. It’s just stubbornness wearing a cloak stitched with ignorance and embroidered with mediocrity.
Now, let’s talk about me—your local sanguine-choleric hybrid. I have the expressive enthusiasm of a motivational speaker and the assertiveness of someone who thinks every group chat needs her opinion… first. Listening? That used to be a distant cousin I barely visited. But age, exposure, and the gentle humbling power of education taught me otherwise. I’ve come to believe there’s far more power in listening than in dominating a conversation.
When you listen, you don’t just learn facts—you learn people. Their word choices, their tone, how their thoughts unfold—it all paints a portrait richer than any CV could. And sometimes, listening saves you from tumbling headfirst into embarrassment.
Like that one time—brace yourself—I thought Pina Colada was a rice dish. Yes, rice. Not a tropical cocktail that makes you feel like you’re vacationing in a James Bond film. My work bestie Akyaa ordered it during a beach hangout post-training, and I, brimming with misplaced confidence, nodded knowingly. Didn’t ask. Didn’t Google. Just assumed. Spoiler alert: it was not jollof with pineapple slices. My colleagues still tease me about it, and honestly? I use that blunder as my favorite icebreaker. Nothing says “Hi, I’m human” like a story of mistaken tropical identity.
And so, I’ve learned that silence isn’t weakness—it’s wisdom in disguise. Sometimes, not knowing is the beginning of knowing better. Whether it’s mistaking a cocktail for a carbohydrate or reevaluating the people we once admired, life is always nudging us toward humility, curiosity, and growth.
So I’ve decided: I’ll keep listening more, talking less (well… most of the time), and staying curious enough to ask questions before pretending I’ve got the answers. Because grace lives in reflection, and wisdom wears the face of someone willing to say, “Maybe I got that wrong—let me learn.”
Also, for the record, Pina Colada is delicious. And no, it does not come with stew. 😄
