I don't care about age very much.

“I don’t care about age very much.” — Chinua Achebe

Thus spoke Chinua Achebe, the sage of Africa, the weaver of stories whose words awakened a continent to its own reflection. In this simple declaration lies the calm dignity of one who has measured life not by the tally of years but by the depth of meaning. When Achebe says, “I don’t care about age very much,” he does not dismiss the passage of time; rather, he rises above it. He reminds us that wisdom, vitality, and purpose are not bound by calendars or the slow turning of the seasons. To the one who walks in truth, age is not a burden — it is a vessel for experience, a rhythm in the greater song of being.

Achebe’s words were born not in idle vanity, but in the rich soil of his life’s journey. He lived through eras that reshaped his people’s destiny — from colonial shadows to independence and beyond. He saw empires fall, languages revive, and identities reborn. Through it all, he remained ageless in spirit, for his voice spoke not of one generation, but of all. His stories, from Things Fall Apart to No Longer at Ease, were not trapped in their time — they were mirrors held up to eternity. When he said he cared little for age, he was speaking as a man who had learned that purpose transcends years, and that the heart’s vigor is more enduring than the body’s youth.

To care too much for age, Achebe implies, is to be deceived by appearances. Many grow older, but few grow wiser. The young, though lacking in years, may carry the fire of insight that elders forget. The old, though slowed in step, may hold the patience and perspective the young have yet to find. Thus, age alone is no crown of virtue — it is the spirit within, not the number without, that determines greatness. Achebe, like the elders of his Igbo heritage, understood that true wisdom flows from experience transformed into understanding, not from the mere accumulation of time.

Consider the example of Nelson Mandela, who spent twenty-seven years in prison and emerged not hardened by bitterness but ripened in grace. When he walked free, he was old in years, yet young in spirit — a man whose patience, compassion, and humor seemed untouched by time. He cared little for his age, for he had learned what Achebe knew: that life’s worth is not measured in longevity but in the strength of one’s purpose. The world, obsessed with youth and decay, forgets that greatness often flowers late, like a tree that blooms only after long seasons of quiet growth.

Achebe’s indifference to age is also an act of freedom — a refusal to let society define the boundaries of worth. In many cultures, especially those touched by Western ideals, youth is idolized, and old age is seen as decline. But Achebe, rooted in the wisdom of his ancestors, rejects this notion. To him, each stage of life carries its own music: the curiosity of youth, the striving of middle age, the reflection of the elder. None is lesser than the other, for all are threads in the tapestry of human growth. To not care about age is to walk in harmony with the eternal — to see life not as a race, but as a cycle.

The lesson is clear and timeless: live fully in whatever season you find yourself. Do not measure your worth by youth’s fleeting glow or by the counting of years. Seek instead to cultivate the ageless qualities — curiosity, kindness, and courage — that make the soul immortal. Whether you are at the dawn of your journey or its twilight, your purpose still burns bright, if only you choose to tend its flame.

Practical counsel for those who would live by Achebe’s wisdom:

• Honor each stage of life as sacred; do not envy youth nor fear old age.

• Cultivate purpose over vanity; what you create, not how long you live, defines your legacy.

• Keep learning, even when the world calls you “too young” or “too old.”

• And remember: the spirit that refuses to be confined by age walks in eternal youth.

For as Chinua Achebe teaches, to live wisely is to stand outside the tyranny of time. The body may age, but the mind can remain young, and the heart — if kept humble, curious, and loving — may never grow old. So let the years come; let them pass. What matters is not how long we live, but how deeply we awaken while we are here.