The humid air of Lusaka settles over you like a heavy blanket, thick with the scent of dust and the distant hum of the city. You’re in your room, the low hum of the fluorescent lights casting long shadows on the walls. It’s late, past midnight, and the air is thick with the exhaustion that comes from pushing past your limits.
It’s been a strange week, a week filled with the relentless beat of “tap, tap, tap” – the sound of the notcoin phenomenon that has swept through your school. The fevered frenzy, the endless tapping, the desperate pursuit of digital currency – it had consumed everyone, you included. You’d finished your exams, the pressure of schoolwork momentarily lifted, and succumbed to the allure of the digital gold rush. You spent hours tapping, your fingers aching, your mind a blur of algorithms and financial gains. The promise of quick riches, of escaping the daily grind, was a siren song you couldn’t resist.
But there was a nagging feeling inside, a sense of unease that grew with each passing day. You’d always been a person of faith, a believer in the power of prayer, of seeking solace and guidance from a higher power. But somewhere along the way, the rhythm of 'tap, tap, tap' had drowned out the quiet voice within. You’d pushed aside the call for dedicated prayer, for spiritual introspection, for a deeper connection with the divine.
You remember the night vividly. You’d stayed up past two, fueled by the same insatiable desire for digital wealth that had driven you for days. But as the exhaustion finally began to win, a strange calmness descended upon you. It felt like a shift in the air, a subtle change in the atmosphere of your room. A voice, soft and clear, spoke to you, a voice you could only identify as the Holy Spirit.
“Why,” it asked, its words gentle but insistent, “why could you stay awake for hours tapping, for something you weren’t even sure would yield any fruit, but you couldn’t bring yourself to dedicate the same energy to seeking me, to strengthening your faith, to cultivating your spiritual capacity?”
The question hung in the air, heavy and accusing. You couldn’t answer. Shame washed over you, hot and suffocating. You’d been so caught up in the external world, so focused on the fleeting allure of digital riches, that you’d neglected the deeper wellspring of your own spirit.
You knew, in that moment, that you needed to make a change. You needed to reclaim the quiet space within, the space where you could hear the voice of your spirit, the space where true wealth resided. But the world outside was still loud, still echoing with the relentless “tap, tap, tap” of the notcoin frenzy.
The journey back to your core self, to the quiet space where you could hear the gentle whispers of your spirit, wouldn’t be easy. The external distractions would continue to beckon, the allure of the quick fix, of the instant gratification, would remain a constant temptation. But you knew, deep in your heart, that you had to choose differently. You had to choose the quiet space, the inner strength, the deep wellspring of faith that lay dormant within.
You had to choose to tap into a different kind of wealth, a wealth that wasn’t measured in digital currency but in the strength of your spirit, the fortitude of your belief, the enduring power of your faith.
The sun begins to rise over Lusaka, the first rays of light painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. You sit at your window, the soft glow of dawn bathing your room in a warm light. You close your eyes, and in the quiet space within, you hear a whisper: “Tap into your spirit. That is where true wealth lies.”
