The Narratives – Mohamed Miah

When asked what trait I value most about myself, the answer comes easily: empathy. In a world that often feels cold and divided, empathy is what keeps me grounded. It’s the trait that makes me care deeply about the people around me and stand against injustice in all its forms.

I can’t stand seeing others being oppressed or treated unfairly. Bullies, those who put others down to elevate themselves, are at the core of what I despise. But my empathy goes beyond just opposition to wrongs—I actively seek to uplift those who might be struggling. Whether it’s a simple pep talk or offering encouragement, I like to support people, putting my arm around them when required, so they feel heard and understood. Everyone needs a moment where they feel like someone is standing with them, and I take that responsibility seriously.

For me, charity isn’t just about giving money; it’s about the intention behind every act of kindness. It’s about making a difference, whether small or large. It could be a prayer for the needy, donating to a cause, or simply offering my time and support to those who need it. The world is full of people going through unseen struggles, and I believe it’s our duty as human beings to help in any way we can.

Recently, though, there’s been an unsettling shift in how society views empathy. Some label it ‘woke,’ claiming that people only act out of kindness for the warm, fuzzy feeling they get in return. This is a dangerous, fake narrative spun by right-wing commentators whose only concern is hoarding wealth and maintaining power. They don’t care about the suffering of others, and they mock those of us who do by calling us ‘too righteous.’

But here’s the truth: I don’t help others to feel good about myself, and I certainly don’t do it for approval. Empathy is about recognising the humanity in others. It’s about looking beyond your own life and seeing the struggles of someone else. I have no desire to live in a world where helping others is seen as a weakness or where the vulnerable are left to fend for themselves.

What I’ve come to realise is that empathy has to extend even to those who might have done wrong themselves. Even if a bully is being bullied or an oppressor finds themselves oppressed, I would still help them. Why? Because I don’t believe in retribution or vengeance. Everyone, no matter their past, deserves help and a chance to change. When we start picking and choosing who deserves empathy based on their actions, we lose the very essence of what it means to be compassionate. It doesn’t mean we excuse their behaviour—it means we offer them a path towards redemption. That, to me, is far more powerful than seeking vengeance.

Empathy is about seeing the bigger picture. It’s about realising that we are all interconnected, that no one gets through life alone. The cynics of the world may mock us, call us ‘woke’ or ‘too righteous,’ but I would much rather live in a world where kindness and compassion are at the forefront of our actions. If being ‘woke’ means caring about others, then I wear that label with pride.

My legacy, if I have one to leave behind, is that I did my best to make others’ lives better, even if only in small ways. I don’t care if people call it righteousness or naivety. What matters to me is that when my time comes, I know I stood up for what was right, that I chose empathy over indifference, and that I did my part in making the world a little kinder.

So, yes, call me woke. I’d rather live with empathy, helping those who need it, than live in a world where indifference reigns. In the end, kindness is the only thing that truly matters, and it’s the legacy I’m proud to embrace.