TL;DR
Most of us dream of a life of comfort: good food, a safe home, a peaceful routine. There is nothing wrong with comfort itself. The problem begins when comfort becomes our main god and citizenship becomes an optional hobby.
Comfort says, “Protect yourself.” Citizenship says, “Protect others, even when it hurts.” My own life, from the Sobat River to Juba, from war years to long queues in government offices, keeps teaching me that nations are not built by people chasing soft pillows.
They are built by citizens who choose honesty, responsibility, and sacrifice in small daily decisions. Comfort can be sweet, but if too many people worship it, everyone loses both comfort and country in the end.
When Comfort Was My Greatest Dream
When I was a boy along the Sobat River, my dream was simple and very local.
I wanted a few fat cows.
I wanted a good wife.
I wanted enough food in the granary and shade under a tree.
In my imagination, life would be like a long afternoon nap. Children playing nearby. Cows in the distance. No worries beyond the next meal. Even mosquitoes, I thought, would respect my comfort and avoid biting me.
Then life arrived with its rough hands.
War came. Hunger came. Corruption, broken promises, displacement. The dream of quiet comfort met the reality of a painful country. I began to see something important. Comfort alone does not build roads, heal wounds, or protect anyone’s future.
Comfort feels good. Citizenship does good.
Comfort Is Sneaky And Sounds Reasonable
Comfort does not knock on your door wearing a villain’s mask. It comes dressed as reasonable excuses.
“Why should I vote? My single ballot will not change anything.”
“Why should I pay taxes honestly when people in power are stealing more than I will ever see?”
“Why should I join a community clean up when I could rest or scroll my phone?”
Comfort sounds wise in the moment. It offers quick relief. But it steals quietly.
Take bribery. You pay a small bribe to get your document signed faster. You go home early and feel clever. Yet each bribe tightens the chains of corruption that slow everything down for everyone, including you the next time.
That is the trap. Comfort gives short sweetness and long bitterness.
My Brother’s Hard Choice: Citizenship Before Comfort
In 1989, my elder brother stood in front of a choice.
He could have stayed home, looked after cattle, married, and lived a normal village life. War was dangerous. Staying was safer. Comfort was available.
Instead, he left for the battle of Nasir. He walked into danger for something bigger than his own safety. He believed South Sudan deserved a chance at freedom.
He never came back.
His empty spot in the family still hurts. Yet his decision keeps talking to me. He did not die chasing comfort. He died acting as a citizen. His life teaches me that history remembers those who choose the harder road for others.
Not all of us are called to fight in a physical war. But all of us face this question in our own way: will I live only for myself, or will I live as a citizen?
Everyday Citizenship: The Quiet Side Of Nation Building
Not every act of citizenship is dramatic. Many of them look boring and small.
Standing in line without bribing someone to skip ahead.
Paying taxes even when nobody is watching.
Joining a community meeting and staying awake.
Mentoring a young person when you would rather relax.
Voting carefully, not along tribal lines, but with the future in mind.
On the surface, these actions give you no medal. Sometimes they even cost you time, energy, or money.
But they are the daily bricks of national development. Comfort is always looking for a shortcut. Citizenship is willing to walk the full distance.
My Own Wrestling With Comfort
I wish I could say I always choose citizenship. I do not.
There was a time when our community had a meeting about water distribution. I knew it was important, but that day there was a football match I wanted to watch. Comfort whispered, “You can go next time. Today you relax.”
I chose the match.
Later a water shortage came. People in our area already knew the plan. I did not. I was the first to complain. My neighbours laughed at me.
“John, if you had come to the meeting, you would know why this is happening and what to do.”
That day I realised something painful. Comfort feels private, but its consequences are public.
There have also been moments when I chose citizenship.
Waiting six hours in a government office and resisting the urge to offer a bribe.
Paying my dues even when my income felt too small.
Speaking against unfair practices and losing the favour of those who wanted silence.
None of that felt comfortable. My stomach complained. My emotions complained. But those choices built inner peace and a small measure of trust with those who watched.
Comfort builds soft chairs. Citizenship builds strong character.
You might also like: The Ultimate Guide to Political Journalism: Ethics, Challenges, and Impact in the Modern World
Football, Passing The Ball, And National Defeat
Think of a football match.
If every player decides to shine alone, dribbling without passing, what happens? No real teamwork. No goals. Just tired legs and wasted chances.
