If you ever sat beside your grandma on a hot evening, wrapper tied firm, hand fanning herself with an old calendar, you’ve probably met a strategist in disguise.
She didn’t need a vision board or business plan. Her strategy was in her silence, her timing, her way of knowing things long before they were said.
Long before “soft life” became a phrase, she was teaching us how to survive hard ones, and still keep dignity intact.
The Quiet Strategist
Your grandma’s strategy wasn’t about speed. It was about sense.
She knew when to speak, and when silence was the louder answer.
She knew that when you serve someone food, you’re not just feeding them, you’re reading them.
If she gave an extra piece of meat to a guest, it wasn’t generosity alone; it was data gathering.
She noticed who looked too long at the soup pot, who complimented too quickly, who avoided eye contact.
In that small kitchen, she studied character better than any psychology book could teach.
Their School Was Life
Our grandmothers didn’t learn strategy from podcasts or leadership conferences.
Life was their teacher.
The market was their classroom.
Every market day, they navigated alliances, rivalries, negotiations, and gossip, with nothing but intuition and composure.
When she said “E go better,” it wasn’t just comfort. It was foresight; a way of resetting the mind to hope, not fear.
She traded yam for salt, salt for trust, trust for protection.
Her network was made of people who owed her favors or wisdom.
Her Kind of Strategy
When she wrapped her scarf tighter before stepping out, that was her armor.
When she smiled in the face of insult, that was emotional intelligence before it had a name.
When she saved money in a folded piece of cloth under her mattress, that was financial planning, quiet, personal, unshakable.
She never said “I’m setting boundaries,” but she had them, firm ones.
She never said “I’m building a brand,” but her name carried weight across three villages.
Everything she did had a rhythm; not rushed, not random.
Just right.
Lessons from Her Playbook
- Observe before you act: That’s how she knew when to sow, when to sell, and when to stay still.
- Silence is a weapon: She never fought with noise, she fought with patience.
- Every move doesn’t need applause: She knew the power of quiet victories.
- Protect peace like profit: Because peace was her real currency.
The Mirror Moment
If Grandma lived in our time, she wouldn’t be chasing trends.
She’d be decoding them, quietly, wisely, the way she always did.
She’d remind us that strategy isn’t in the noise of plans, but in the calm of knowing.
That wisdom doesn’t shout; it watches.
And that sometimes, the smartest move is to sit still until your spirit says, “Now.”
Because in the end, Grandma never played the game the world wanted —
she played the one that kept her people alive.
Look back. Move smart.
She already showed us how.