Birthing Possibilities

There’s always a version of you that people know. The reliable one. The funny one. The spiritual one. The calm one who seems to have life figured out. And maybe some of it is true. Maybe a lot of it is. Still, I’ve come to think most people are carrying around a public self and a private self that don’t fully match. Not because they are fake. Life just trains people to become manageable. Presentable. Easy to understand. After a while, you get used to giving people the version of you that works best in public. The one that keeps relationships smooth and conversations comfortable. The one that earns approval without creating too many complications. Social media has made this even easier. Everybody’s curating themselves now. Carefully. You can almost feel the editing happening in real time. Even honesty gets polished before it’s shown to people. A “vulnerable” post can still be performance. I don’t completely blame people for it. Full transparency sounds noble until you actually meet some...

You can’t talk about the cost of getting sick in Nigeria without talking about the people who are no longer here. Every crisis in our health system seems to sit on top of another one. But the quiet one, the one we don’t always calculate, is the exodus. The steady exit of the very people we spent years training. They call it “Japa.” A soft word for a hard reality. Doctors, nurses, consultants packing up degrees earned in overcrowded lecture halls and walking into airports with one-way tickets. Not because they hate Nigeria. Not because they lack patriotism. But because at some point, patriotism doesn’t pay rent, and it certainly doesn’t restore your mental health. We have roughly 24,000 licensed doctors serving over 220 million people. Do the math. One doctor to about 9,000 Nigerians. The World Health Organization recommends one to 600. That’s not a small gap. So when you sit in a waiting room for six hours, when your appointment gets postponed for the third time, when the doctor looks...

Every now and then, you hear someone say: “Church is scam.” It's usually after a disappointment. A betrayal. A financial appeal that felt manipulative. A leader who didn’t live up to what they preach. And if we’re being honest, sometimes the frustration is not baseless. I get it. If your experience with church has mostly been pressure for money, forced loyalty, selective accountability, and spiritual intimidation, “scam” feels like the simplest summary. When faith starts to look like a subscription service and blessings are marketed like products, it's only natural to be suspicious. People are not stupid. They can smell performance. But calling church a scam assumes the entire idea is built on lies. That the idea itself is deception. And that’s where I start to have a problem. The church, at its core, wasn’t designed as a business model. If you look at the Scripture, what we see is a messy community. People trying to follow Christ, often falling and rising along the way. The ea...

I used to think being “chosen” meant life would somehow cooperate with you. Like saying "I am a chosen, who are you" to every situation. Doors would open. People would understand you. Things would fall into place neatly. But when you read the Bible carefully, that idea falls apart. Look at Joseph. Joseph had big dreams early. Clear dreams. The kind that sound like destiny. And then what happened? His brothers sold him. He worked as a slave. He was falsely accused. He ended up in prison. For years, nothing about his life looked chosen . It looked like everything had gone wrong. Job’s story is even more uncomfortable. The man God Himself described as upright, blameless, faithful. If anyone deserved protection, it was him. Instead, he lost his children, his wealth, his health. His friends didn’t even comfort him properly. If being chosen meant exemption from pain, Job would be Exhibit A. Instead, he becomes evidence that purpose and suffering sometimes share the same address...

THE HOSPITAL BILL Falling sick is not just about your body. It’s about your bank account. It’s about the panic that sets in when a doctor says, “We’ll need to run a few tests,” and you start calculating in your head before you even ask how much. We like to believe that Teaching Hospitals are the safe place. The place for the ordinary person. The place where expertise meets some measure of affordability. And to be fair, they do incredible work. I’ve seen lives saved in those corridors. I’ve seen dedicated doctors and nurses stretch themselves thin for patients who can barely afford a consultation fee. But I’ve also seen families crumble financially in those same buildings. You walk in thinking, “At least I have NHIS” or “My HMO will handle this.” There’s a certain comfort in holding that card. It feels like protection. Until you’re told that the scan isn’t covered. Or the medication is out of stock under your plan. Or your coverage limit has been exhausted. Or this particular procedure ...

Mother’s Day is more than a date on the calendar. It is a sacred moment to honour the women whose prayers have covered us, whose sacrifices have sustained us, and whose love has shaped our destinies. Mothers are the silent pillars of strength in our homes; rising up early, sleeping late, giving endlessly, and loving unconditionally. Through seasons of joy and seasons of struggle, they remain steadfast. Their hands have nurtured generations, their words have guided purpose, and their faith has carried families through storms. Come May 10th, we celebrate not only biological mothers, but also grandmothers, stepmothers, guardians, and every woman who has stood in the gap to nurture a life. As we mark this special day, may every mother be honoured, cherished, and blessed abundantly. And may we never forget that behind every strong nation is the strength of a praying mother. To that significant woman in your life, ensure you appreciate their efforts while they can still receive it. I...