Creating isn’t just an act; it’s a stance. It’s how you assert yourself in a world obsessed with consumption. Most people respond to life passively, letting others dictate the terms. But creators refuse to be spectators. They make things—books, businesses, apps, art—not because they have to, but because they must. Creating is a reflection of your moral personhood.
Creating doesn’t guarantee applause, and it shouldn’t seek it. The act itself is the reward. It forces you to focus, to push boundaries, to understand the raw materials of your thoughts. More importantly, it leaves the world slightly different than you found it. That’s no small thing.
The easy path is rarely the right one. Growth demands discomfort, and the sooner you embrace this, the better. Pain isn’t an enemy; it’s a guide. It shows you where the real work lies.
But not all discomfort is created equal. There’s pain that stunts, like staying too long in a bad situation. And there’s pain that stretches, like learning a new skill or confronting a hard truth. The trick is to recognize the difference. Pursue the discomfort that builds you up, not the kind that breaks you down.
And then, there’s the trap of luxury. Luxury feels like a reward, but it often becomes a crutch. The more you indulge, the harder it is to step away. People who can’t live without comfort become prisoners of their own desires. They insulate themselves so thoroughly from hardship that they lose the ability to cope with even minor inconveniences. It’s a sad way to live—so fragile, so dependent on everything going perfectly.
True freedom comes not from more luxury but from less need. Learn to endure discomfort, even to seek it out. The ability to thrive without luxury is a superpower in a world obsessed with ease. It sharpens your mind, toughens your spirit, and reminds you that you can survive—and thrive—on far less than you think.
Why do we cling so tightly to identities we’ve outgrown? Reinvention is one of the most underrated human capacities, yet it’s avoided because it feels like defeat. But refusing to change is the real failure. Life asks you to evolve, and the most successful people answer the call repeatedly.
Reinvention requires honesty. Look at your life critically. What’s working? What isn’t? Reinvention often begins with subtraction: shedding what no longer fits. This might mean leaving a job, a city, or even a version of yourself you once cherished. Reinvention isn’t abandonment; it’s renewal. And the beauty is, it can happen as often as you need it to.
Mastery has become a relic in a world addicted to multitasking. But true depth—the kind that transforms both you and your work—requires focus. Mastery isn’t about dabbling in everything; it’s about choosing one thing and going as far as you can with it.
The process is slow, often frustrating, and rarely glamorous. But mastery teaches you patience, sharpens your instincts, and sets you apart in ways that are impossible to fake. Pick something worth your time. Then give it the time it deserves. Excellence is rare, not because it’s hard to achieve, but because so few are willing to commit.
There’s a quiet power in consistency. Showing up daily, especially when you don’t feel like it, builds momentum that others mistake for luck. Consistency compounds. It’s the difference between those who talk about their dreams and those who live them.
Being dependable doesn’t mean being robotic. It means being persistent. It’s about pushing through boredom and resistance, knowing that the real breakthroughs often come after the urge to quit. Success is rarely about brilliance. It’s about reliability.
Pioneers don’t wait for permission. They don’t follow maps; they draw them. Being first is scary because it’s lonely and uncertain. But it’s also exhilarating. If you want to leave a mark, you can’t stick to well-worn paths. That’s how you become a visionary.
Visionaries see what others overlook. They find opportunities in constraints and beauty in brokenness. Yes, pioneering is risky. Yes, you might fail. But the reward isn’t just success—it’s significance. The world remembers those who dared to do what no one else could.
The world isn’t gentle, and neither should you be—at least when it comes to preparation. The most resilient people aren’t just survivors; they thrive because they anticipate chaos and position themselves to gain from it. Plans will fail. People will disappoint. Markets will collapse. These aren’t hypotheticals; they’re inevitabilities.
Antifragility isn’t paranoia; it’s a kind of optimism rooted in competence. It means saving not because you’re scared but because preparation creates freedom. It means learning broadly so that no single failure can unmake you. You don’t have to predict the future to prepare for it—you just have to assume it will be unpredictable.
