To My Unborn Child, With Love My child (of course I know your name) You are not here yet, but I already know you. I know your voice. I know your face. I know the person you are becoming. And one day, you may read this blog and discover that I was writing to you long before you arrived. This blog is almost twenty years old. It has carried my thoughts, my reflections, my dreams, my questions and different versions of me as I have grown. But this particular story is one I want you to know. Your grandfather, Sani Dangogo, was a presidential correspondent at Dodan Barracks, a decade before I was born. He was there, reporting around the highest office in the country, long before I existed. Years later, I went to university and changed my major three times. My first choice was International Relations, which was connected to your grandmother’s path. Eventually, I chose journalism. At the time, I thought I was simply choosing my own career. I did not realise I was beginning to mer...
There comes a season in life when your greatest responsibility is no longer proving yourself to the world, but returning to yourself. It is easy to become consumed by who stayed, who left, who misunderstood you, or who changed when you needed them most. But at some point, you have to stop measuring your life by other people’s choices and start paying attention to your own growth. What if this chapter is not about replacing what you lost, but rebuilding what you neglected? Rebuild your discipline. Protect your peace with the same intention you once gave so freely to others. Strengthen your body because it carries your purpose. Nourish your mind with thoughts that bring clarity instead of fear. Put your finances in order because stability gives you freedom. And most importantly, reconnect with the version of yourself that existed before disappointment, exhaustion and fear made you shrink. Growth is rarely loud. Most of the time, it happens quietly: in the mornings when you choose yo...