We say children are the leaders tomorrow, but how can they become leaders if they are treated like this? They don't deserve this, nobody does. They should be learning, playing, and dreaming instead.
Government, do the needful. Bring them home!
#happychildrensday
Childhood was really just adults lying to you "eat your food, it will make you tall." I ate everything. I am not tall. I think I deserve answers.
#Happychildrensday
If this touched you , go listen to
๐ต Iyemi (My Mother) by Bayo Ododo
Every word of that song felt like it was already living in my chest.
And if you have a mother, call her after.
She was not always gentle. But she never left.
Mummy, I see you now. All of you.
The masks. The prayers. The bike rides.
The hunger you hid from me.
I receive all of it.
Thank you for showing up, even when you said you wouldn't. ๐ค
look like love.
I understand now what it means to be a woman.
The moods. The weight. The invisible things we carry every single day.
And I think about how much she must have been holding quietly while also trying to raise me right.
She was not perfect. But she was present.
was the most urgent thing in the world.
Now I'm in my twenties and I understand things I couldn't at fifteen.
It was her first time too.
Nobody handed her a manual.
She came from a background that didn't give her much grace.
So she gave me everything she had even when it didn't
I see it now, so clearly it makes my chest hurt.
The threats were not threats.
The harshness was not hatred.
It was tough love, dressed in the only language she knew.
I used to hear her cry when she prayed at night.
She never let me see it.
But I heard her pray my name like it
She didn't say sorry.
She didn't hug me.
She just showed up
That was Mum. That was always My Mum.
She skipped meals so I wouldn't go without.
She absorbed insults I never heard about.
She had my back even in seasons we weren't speaking.
I didn't see it then.
But then there was the JAMB morning.
We had fought the night before. Badly.
She promised she wouldn't come.
I believed her.
The next morning , she boarded a bike.
A bike she was terrified of.
Just to make sure I got there.
Just to make sure I didn't miss it.
She made me feel unseen. Unheard.
There were moments she took someone else's side without blinking even when I was telling the truth.
We clashed all through my teenage years. Two people speaking different languages. Both desperate to be heard.
Shipped designs. Refined systems. Told the Monorail story visually.
2025 design wrap for @monorail_xyz
More rails, more momentum, and I'm grateful for the journey so far and support. ๐ซก๐ค๐ช๐ฅ
(THE MYTH OF IMPURE BLOOD) AISHA AND ZARA (17).
AISHA barely made it into the house before collapsing against the bathroom door,breathing heavily. She felt feverish,violated and utterly alone. She stared at the blood on her pant, this wasn't a cut or a scrape,this was DIFFERENT.
Cleaning up after peeling eggs for my egg rolls, I remembered: in primary school, weโd grind eggshells to scrub pots our own โVIM.โ
Small things, big memories.โจ
What childhood hack felt like magic to you?
Exactly 1 month today since I graduated from the SheRise Fellowship ๐
12 weeks of leadership, business insights, personal growth & community.
12 weeks that shaped me.
Now part of the SheRise Alumni Network and excited for Cohort 2 ๐
#SheRiseFellowship#SheRiseAlumni#Growth