“Someday” is a lie. Waiting for the right moment is a trap, designed to keep you from starting. The truth is, there is no perfect time. There is only now.
Acting with urgency doesn’t mean rushing blindly. It means refusing to let fear or uncertainty paralyze you. Start before you’re ready. Take the first step, even if it’s small..Momentum is magic—it’s the force that propels you from where you are to where you want to be. But it only reacts when you make the first move.
In chasing the new, we often lose sight of what endures. Yet, the things that matter most—truth, integrity, relationships—are rarely novel. They’re timeless.
A life built on trends is a life destined for obsolescence. Instead, seek what has proven its value over years, even centuries. This doesn’t mean rejecting innovation. It means anchoring yourself in principles that don’t change, even as the world does. Build for the future, but stand on the shoulders of the past.
Submit yourself to the ideal that is most true; to the wisdom that transcends human understanding: to the Word; to God. The greatest wisdom isn’t hidden; it’s ignored. The Bible, isn’t just a religious text. It’s a repository of the human experience, rich with lessons on love, sacrifice, and resilience. Its truths aren’t outdated; they’re eternal.
Engaging with scripture isn’t about blind adherence. It’s about grappling with ideas that have shaped civilizations and asking how they apply to your life. However, treating the Bible as just a history text, or a prosaic collection on the themes of love, redemption, and forgiveness will be erroneous. The Word is a conveyor of God’s eternal presence. It is the light that shatters the darkness in our lives and the world. It transforms anyone who takes it seriously.Who we could become is on the other side of The Word.
Historical eras are defined by their conception of the future. When we appraise previous generations, we do so by examining how they conceptualized the future, the decisions they made in anticipation of it, and the ways they built their societies to align with their vision of tomorrow.
For our generation, the question of legacy looms large: What will our reputation as ancestors be?
There’s a strange paradox at the heart of human ambition: the more we achieve, the more restless we become. Our achievements—personally and collectively—no matter how grand, never seem definitive. They hint at something greater just out of reach—something we can’t name but feel. We aren’t content with success as an end in itself. Wealth is rarely enough. Neither is power. The common thread in every aspirational pursuit is a subtle, unspoken ache: I want this to mean something. This isn’t just personal ambition—it’s existential.
This ache points to a profound truth. We are wired with desires nothing on earth can satisfy because we’re meant for something beyond it. There is a built-in dissatisfaction to success, seemingly designed to leave us wanting more. However, rather than acknowledging and confronting this deeper longing, we have avoided it. We have conflated recognition with significance and applause with meaning. In doing so, we trade the pursuit of true fulfillment for fleeting validation and lose sight of the deeper reality: our restlessness is meant to draw us toward something greater.
Ambition is not wrong, but it’s incomplete. The weight we carry isn’t just the pressure to succeed; it’s the burden of knowing that success alone can’t fulfill us.
We instinctively reach for permanence. We build legacies—companies, families, institutions—not just for ourselves but for future generations. The mother whispers stories to her child, knowing that memory is a fragile yet enduring thread. The entrepreneur dreams of a company that thrives long after their hands have left the reins. The artist pours heart and soul into their work, hoping their voice will echo when they are gone.
At the root of these desires is a deeper question: Will my life leave a lasting imprint, or will it vanish into obscurity?
As mathematician G. F. Hardy observed:
"Ambition is a noble passion which may legitimately take many forms... but the noblest ambition is that of leaving behind something of permanent value."
Permanence may well be the most noble compass for human ambition. We instinctively rebel against the idea of insignificance. Even those who claim to believe in a meaningless world live as though permanence is within reach. We carve monuments into stone, tell stories across generations, and nurture relationships, all hoping that they will outlast us. This instinct points to something real: a hidden truth that our lives are intertwined with eternity. The human story is far more enduring and significant than we often dare to imagine.
