Once it gets to a point where it becomes a matter of life and

Hear the words of Kgalema Motlanthe, a man who rose from the struggle against apartheid to guide his nation, who warned: “Once it gets to a point where it becomes a matter of life and death to occupy a position of leadership or not, with an eye on future opportunities, therein lies the danger.” These words are both a cry of caution and a mirror held before humanity. For they remind us that true leadership is not a throne to be seized for survival, nor a prize to be clutched for ambition. When power becomes more precious than principle, when men cling to office as if it were the breath of life itself, then corruption, fear, and tyranny are born.

The essence of leadership is service, not survival. A leader is meant to stand as a shepherd for the people, guiding them through storms and sacrifice. Yet Motlanthe warns us of the peril: when holding power becomes a desperate contest, when the struggle for position overshadows the purpose of service, then both leader and nation are endangered. For in such a time, decisions are made not for justice, not for the common good, but for the preservation of one’s own place. And the people, who should be lifted, instead become pawns in the game of ambition.

History bears witness to this danger. Recall Julius Caesar, who once served Rome with brilliance as a general and statesman. But as the lust for power grew, the matter of holding leadership became indeed a matter of life and death. He crossed the Rubicon, unwilling to relinquish command, and in doing so set ablaze the Republic. The Senate fell into fear, the people into division, and Rome into civil war. What had begun as service to the state became a desperate clinging to power, and therein lay the danger that forever changed the destiny of Rome.

So too can we remember the tragedy of many African nations in the post-colonial era. Leaders who once entered office as liberators came to see leadership not as a sacred trust, but as a fortress of survival. To lose office was to lose wealth, influence, and even life itself. Thus they clung to power beyond their time, silencing rivals, crushing opposition, and betraying the very people they had promised to uplift. Motlanthe, who lived through these struggles, spoke with the authority of one who had seen this danger unfold before his eyes.

The meaning of his words is clear: a nation is safe when its leaders see themselves as servants who may come and go, leaving behind only the fruits of their labor. But a nation is imperiled when leaders see themselves as indispensable, when their seat becomes their lifeline and their office their shield. For then power ceases to serve the people and begins to serve only itself. The well of trust is poisoned, and the future darkened.

The lesson for us is profound: never make leadership the measure of your worth. Do not seek positions of power as if they were the air you breathe. Seek instead to serve, whether with title or without. When the time comes to step aside, do so with dignity, and know that true greatness lies not in clinging but in the legacy you leave behind. For the leader who knows when to depart preserves both his honor and the health of the people.

And what actions must we take? Hold leaders accountable when they cling to power beyond their season. Encourage systems that ensure smooth succession, so that leadership remains a duty, not a desperate struggle. In your own life, whether you lead a family, a team, or a community, practice the art of letting go. Serve faithfully while you are called, and when the time comes, pass the torch with grace. This is the cure for the danger Motlanthe warns of: to remember that leadership is temporary, but service is eternal.

Thus let his words endure as a warning and a guide: when leadership becomes a matter of life and death, the soul of service is lost, and danger reigns. But when leaders hold power lightly, as stewards and not as owners, then nations flourish, and the people walk in peace.