Identity My New Problem Space
Why Identity Might Be the Next Big Problem I Want to Explore.
How do I begin?
Fifty-two weeks. 365 days. Gone. And the question remains: what was it all for? Did I become a better version of myself? Did you?
And even more, how does one measure that? Can you measure something so personal, so layered? Should you?
I don’t have the answers. Maybe in the process of writing this, it’ll become clearer to me, and maybe to you too.
Looking back, I’d broadly categorize the year under four themes: internal imbalance, failings (or experiments), community, and hope.
Let’s start at the beginning.
January was a lot. We had just made a big move. A few weeks prior, I’d relocated, again. From Lisbon, Portugal to Nigeria, and then now to England, UK. The transitions were rapid. Emotionally, financially, and practically, it shook the foundations of what I called “home.” But funny enough, this wasn’t my first dance. I’ve done this maybe four times in the past five years. Some days I like the shift; other days, I don’t. But here we are.
Professionally, I was navigating the winds of change, new company, new leadership, new expectations. A lot was shifting. And while it’s easy to talk about job titles, performance, and outputs, what we rarely mention is how much internal work is required to simply stay afloat.
And it helped to talk. To say things out loud. To be heard. Processing the chaos inside has a way of softening it. Sometimes, you find clarity just by hearing your own voice make sense of the noise.
What I’ve learned about navigating uncertainty is simple, but true: be patient, stay calm, and hold onto hope. Yes, it sounds cliché. But when you’re in the middle of global economic turbulence, clichés become survival wisdom.
Then came the failings. Or should I say, the experiments?
I started a lot of things in 2025. Teams, projects, social ventures. A few sprints with friends that fizzled out after five weeks. And yes, I tried to write a book.
I was juggling, at some point, I had 9 or 10 commitments on my plate. But I knew from the beginning that if I could see 3 or 4 through, that would be enough. That mindset helped me prioritize and protected my sanity.
Still, it sucks when things don’t take off. But I’m learning to be okay with that. I’ve realized that when working with friends or family, someone must hold the vision. That fire, that clarity, that persistenceit can’t be outsourced. You can hope others match your energy, but ultimately, someone has to lead. And leadership isn’t 50/50. It’s more like 70/30…sometimes 90/10. And if you’re the one with the dream, then the extra work is yours to carry.
This realization, this failure, taught me something important: entrepreneurship is the business of serving others.
You don’t always get the ROI you expect. And that’s okay.
Let’s talk about the biggest experiment of them all, writing.
Since 2023/24, the idea of writing a book had been living rent-free in my head. At first, I wasn’t sure. But somewhere in the process of doing my master’s in Information Management, I made a decision: I would write a book as my north star for this chapter of my life.
It wasn’t about publishing. It was about discipline. It was about learning how to write, how to read deeply, how to engage with ideas.
The real magic came when I heard Daniel Priestley say, “The book that changes your life isn’t the one you read, but the one you write.” It didn’t make sense then, but it does now. Every single day for seven months, I wrote. I woke up, kept my commitments, and still carved time to write. The journey was slow and humbling. But here I am now, manuscript in hand. Almost ready. Almost published.
What I’ve learned about writing: it doesn’t have to be perfect. Especially not the first one. In fact, your first book should be imperfect. The greats aren’t known for their first drafts, but for their consistency. And no, writing won’t make you rich, especially not at the start. Book success is a numbers game. But that’s not the point.
The point is: I did it.
As the third and fourth quarter rolled in, I decided to slow things down. To reflect. To give back. And one of the best decisions I made was starting a community book club.
In 2025 alone, I read somewhere between 18-20 books. Maybe 12 of them really left a mark. Some taught me what not to do. Some taught me how to write. Others taught me how to be an entrepreneur. And then, I discovered fiction, really discovered it.
Right now, I’m deep into Pachinko. It’s nearly 500 pages, and I might finish it in 3-4 days. That’s how much I’m enjoying it. Never thought I’d be this into fiction. But here we are.
And through this, I’ve learned something about experience. People often say, “travel the world and make memories.” But I’ve come to believe that memories can be made in simpler, quieter ways.
Like reading a book about tea in a small tea shop.
Like smelling the cinnamon blend while learning about its origin.
Like organizing a brunch. Starting a community. Taking portraits of strangers.
Travel is beautiful, yes, but it’s not the only path to a rich life. The world has made it the default definition of “freedom.” But maybe freedom is just savoring life, deeply, wherever you are.
Try things. Trust your intuition.
Lastly, this blog.
We now have 2,000 readers across 15 countries and over 20,000 visits. Most of you are based in the U.S., followed by Nigeria. And somehow, this small corner of the internet helped me find my voice again.
I don’t feel rushed anymore. I’m not chasing alot of things anymore, I’m preparing more thoroughly than ever for the future.
I’m learning to enjoy the slow burn.
ANd from the beginning we talked about the numbers, were for me now, what I’m monitoring is how many hours I spent online detached for the real world, and how many times I show up for my friends and family in times of needs. Good days and bad days, I guess that’s something to experience.
A new journey begins.
