THE PHONES NO LONGER RING

There is a season in life when the phone will not stop ringing.
Your name trends. Your presence opens doors. Your silence is noticed.
And then—quietly, almost without warning—the season changes.
Yusuf Buhari, son of Nigeria’s late president, once shared a sobering truth about life after power. He recalled how, immediately after Goodluck Jonathan congratulated his father on winning the presidency, his phone became a public utility. Calls poured in before dawn. Old classmates resurfaced. Long-forgotten acquaintances rediscovered memories. Distant relatives suddenly remembered blood ties. Even people who had once passed briefly through the Buhari household found reasons to reconnect.
It felt like relevance had become permanent.
But power, as history constantly reminds us, is only on loan.
When his father handed over authority to Bola Tinubu, the calls thinned. After the burial, they nearly vanished. What remained were a few family members and genuine associates. The noise faded. The crowd moved on.
And then came the line that echoes far beyond one family, one presidency, one moment in history:
The phones no longer ring. Nobody truly cares.
This is not a story of bitterness.
It is a lesson.
Power attracts people, not always loyalty.
Position invites applause, not always love.
Influence creates traffic, not always friendship.
Many people confuse access with affection. They mistake attention for attachment. They assume that because the phone rings today, it will ring forever. But the truth is harsh and humbling: most people are loyal to the position, not the person.
When the title goes, the crowd disperses.
When the benefits dry up, the enthusiasm evaporates.
When the light moves, the shadows follow.
That is why wisdom teaches us to build character more than connections, values more than visibility, and purpose more than popularity.
If you are in a season where the phone rings endlessly, be grateful—but be grounded. Remember that power is temporary, applause is fickle, and relevance is seasonal. Use the moment to do good, to build bridges, to uplift others, and to plant seeds that will outlive your position.
And if you are in the season where the phone no longer rings, take heart. Silence is not failure. Quiet is not insignificance. Often, it is in the absence of noise that truth becomes clear. You discover who truly matters. You learn who walks with you without incentives. You find yourself again.
History is full of men and women who lost power but found peace. Who lost crowds but gained clarity. Who lost attention but secured legacy.
At the end of the day, it is not how many calls you receive that defines your life, but how many lives you touched when you had the chance.
Because when the lights go off, when the corridors empty, when the phones stop ringing—
what remains is who you truly are.
And that is the only call that really matters.