But we shudder at the conscious thought of eternal consequence. It feels too vast, too weighty, almost self-indulgent to consider. Yet, it quietly underpins much of what drives us. Whether we admit it or not, we are people desperate for significance, for the assurance that what we do today will ripple into tomorrow. This longing is not a frivolous desire; it is an inextricable component of our being.
Every human being carries eternal significance, yet the biggest undoing of our generation is our failure to recognize it. We are a naked generation, desperate for something greater to clothe us—we ache for glory, even if we cannot name it. We yearn for meaning in achievements and accolades, yet our deepest hunger remains unsatisfied.
It is in relationships that the concept of eternal consequence becomes most tangible. We often think of glory in individualistic terms—personal achievements, accolades. But as C.S. Lewis reminds us:
"There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal."
When we begin to see others as eternal beings, every interaction shifts in weight and takes on more profound significance. The way we mentor a colleague, encourage a friend, or resolve conflict is no longer a trivial act but something that ripples into eternity. Imagine leading a team with this perspective—your leadership transcends efficiency and becomes a calling to nurture legacy, not just success. And in that, we find a glory far greater than anything we could ever achieve alone.
This shift from the transactional to the relational forces us to rethink the purpose of our influence. Our aspirations shift from merely amassing a “following” to understanding our cosmic role in kindling the eternal flames in the lives of those who follow us. We understand that we have a responsibility to steward the eternal value in others.
This is what gives human connections their weight. And when we operate with this mindset, we engage with the world not as consumers of fleeting experiences, but as contributors to a story that transcends time.
If every interaction has eternal stakes, then every choice matters more than we realize. It is both liberating and terrifying. It liberates us from the trivialities of daily validation but confronts us with the unsettling truth of how lightly we treat things that may carry eternal ramifications. To live this way is to prioritize faith over unbelief and nihilism.
Faith carries an undeserved stigma in modern discourse. It’s often seen as naïve, a distraction from hard-nosed realism. Some people think that faith is a cowardly and immature defense against death anxiety. But those who see it that way falsely think that death is the worst thing that can happen to a man -- that's just where the worst gets started. A person driven by eternal significance doesn’t crumble under short-term failures.
Faith recalibrates our perspective, allowing us to endure, innovate, and build with patience. Ambition, in its truest form, isn’t about accumulation but transformation. Success isn’t about winning; it’s about becoming fully alive to our purpose. When we stop chasing shadows—status, recognition, superficial glory—we free ourselves to pursue what really matters. And maybe, just maybe, that’s where true greatness lies: not in what we achieve, but in who we become through the pursuit.
Our lives carry more weight than we imagine. Every decision, project, and interaction contributes to a larger divine story. And if we take that seriously, everything changes. The bar for success rises—not just in the material sense, but in the moral, relational, and spiritual sense.
The absence of faith creates a spiritual vacuum that nothing finite can fill. Only the quest for the eternal can.
We must change the occupation of our daily desires and conversations.
Mindless bickering is a luxury we can no longer afford.
Every year, I engage in a reflective exercise, writing an annual review that I share with intimate friends and mentors. In the process of preparing this year's review, I reflected on the significant life lessons I've learned and decided to compile a different list to share publicly.
Although many of these themes have been integral to my life for several years, my conviction in them deepened through firsthand experience this year. Everything here is easier to do when you’re young and are on a trajectory of some sort. But much of it applies to anyone.
It is important to identify what aligns well with your strengths. Achieving this through self-reflection alone can be challenging. Ideally, seek input from mentors or friends you trust who can provide insights into your areas of strength.
The environment and the people you surround yourself with profoundly impact the development of your strengths. It’s important to be around those who have a keen sense of the future.
Being in the company of such people who not only entertain wild and improbable plans but also exude optimism can be a game-changer. They see possibilities where others see roadblocks, and that mindset can be infectious.
I struggle to think of a better way to identify and hone your strengths than by associating with people who have a high idea flux, and most importantly, aren't overly concerned about what others think.
The universe is funny.
First, it offers a man a thing to see what he is really like. If he gives it back, then it gives him more. If he clings to it, it takes it away.
