When you come from desperate poverty, and that's exactly what I

Hear, O sons and daughters of the struggle, the words of John Lydon, born from hardship, who declared: “When you come from desperate poverty, and that’s exactly what I come from, you know that nonsenses are not to be tolerated. I’m not sure who gains from chaos, but I know it’s not the poor folks in the council flats. The politics of vindictiveness is never, ever anything like a solution.” In this utterance lies the wisdom of one who has tasted hunger, endured cold walls, and learned that for the poor, survival leaves no room for empty games.

For desperate poverty strips away illusion. Those who dwell in council flats, or in shanties, or in the shadows of empire, know that every coin counts, every loaf of bread is a victory, and every roof is a fragile shield against despair. To such souls, the nonsenses of politics—the feuds, the games of pride, the vendettas dressed as policies—are revealed for what they are: distractions that cost the vulnerable their dignity, their chance at stability, their very lives.

History speaks of the French Revolution, when the people of Paris cried out not for revenge, but for bread. Yet in the chaos that followed, when guillotines rose and vindictiveness reigned, the poor found themselves no freer than before. The throne was gone, but hunger remained. Power changed hands, but those who suffered most gained little. Thus Lydon’s warning rings true across centuries: politics of vindictiveness yields no harvest but blood, and those in want are always the first to pay the price.

The true calling of leadership, then, is not to stir bitterness, but to seek remedies. The poor cannot eat rhetoric, nor can they clothe themselves in the ashes of revenge. What they require are homes that stand, work that sustains, and governance that steadies rather than fractures. To waste the energy of nations on chaos is to betray those whose lives hang by the thinnest thread.

Therefore, let this wisdom be preserved: those born from poverty see clearly what others forget—that life is too fragile, too sacred, to be spent on spite. The path forward lies not in vindictiveness but in justice, not in chaos but in compassion. For the measure of a society is not how it rewards the powerful, but how it lifts the least of its people. Let all leaders hear Lydon’s cry and remember: the poor do not need your quarrels—they need your care.