“Dear Kehinde, wipe your tears now. You can stop crying.

I know life hasn’t been the fairest to you. You hope, and pray for better days, but it feels like they are not coming yet. I know it hurts deeply to repeat JS1 even after promoting to JS2 as the top of your class, simply because your parents could no longer afford a private school, the sorrowful sting of having to start all over again.

Kehinde, I get you. I know how you will walk back from school wearing only sandals without socks, walking very fast so that classmates from the private schools in your area won’t see you and mock you. I understand how you once wanted to be a pilot, then an architect, and then a medical doctor, but doubted yourself so much because of how much failure you were exposed to. I know how many nights your pillow soaked your tears as you thought about the words “Career” and “Ambition,” and how you didn’t believe you were made for much.

It’s really sad, but I want to tell you something: It will be fine. I promise.

You will eventually get the chance to rise above it. You will win over 20 national and international awards; awards the private school could never have exposed you to and awards you never believed you were capable of winning. Your fear and tears of not knowing what you want to become will lead you towards discovering your Ikigai: Your unique purpose of putting something back into the world through teaching.

Kehinde, enjoy this period. You will look back at it and smile, just like I am now, because this season (and the years that follow) will become the most formative period of your life.

But Kehinde, here is the most beautiful part of this letter:

There will come a day in about 10 years when you will get the opportunity to stand in front of teenagers and speak to them about career development, and finding meaning in life. When that opportunity comes, I want you to take it with your whole heart and share your story with vulnerability. They will listen to you because your pain will have matured into wisdom. And your story will become someone’s survival guide. But for that to happen, you must keep building capacity. Enjoy the small wins. Embrace the slow progress and hold your head high.

Because in 10 years, you will share the same lessons you are crying through right now, and someone’s life will shift because of you. When that moment comes, wear your red cap like someone who has built capacity. I need you to show up as someone who has grown, someone who refused to give up. Stay true to yourself because the teenagers will see things in you that they want for themselves.

And when that day comes, speak from your heart and give 100%. I am rooting for you.

Yours emotionally, Kehinde Sr — your big bro ❤️”.

God is helping us