Right from the creation of mankind, the notion of “Forgiveness” has been paramount which enables remission of wrongs, mostly once there is admission of such misdemeanours. It simply means one has to let go to go on, so as to unburden one’s self and move on.
Forgiveness unburdens the heart and the mind in general, creates room for free flow in ones thinking. Most people who carry on and sail smoothly through their days, are those who let go of the hurts done to them and in the process, move on writes Charity Ikennwa.
Just come to the summit of it. What we term “Forgiveness” can be misconstrued in so many ways. It’s a word that is usually said than expressed most times. But faraway from it, there are so much attached to it than have been thought about.
Forgiveness is a virtue, it is a pledge, it is a desire to let go off some issues to bare the mind of some burdens that are considered irrelevant, so as to set the heart and the mind free in most instances.
Researches and analysis have proven that most causes of High Blood Pressure, (HBP) cases are linked to cumulative thoughts over wrongs done to them. Sometimes, such individuals get depressed and resort to suicide, even when they do not care to realise how much it will take to forfeit some form of same burden they carry against there trangressors.
To forgive is not to forget; it is to refuse to let pain become your personality.”
Every day, people step out of their homes for work, celebrations, holidays, or simple errands, fully convinced they will return. Most times, they do. Sometimes, they don’t. Death does not give notice. It does not respect plans, apologies, or unfinished conversations. It simply arrives. This reality makes forgiveness not optional, but urgent.
Yet many of us live as if time is endlessly negotiable. We stockpile anger, rehearse grudges, and postpone reconciliation, telling ourselves, “I’ll deal with it later.” Later, sadly, does not always come.
I was reminded of this truth through my friend Ivy.
She called me from Uyo, crying so hard she could barely speak. Her closest girlfriend had died the night before. What shattered Ivy was not only the loss, but the silence that had stood between them. They were not on good terms. A small misunderstanding had grown into distance.
The painful irony was this: on the very day her friend reached out seeking peace, Ivy refused to listen. She turned forgiveness away. That same day, her friend died.
Now Ivy lives with memories, remorse, and a question that has no answer: What if I had forgiven her?
Another story that lingers is Tayo’s.
During the hardest years of his marriage, when he and his wife struggled deeply, his siblings mocked and abandoned him. They even labeled them barren. This was painful, especially because Tayo had once supported those same siblings financially while living abroad.
Years later, one of them, Adekunle, came pleading for help over a serious health condition. Tayo refused to open his heart. The wounds were still raw. Forgiveness felt undeserved.
Adekunle died days later.
Today, Tayo bears a regret heavier than all the insults he once endured. The bitterness he held onto did not protect him; it imprisoned him.
Anger is a debt you keep paying for a wrong you did not commit.”
In just the last few days, life itself has been delivering this lesson with painful consistency. The journalism profession alone has lost over ten of its members to sickness and accidents. Colleagues who were vibrant, working, planning stories, and chasing deadlines are suddenly gone. Beyond journalism, several notable Nigerians have also passed away this December, reminding us again that death plays no favorites.
Even more heartbreaking are incidents involving people who only came to celebrate life. A tragic fire recently claimed the lives of individuals who had just returned to the country to reconnect with home.
Similarly, an accident involving people close to boxing champion Anthony Joshua claimed the lives of his two friends, Sina and Latz, who had visited Nigeria to spend the Yuletide. They came with joy. They left in silence.
“Bitterness is carrying a coffin on your head while the dead is already buried.”
These are not distant stories. They are warnings. Nobody knows whose name death will call next, whose phone will ring with devastating news, or whose apology will come too late.
Forgiveness does not deny pain. It does not excuse wrongdoing. And it does not always mean rebuilding broken relationships. Forgiveness is first an act of self-preservation.
I am personally inclined to forgive, sometimes even before an apology comes. Some call it weakness. I call it strength. It takes courage to be wounded and still choose peace. It takes discipline to refuse to let bitterness reshape your character.
“Forgiveness does not change the offender; it changes the prisoner who was you.”
I recently witnessed the damage unforgiveness causes at a public event. Two former friends, now bitter enemies, were present. As one spoke, the other sat seething—hissing, discrediting, radiating anger. The tension was obvious. Their unresolved conflict polluted the entire atmosphere. That is the nature of unforgiveness: it never stays private. It spills into rooms, relationships, and communities.
This is why forgiveness is also about coexistence. A society burdened by grudges cannot know peace. Families divided by pride cannot heal. Nations fractured by unresolved anger cannot move forward.
“The strongest hearts are not those that never bleed, but those that heal without revenge.”
Life is fragile. Death is certain. What remains uncertain is whether we will have another chance to say “I’m sorry,” “I forgive you,” or “Let us make peace.”
Forgive, not because people always deserve it, but because your peace does. Forgive because tomorrow is not promised. Forgive because bitterness is too heavy a burden to carry into an uncertain future.
Forgiveness may not rewrite yesterday, but it gives tomorrow a fighting chance.
End.
