It is with obedience to your call that I take up the burden of

The words of Ratu Sir Kamisese Mara — “It is with obedience to your call that I take up the burden of government leadership for the final time” — are spoken with the gravity of a man who understood that leadership is not privilege, but sacrifice. In this sentence lies the quiet nobility of service — the surrender of self to the needs of a people. It is the language not of ambition, but of duty; not of pride, but of faithfulness. Like the great elders of old who bore the weight of their tribes upon their shoulders, Mara speaks as one who hears not his own desire, but the call of his nation, and responds with humble strength, even when the journey nears its end.

In the spirit of the ancients, the word obedience here is not weakness — it is reverence. To obey the call of the people, of history, or of destiny itself, is to recognize that the leader is not the master, but the servant of a greater will. Mara, the founding father of Fiji, stood as a bridge between the old world and the new — between the traditions of his ancestors and the dawn of independence. His leadership was not seized but entrusted; not proclaimed, but accepted as a burden. He understood that to lead well, one must first learn to listen — to the voice of the land, to the heart of the people, to the whisper of conscience.

In his statement, Mara also reveals the weight of finality — “for the final time.” There is no boast in this, only solemn reflection. Every true leader knows that there comes a day when the torch must be passed, when the burden that once gave purpose becomes too heavy to bear. But even in laying it down, he carries it with dignity. He reminds us that leadership is not about clinging to power, but about fulfilling one’s duty until the last breath, and then yielding to time. It is a sacred rhythm, like the cycle of the tide — the leader rises to serve, then withdraws so that others may rise in turn.

Consider the story of Cincinnatus, the Roman farmer who was called from his plow to defend his country. He accepted the dictatorship with reluctance, led his armies to victory, and when peace was restored, returned to his field. He sought no crown, no tribute, no empire — only the peace of conscience that comes from answering one’s duty. Like Mara, Cincinnatus obeyed the call of service, not ambition. Their spirits are kindred across centuries: both understood that true greatness lies in humility, and that to lead without attachment is to serve purely.

There is also a sacred undertone in Mara’s words — the sense that leadership, when rightly understood, is a burden offered to the divine. To take up that burden “in obedience” is to walk the path of stewardship, not dominion. The leader becomes like the shepherd of ancient scripture, whose duty is to protect, to guide, and to lay down his life for the flock if need be. This is not the leadership of conquest, but of care. It is born of compassion, and it ends in peace.

Yet Mara’s reflection also carries a quiet warning to all future leaders: that power untempered by humility leads only to ruin. The burden of leadership must be carried with conscience, for the crown that glitters too brightly blinds the soul that wears it. In his time, Mara faced the storms of division and political upheaval, yet even when challenged, he responded not with vengeance, but with dignity. His example teaches that leadership, if it is to endure, must be rooted in service, not self.

The lesson, then, is timeless: to lead is to obey — to obey the call of one’s people, the laws of justice, and the quiet summons of conscience. Those who lead for glory will fade, but those who lead for duty will live on in the memory of generations. When the moment comes to take up the burden, take it not for gain but for gratitude; and when the time comes to lay it down, do so with peace in your heart, knowing you have served well.

Therefore, let all who hear these words remember: the final burden of leadership is not to rule, but to serve. To answer the call with obedience is to walk the same sacred path as the prophets, warriors, and builders of nations who came before. Walk it with courage, bear it with honor, and when your time ends, leave behind not the memory of your power, but the legacy of your service — for that is the true crown of every noble soul.