As opposed to what I believed a few years ago, I've come to realize that genuinely good ideas are not abundant.
The most exceptional ideas often seem so simple, making you question why no one has pursued them. Seemingly straightforward ideas are frequently overlooked due to their apparent simplicity.
The reason why good ideas are limited in supply is that most good ideas are only good ideas in retrospect. They require a significant amount of work to become good ideas, so we have an intuitive sense of their complexity at scale.
There are a lot of ideas that were good on paper and turned out to be bad ideas and the same is the other way around. Airbnb is a popular example of an idea that is good, but only in retrospect. In 2008, the idea of having strangers sleep under the same roof as your kids did not seem like a good idea. It took a lot of work to make that idea a good idea - because the founders had a strange belief in the idea and singlemindedly pursued it, even when it seemed crazy.
Embrace your strange and unique interests—strange is good. Strange tastes often mean you're really on to something, and that passion will make you super productive. Look where not many people look, and you're likely to discover new things.
When you discover new things, do not water your excitement down because you’re worried about what other people will think, or how it makes you look. Anytime you think of something that seems simple but hasn’t been pursued, you should pay attention.
At the very worst, you’ll learn more about why it hasn’t been pursued. At best, you have the seed of a massively successful endeavor.
“But if you have doubts about whether or not you should eat something, you are sinning if you go ahead and do it. For you are not following your convictions. If you do anything you believe is not right, you are sinning.” - Romans 14:23.
An effective way to build conviction is by taking the time to actively explore the unique things that genuinely pique your curiosity. The more niche, rare, and seemingly obscure, the better. The greatest opportunities to build conviction lurk in those offbeat interests, often dismissed as too niche.
The mistake I’ve often made is simply skimming the surface of my interests, especially when they are unpopular or may be perceived by others as above or below me. The more you lean into your intrinsic interests, the quicker your convictions develop. And I’ve realized that this is contagious; conviction spreads to other aspects of your life, personally and professionally. Many things can pull you off course when building conviction, especially around what to do with your life. Like trying to impress others, following trends, fear, chasing money, getting caught up in politics, or doing what others want.
But if you focus on what truly interests you, none of these things can mislead you. If you're into it, you're on the right track.
The most scarce resource in our generation is the capacity for independent thinking. The easiest way to differentiate yourself in any field of endeavor is to be someone who attempts to think independently.
There’s a triple reason why this is important: first, thought is synonymous with moral personhood. You’re unable to fully unlock who you could be as a human being without independent thought. You will remain an average of the overall net intelligence of the group.
The fact that there’s only a few people thinking independently means that you’ll have very few competitors for scarce resources and attention. Finally, independent thought is an intrinsic source of meaning: it carves out a space for continuous self-refinement, allowing you to evolve as your thoughts evolve. It is not merely a means to an end but a journey that inherently enriches your human experience.
Self-belief is the most powerful overlooked weapon for value creation. It is directly proportional to your capacity for independent thinking and vice versa. Growing up in Calabar, I thought very highly of those who went to school at the best universities in the world and wanted to be like them. When I began traveling across the world as a teenager, spending time with students across the world, I remember feeling disappointed by how little self-belief some of them seemed to have. Now I think I understand it.
Developing self-belief after experiencing success can be challenging if not cultivated from the outset. Throughout this year, there were several moments where my self-belief suffered, and my past achievements failed to provide solace. The insight shared in the last point of this article, however, proved to be my saving grace.
We’ll achieve greater things as a collective if we enable more competent people to develop self-belief. Your sense of self-belief gets stronger over time as you make decisions that prove you right (or wrong), so it’s important to start developing this as early as you can.
However, self-belief does not replace competence when it comes to creating value. Incompetent self-belief is foolhardiness. So, competence is critical. The point here is that you may not actualize the maximum gifts of your potential if your competence is not matched with sufficient self-belief.
It’s worth spending a lot of time figuring out what to work on.