That is what a nation looks like when people choose comfort over citizenship. Everyone “dribbles” for themselves. Inflate their own comfort. Ignore the team.
Citizenship is passing the ball when someone else has a better chance to score. You may not be the hero on the poster, but the team wins.
Comfort is holding the ball because sharing is hard. In the end, the team loses, and you go home with a clean shirt but no victory.
Comfort Is Addictive
Comfort works like sugar. One sweet taste invites another.
“I will skip voting just this once.”
“I will ignore this corruption report; someone else will handle it.”
“I will let others clean the street; I am busy.”
Soon these “small” decisions join together. They become personal habits, then family habits, then community habits. A whole culture can form around avoiding effort.
Countries do not fall in one day. They sink slowly, one comfortable excuse at a time.
Learning Citizenship At Home
My training in citizenship did not start in a classroom. It started in the compound with a broom in my hand.
When I complained about sweeping, my father gave me a line that has never left me.
“If you cannot sweep the compound well, how will you ever lead people?”
That was his style. Simple, sharp, and honest.
For him, citizenship began with the work in front of you. Clean your space. Respect others. Tell the truth. Do not cheat. These are small lessons at home, but they grow legs and walk into public life. A child who learns responsibility at home is less surprised by responsibility as an adult.
Parents who cheat and lie in small matters teach their children that comfort is more important than honesty. Parents who choose the harder right over the easy wrong are silently teaching citizenship.
Citizenship Beyond Borders
Citizenship also has a global side now.
Today, what I do in Juba or along the Sobat River can affect someone in another country. When I waste resources, someone else loses. When I spread false information online, people I will never meet may act on it. When I act with integrity, that honesty can travel wider than I imagine.
Global citizenship does not cancel local loyalty. It adds another circle of responsibility. It asks, “If everyone on earth acted like me in this area, would the world be better or worse?”
Choosing The Harder Road
At the end of each day, the question returns:
Will I choose comfort or citizenship?
Comfort offers quick rewards: extra sleep, a little saved money, less conflict.
Citizenship offers slower rewards: trust, stability, and a future where your children do not need to fight the same battles.
Comfort asks, “What is in it for me today?”
Citizenship asks, “What is in it for us tomorrow?”
A nation is not a hotel where we pay a small fee and demand service. A nation is a home we build together, one brick and one choice at a time.
My brother’s grave, my father’s broom, the long queues, the taxes, the skipped matches, the meetings attended and the meetings missed, all keep asking me the same thing:
Do you want to be comfortable only, or do you want to be a citizen?
If you would like to know more about my path as a writer, including the struggles, lessons, and small signs of progress along the way, you can read the full story on my Wealthy Affiliate blog here: https://my.wealthyaffiliate.com/johnmaluth/blog
Reflection Questions
- When was the last time you chose personal comfort over responsibility for your community or nation?
- How do your small daily choices help or harm the future of your country?
- Who in your life has modeled real citizenship, and what did their example teach you?
- What short term comforts are you willing to sacrifice so that long term national growth becomes possible?
- If everyone in your country behaved like you do today, what would your nation look like in ten years?
FAQS
Q1: Does choosing citizenship mean I must reject all comfort in life?
A: No. There is nothing wrong with rest, good food, or a simple life. The problem comes when comfort becomes your main guide. Citizenship asks you to be willing to give up comfort when it clashes with what is right for the community.
Q2: What is the point of small acts of citizenship if leaders are corrupt?
A: Small honest acts create personal integrity and local trust. They also make corruption harder to hide. While leadership matters, citizens who refuse to support corrupt systems slowly change what is tolerated. Change often begins from the ground up.
Q3: How can young people practice citizenship if they have little power or money?
A: Young people can keep public spaces clean, tell the truth, refuse to cheat in exams, help others learn, use social media responsibly, and vote when eligible. These choices shape future leaders and future culture.
Q4: How do I avoid burnout while choosing responsibility over comfort?
A: Balance is important. Rest is also part of good citizenship, because tired and bitter people do not serve well. Set clear limits, choose a few key areas to focus on, and allow yourself time for renewal so that your service remains sincere.
Q5: How can parents teach citizenship to their children in daily life?
A: Parents can involve children in small household tasks, explain why rules matter, admit their own mistakes, keep promises, and talk openly about honesty and service. Children learn more from what they see at home than from what they hear in public speeches.
