The Making of the Old Prophet

Every old prophet was once a young prophet. Before he grew old in deception, he was young in truth. Before his heart was corrupted, it was clean. Before his hands became greedy, they were pure. People did not follow him by mistake — they followed him because, at first, he was good.

In the beginning, the prophet was a man of humility. He did not chase power or fame. He cared for people. He spoke with honesty. He stood on the side of justice. He was willing to suffer loss if it meant protecting the truth. Because of this, people loved him. Families opened their doors for him. Leaders welcomed him. Neighbors respected him. He was a shining light in the community.

When the prophet spoke, people listened. His words carried weight because they were true. He did not promise what he could not give. He did not demand what he did not deserve. His life was simple, yet full of wisdom. He walked with courage, even when others were afraid. He gave hope to those who were broken. He lifted the weak and guided the lost. This was the man people first came to trust.

But here is the danger: success is a test. Respect is a test. Power is a test. Many pass the test of poverty, but fail the test of wealth. Many pass the test of weakness, but fail the test of strength. The young prophet was faithful in the beginning, but the moment respect grew, his heart began to change.

It did not happen overnight. No one wakes up and suddenly becomes corrupt. It begins with small choices. The young prophet was once careful with truth, but soon he began to twist it just a little — not too much, just enough to gain advantage. He once spoke to serve the people, but then he began to speak to serve himself. He once gave freely, but then he started asking for rewards. His heart began to desire more than he needed. Pride began to whisper in his ear, “You are important. You are greater than the others. You deserve more.”

The people did not see these small changes. They were blinded by his past goodness. They remembered how he helped them before, so they assumed he was still the same man. They told themselves, “He is the prophet we trust. He cannot be wrong.” But slowly, the young prophet was walking into darkness.

He began to enjoy the praise of men more than the approval of God or truth. He began to love gifts more than service. He began to silence his conscience whenever it cried out. And with every compromise, he grew stronger in lies and weaker in truth. By the time he became the old prophet, he was a different man altogether — but the crowd did not know it.

This is how the old prophet is made: First, he does good. Then, people trust him. After trust comes influence. After influence comes power. Then pride enters. Then greed grows. Then corruption takes over. But the people remain blind because they are living in yesterday. They see him as who he once was, not who he is now.

The making of the old prophet is the story of many leaders in history. Great kings who started with justice but ended with oppression. Teachers who began with passion but ended with laziness. Parents who once cared but later abandoned their children. Pastors who once preached truth but later sold it for money. Politicians who once served but later betrayed their people.

The tragedy is not only the fall of the prophet — the greater tragedy is the blindness of the people. If the people could see the change, they would walk away. But they refuse to open their eyes. They say, “He was once a good man. He cannot change.” But the truth is, everyone can change — for good or for evil. The old prophet is living proof.

The making of the old prophet is not a mystery. It is a slow journey, step by step, from light to darkness. And unless people are awake, they will always find themselves following a man who is no longer the person they think he is.

David Waithera

Author . Poet. Playwright. Ethics Thinker · Storyteller.

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