A week before Ash Wednesday, I began reflecting on what I am about to share with you.
For non-Catholics who have ever wondered where the ashes come from, they are the remnants of burnt palm branches from the previous year’s Palm Sunday. In the days leading up to Ash Wednesday, parishioners are asked to return the palm fronds they took home at the start of Holy Week.
Watching this cycle unfold made me reflect on the journey of those palm branches—how they transform from a seed to a towering tree that provides shelter, palm wine, or serves in various rituals, including Palm Sunday. Then, in time, they dry up, reduced to ashes, yet still holding deep significance for those who believe.
To me, it reinforces a profound truth: every stage of life has meaning. Nothing is irrelevant, and no experience should be dismissed. Even seemingly trivial moments can be defining, shaping who we become.
That is why it is crucial to be present in every moment. This does not mean obsessively documenting everything with a pen and notepad, some lessons are simply etched in memory, waiting for the right time to resurface.
When I study, I do not expect to use everything I learn immediately. Some knowledge proves valuable in the most unexpected situations. As I picked up my dry palm frond to return to church, I was reminded of how it had been sitting there, idle, waiting for its purpose; just like reinvesting money I once saved and never needed until the right time.
Beyond the lesson in experiences, the transition from fresh palms to ashes also speaks to the relevance of people. Today, success is often defined by global influence. Even at faith-based conferences, there is an overwhelming emphasis on making an impact on the world stage. While there is nothing wrong with influence, the danger is in the narrative that frames success only as a “from <insert your village>😅 to Geneva” story.

I wrestle with this idea when I am in remote villages covering a story. There is always a bike rider navigating impossible roads, at least one person fluent in English, a small health clinic run by a lone community health worker, a barber, and others offering essential services that keep the community alive. To many, these people might seem unsuccessful, their lives lacking grand purpose. Read about the Knifar Women.
But is that true? I do not believe so.
Yet, society treats them otherwise. The world often reveres those with wealth, influence, and visibility, while looking down on those doing menial jobs. The security guard at the office, the cleaner at a public school, the roadside fruit seller—many speak to them dismissively, assuming their work is insignificant. But what if they were not there? Would we not feel the gap in their absence?
A few months ago, I was helping my niece type her assignment when she made a profound argument about the dignity of labour. She was writing on one of Paul’s epistles, specifically about how every job—no matter how lowly it seems—contributes to the functioning of society. That conversation stayed with me because she saw what many overlook: work is work, and dignity is not tied to a title.
I was reminded of this during my early days in my current role. One day, I checked out of a hotel and absentmindedly left behind some of my belongings. I only realised it when I was already far away. Someone I did not expect came through for me. He not only retrieved my things but also kept them safe until I was able to collect them.
Like a fresh palm used for Palm Sunday or a forgotten dry frond that becomes the ash for Ash Wednesday, every person, in their own way, is part of something bigger. Their contributions—though overlooked or trivalised—are vital, much like the seemingly insignificant links in the food chain that sustain life itself.
🍿 Things that I have enjoyed recently:
The other night I watched Culture Custodian’s Overnight Success, a series of conversations with some of Nigeria’s young creators and entrepreneurs.
This is splendid Johnstone. I'm a non-Catholic and I always wondered why Ash Wednesday is so significant to Catholics. Now that I'm enlightened, it makes more sense (although I always found it to be a fascinating event)
I agree with you about being present in every moment. I'm trying to be present for my friends and family, and even random people I meet on the street. Just to let them know how much value they carry. Thank you so much for this
Being present in every moment is key; it's all part of a bigger picture. Thank you, Johnstone!
Last year was my first Ash Sunday service, and I was so excited to get the ash on my forehead. But I never actually knew where the ash came from. Now I do - thanks for the insight!