Life is a journey between the first and last breathe.

 

Ényó kabakpa che, oñu ajéñu ójó ékéjóñu kó (The good deeds that a Muslim does while alive, fuel-crowd his rememberance day).

Life, from its very beginning, has always been a long chain of struggles wrapped in quiet miracles. Before we even take form, we fight through the unpredictable chance of existence, one tiny sperm among millions, pushing through chaos to meet an egg that never sends an invitation(Life can be a lottery in this sense). That struggle is our first victory, though we never remember it. Birth itself is another. A child entering the world comes  through pain, pressure, uncertainty, and yet emerge crying, breathing, and SURVIVING. It’s as if life starts by whispering a truth we only understand much later 'nothing worth becoming comes without effort'. And as we open our eyes to the world, clueless, hapless and helpless, the next battles begin, one by one, shaping us long before we learn the word 'struggle'.

Growing up is another long curriculum of challenges disguised as stages. Nobody comes into the world knowing how to speak, but we are pushed by instinct, environment, and necessity until the first words crawl out of our mouths. Nobody is born walking, but we rise, fall, and rise again, sometimes crying, sometimes laughing, but always moving towards something(developmental milestones), even if we don’t know what it is. Every milestone that adults call normal is actually a personal triumph that came with discomfort, confusion, and the courage of a tiny human refusing to stay down. This same pattern follows us into adolescence and youth, learning to read emotions, to understand friendships, to deal with pressure, to navigate expectations. And because life never hands out breaks in equal measure, some grow in the shadow of hardship while others swim in relative ease. But regardless of background, everyone has their own set of battles that shape them quietly deeply, and ostensibly.

Later in life, the struggles simply change shape. They wear new clothes, speak new languages, and sometimes come with heavier consequences. Dreams become heavier to carry, responsibilities multiply, and the world becomes a louder place. The effort needed to succeed can be overwhelming, not because we lack strength, but because the weight of adulthood force us to stretch in ways childhood never prepared us for, check Ladé's 'adulthood na scam'. We chase education, jobs, stability, relevance, and peace, often at the same time. We face losses, heartbreaks, failures that are loud and victories that are often silent. But still, we push. Still, we rise each morning with that same old instinct we had as crawling babies, the instinct to move forward. And even when we don’t fully understand why we’re trying so hard, something within us refuses to surrender.We are Hopeful, and I think hope is a stubborn and beautiful trait of human beings.

Yet, after everything, after all the running, fighting, winning, losing, there comes a day when the body finally tires. When the ability to take in oxygen and release carbon dioxide fades. When the same chest that inflated with the first cry must one day fall still😢. It is in that quiet ending that the real weight of our journey becomes clear. Because at that point, struggles no longer matter, trophies no longer matter, even the noise of achievements fades. What truly remains is impact, the fingerprints, or should I say footprints we left on people’s hearts, the moments we shaped, the kindness we gave, penultimately, the scars we healed or caused, and ultimately, the footsteps we left behind. Life is a brief loan, impact is the only form of ownership we get to keep. That is why at some point, every person must pause and ask, What will remain when I am no longer breathing? The question is not meant to frighten but to awaken, to remind us that while struggle is unavoidable, meaning is a choice. And if we are deliberate enough, our struggles can become stories, our stories can become lessons, and our lessons can become light for someone coming behind us.

®Ahmed Salim Jn ✍️ 

#Uloko