TITLE: POTENTIAL IN WRONG PATH

In the quiet town of Fumai, tucked between old railway lines and dusty football fields, lived a boy named Lian. From childhood, Lian was full of energy, ideas, and potential. Everyone in the neighborhood called him “The Brain.” If a bicycle broke, Lian fixed it. If the school’s water tap leaked, Lian had a solution before the janitor arrived.

But potential, as powerful as it is, needs direction.

As Lian grew into his teenage years, he started drifting — not because he was bad, but because he felt unseen. His brilliance became a burden. Teachers expected too much, friends thought he was “too serious,” and at home, no one really asked, “Lian, how are you doing?”

So, he found a different crowd — loud, fun, wild. They smoked behind school buildings, skipped class, and laughed like nothing mattered. For the first time, Lian felt “noticed.” He could make them laugh. He could lead their jokes. He became the mastermind of mischief.

But slowly, the grades dropped. Opportunities slipped away. One evening, after being caught spray-painting a teacher’s car as a prank, Lian sat in silence at the police station. The officer on duty, an old friend of his father, looked at him and said,

"Lian, I know boys who had no potential and went far. You? You had light. You just pointed it in the wrong direction."

That night, something shifted.

It wasn’t easy, but Lian pulled back. He cut ties. He read books again. He volunteered. Years passed, and he became a youth mentor, standing before students, saying:

“Potential doesn’t mean success. It just means you’ve been given something — a spark. What you do with it is the real story.”

Moral?

You can be gifted, but when your gifts walk the wrong path, they bless no one — not even you. Turn back, if you must. It’s never too late to aim right.

© SOLOMON OLUWATIMILEYIN DAVID