THE world expected thunderous words. Cameras were rolling, interpreters were poised, and the ears of nations were wide open. Yet, instead of rhetoric, silence took centre stage. Sometimes, silence speaks louder than the most carefully crafted speech.
Last week, at the “Better Together: 80 Years and More for Peace, Development and Human Rights” gathering in New York, global leaders once again assembled under the bright lights of the United Nations. The stage was set for yet another parade of lofty declarations.
But when Senegalese President Bassirou Diomaye Faye took the podium, an extraordinary moment unfolded. He stood, papers missing and chose silence. To some, it looked like confusion. To me, it was the most powerful statement any African leader has made in recent history.
Others may have seen hesitation, I saw deliberate intent. Why waste words when the world has proven deaf to desperate cries, wars, coups, climate injustice, economic exploitation? Faye’s silence became a mirror, reflecting the hypocrisy and indifference of an international system that condemns atrocities but does nothing to stop them.
Whether spontaneous or intentional, his silence roared with meaning. Yet, ironically, it may still change nothing. Because speeches at the UN have become ritualistic theatre. Year after year, leaders line up to condemn violence, hunger, and oppression, but the world grows darker. Wars rage unchecked.
Genocides unfold in real time. Nations collapse into famine and displacement. And what does the UN do? Issue sterile statements of “concern,” then turn the page. Empty noise masquerading as diplomacy.
President Faye’s refusal to speak was, in itself, a speech, a refusal to add one more hollow text to the heap. His silence was not weakness, it was defiance. A protest.
A reminder that the world is broken and that the so-called guardians of peace have long abdicated their responsibility. His silence echoed not just for Senegal, but for the entire Global South regions that have borne the heaviest burden of global injustice.
The tragedy is that his message will likely be dismissed. Observers may call it a slip, a youthful stumble, or a technical mishap. Yet, those who dared to listen closely heard his silence scream: The world is deaf. The UN is useless. Words have lost their meaning.
In that unsettling pause, Faye forced reflection. He showed that silence itself can be sharp enough to cut through the noise of hypocrisy. Silence, in that hall of echoes, became the loudest protest, the rawest truth. It was not emptiness; it was resistance.
President Faye’s silence reminds us of an undeniable truth: the world is lost. And if even words have lost their power in the UN chamber, then perhaps silence is the only honest speech left.
The global community should not trivialize what happened as a stumble. It should hear it for what it was: a roar.
Voice, just cleared its throat.
- Kabara is a writer and public commentator. Her syndicated column, Voice, appears on News Point Nigeria every Monday. She can be reached via hafceekay01@gmail.com.
