The Lost Memory

By Francisco Moreira — I am only The Apprentice

Once upon a time, there was a man devoted to inner knowledge. His voice was sought to guide and illuminate the paths of others, yet within his own home harmony never fully settled. Arguments, silences, and constant tension followed him like a shadow. He knew much, yet something essential within him remained unfocused.

One day, Life —that voice that appears only when one is ready to truly listen— called him and placed in his hands three virtues capable of transforming any destiny: tranquility, happiness, and stability. Life instructed him to proclaim them in that exact order every time he entered a new place. They would be his introduction, his foundation, his protection. And to ensure he would not fail, Life offered the simplest of advice: write it down.

But he trusted his memory…
far too much.

He believed he would never forget what he had been given. He decided his mind was enough. And so, he left the teaching in the hands of memory—
the place where everything becomes distorted.

Time passed, war arrived, and betrayal was born even within his own house. He was forced to flee, to seek a new beginning in distant lands. Wherever he introduced himself, people asked what he could offer… and he answered.
Yet he answered in reverse.

He proclaimed disquiet, unhappiness, and instability.

He did not know why doors closed.
He did not understand why no one welcomed him.
He thought fortune had abandoned him, never realizing that he himself was reversing every step he took.

Exhausted by so many stumbles, one day he decided to return. The war had ended, and perhaps he could recover what he had left behind. When he confessed that the virtues had not worked, Wisdom itself responded with the calmness of one who understands the heart of things:

“What you were given did not fail.
Your memory failed.
Your order failed.
You presented yourself to the world with an inverted message because you repeated it in reverse.
I warned you: what is essential must be written.”

It was then that he understood that his misfortune did not come from destiny, but from forgetting.
That his downfall had not been caused by enemies, but by his own disorganization.
That his words, spoken without clarity, had shaped his entire reality.

That day he realized that nothing important can be left floating in the mind.
To write, to organize, to anchor what sustains the path…
was the bridge between who he longed to be and what he was truly revealing to the world.

“The priest writes the stories in order to study them later.”

I am only The Apprentice, and on this path I have discovered that the mind is never a stable temple. It shifts with fatigue, with fear, with emotion or euphoria. Understanding this has shown me that inner order does not come from inspiration; it comes from discipline. What is essential must have its own place—visible, steady, grounded—so it is not devoured by the noise of the day.

I have learned that words spoken incorrectly carry consequences.
That a message uttered in reverse is enough to alter an entire destiny.
That clarity sustains, order protects, and coherence opens doors
that improvisation always closes.

And I have discovered that writing is not merely a practical act:
it is an act of loyalty to oneself.
It is ensuring that we do not betray who we aspire to become.
It is, in essence, the most honest way to walk without reversing our own path.

I am only The Apprentice…
Oluwo Otura Ojuani — Awo Ifá Oma
Iboru Iboya Iboshishe — Moforíbalẹ̀ Ifá