Finding our life’s work usually takes a few years of tinkering. However, it requires patience and the humility to accept the ambiguity that comes with tinkering. We’re better served by figuring out what we should work on, especially if you’re someone who could easily have alternatives. When your direction is right, you can go from being good to being great by grinding and putting in the hours, but if your direction is off, no amount of time and effort will yield any meaningful results.
Being bold works wonders. The reason why getting started is usually the hardest is because it’s the loneliest phase of the journey. You have to make the decision, build conviction, and go from 0 - 1 on your own. No one else can do that for you.
However, once you get past the starting line, you often realize that there’s an army of people waiting on the other side to support you. People have a good recognition instinct for bold effort, and more people are willing to support bold effort than people are willing to tear them down. But you have to get started to find out the precise proportion.
You also have to realize if you’re the sort of person who enjoys going from 0 -1 or 1 - 100. It’s usually rare to be both.
The sort of person who will start something is usually the exact opposite of the sort of person who will build and run systems to scale that thing. I’m the former - I enjoy tinkering, taking reputational risks, and getting things started. I think I do an overall good job of it. However, I do not enjoy running the systems that scale things.
It’s critical to identify where you play the best, as it allows you to be bold in a productive manner. There are unproductive ways to be bold. Recklessness, mania, poor planning, and unwillingness to accept feedback, are some examples of unproductive boldness - they rarely yield any meaningful results.
Dexterity simply means the skill in performing tasks . I recently discovered the concept of “Intelligence’ in Igbo epistemology. The Igbo word for intelligence is a compound word “ako-n’uche”; translated to English means “craft and thought”. But it means more than that, it means the human ability to solve problems and create new things.
In the Igbo knowledge system, an intelligent person is one who can make things and think — in that order. Ako-n’uche is not an adjective reserved to describe some intelligent people, it is something we all have. If there is a criticism of us sometimes, it is that we don’t use it.
I believe this to be the case. The utility of your knowledge is limited until it is used to create something, by you, or others.
If you had to choose, it’s preferable to be someone who creates things, than someone who knows things. If you’re competent, it’s probably easier to be someone who knows things, because it’s relatively low-risk and quickly confers status in certain domains. For example, it’s much lower risk - and sometimes, higher status - to be a professor of war history, than it is to make weapons of war.
Becoming someone who creates things, no matter how small, makes the learning process much more efficient: you naturally become more curious, study faster with higher retention, and often tend to be happier. As I have realized, the process of creating organizes your perception around a goal that provides a container for negative emotions.
The biggest lesson I learned in 2023: working in alignment with God’s purpose makes life most meaningful. No true meaning can be found outside of God’s will. Different people describe God differently. For some, it’s the universe, providence, conscience, karma. They all point to some form of transcendental truth that necessarily exists.
It is important to find the greatest conceivable transcendental truth as early as you can. Everyone eventually turns to God at some point in their life, the problem is that some don’t do it soon enough.
As someone who spent the past 10 years being flaccid about this subject, I underestimated how important this was for filling the gaps in my knowledge and alleviating unnecessary suffering that stemmed from the finitude of my human mind.
While these are not complete and exhaustive reasons to attain alignment with God, it’s a permissible selfish reason to begin the journey. Eventually, your horizon of meaning will be expanded to overtake the selfish reasons why you began the journey. Some people only realize this on their deathbeds. I think it’s better to not.
Finding an assembly of others who are genuinely striving for progress in the faith is a good way. There is a striving for progress that isn’t virtuous. It’s mere virtue-signalling. You should avoid communities like that. When searching for communities, it's crucial to consider the visionary leader, often the Pastor or Apostle, and grasp the scriptural basis of their vision. I find interpretive skills, particularly in hermeneutics, to be of utmost importance. Hermeneutics pertains to the interpretation of texts, especially the Bible or literary works.
To quote Peter Abelard, the medieval French philosopher after he was prosecuted for heresy and condemned to death by the Ecclesiastical Council at Sens in 1141: “ I do not want to be a philosopher if it is necessary to deny Paul. I do not want to be Aristotle if it is necessary to be separated from Christ ”