By Omar El Chmouri | Staff Writer

Individuals with no official posts are capable of impactfully addressing socioeconomic challenges and should do so sincerely.

Eyeing a top position is common amongst young people interested in politics. They justify it by a commitment to do good, but more often than not, it’s a red flag — Machiavellian status-seeking. To evaluate this desire, ask if this person has actively and sincerely contributed to improving people’s lives for a good period of time. If not, their promises are most probably meaningless. They’re misguided at best and hypocritical at worst. A relevant and resonant quote that comes to mind is: “The boundaries of the possible are astonishing.” You can achieve so much without being in a position of political power. Thinking otherwise is akin to imagining obstacles. 

So, ask yourself: What is a societal problem I can help fix? Am I contributing to fixing it?

Here’s a personal anecdote to demonstrate the idea in practice:

Last summer, I was invited for a cup of tea by a Syrian refugee who is a construction worker in West Beqaa. We discussed religion, politics, and socioeconomic issues. The man spoke of the impediments to enrolling his kids in a Lebanese school, how he’s asked to get their certificates from Syria for equivalence and how that would be impossible. He then voiced his admiration for how we (my family) value education, and mentioned that he’s illiterate.

That conversation was thought provoking, and my belief that being in touch with a wide range of society is vital for anyone involved in public affairs only got firmer. I went on to do some research on illiteracy in Lebanon and found out that the illiteracy rate was about 5%.This figure does not include Palestinians and Syrians though, who have even higher and more alarming rates.

While this might not seem much at first, it’s actually translated into more than a hundred thousand people. Think of all the unrealised potential, think of the countless limitations. Faced with this issue, some resort to wishful thinking: “I’ll fix this when I’m a minister”, they think. Others are hopeless defeatists (“Unfortunate, but I can’t do anything about it”), indolent (“let someone else fix it”) or arrogant elitists (“that’s their problem”).

Then there are those who proactively believe that the boundaries of the possible are astonishing. I knew which group I wanted to belong to. In view of that, I went to the man’s humble abode once again. I told his wife I can spend an hour or two with their kids before sunset at least thrice a week until I must leave for university. She happily agreed and was very grateful.

For a few weeks, I taught the four children mathematics, reading, Qur’an, and some literature and history. I gave assignments and gifts and tried my best to make our sessions engaging and conversational. It was a truly rewarding experience to all of us.

I didn’t end illiteracy or the education crisis in Lebanon, but helped offer tools that all of us should have, to four children who lived nearby. Believe me, these two aren’t as far off as you’d think.

I realised that although I’m currently incapable – as an individual – of implementing a large-scale solution to a large-scale problem, I’m perfectly capable of closing a gap that needed to be closed. And if others did the same, we’d collectively end illiteracy. This, of course, extends beyond my anecdote and illiteracy to most major socio-economic problems. All it takes to close the gap is some sacrifice and sincerity.