It shows up quietly in the way I shrink my expectations, second-guess my ability, or assume that other people are naturally smarter, more capable, and more deserving than I am.

Every time I catch myself thinking that way, I remember my father. He has this confidence and faith in me that’s almost frightening and at the same time deeply humbling.

There was this competition I was nominated to participate in while transitioning from junior to senior secondary school. It had over 800 applicants that were mostly older and more experienced students. They were looking for the top 24 to form four competing teams. I prepped hard. We wrote an assessment, went through interviews, and waited.

Then the final list came out and I made fourth.

I was genuinely surprised. I knew I prepped hard, but I wasn’t expecting to even make it to top 10. I shared my astonishment with my dad and he looked at me and said:

“I didn’t expect anything less.”

He said it like it was obvious. Like excellence was normal for me.

He had that much faith.

To my dad, I was first class material. He’d tell me to read newspaper pages that celebrated academic excellence. One day, I was going to make him proud with a first class degree.

I’m older now. I graduated last year.

I’ve had wins, but far more fails and losses — a more recent one being missing first class by a 0.06. That one hurt.

It was close enough to taste but far enough to grieve it.

0.06

There’s this 1997 Nike commercial where Michael Jordan quoted these words that have always fascinated me:

“I’ve missed more than 9,000 shots in my career. I’ve lost almost 300 games. 26 times, I’ve been trusted to take the game-winning shot and missed. I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed.”

Winning is a numbers game. Success isn’t the absence of failure. Success is what gets built through it.

We glamorize home runs and forget the strikes. We celebrate the podium and ignore the process. We forget that even OGs were once JJCs; that even experts once sucked.

We treat failure like its a verdict. But, failure is data. It teaches you what doesn’t work. It exposes weak methods and thinking. It forces refinement.

If you must win, you must persevere. How many failures can you survive? How many rejections can you endure? Do you learn from your failures? Do you reiterate and persevere through boring work and disappointments?

The temptation after failure is usually to stop dreaming; you lower the bar, you shrink your desires, you define yourself by what went wrong...

But you are not your worst moments. Neither your wins nor your fails define you. What if we treated success and failure as just data. Data that champions use to calculate their next direction.

“A champion is defined not by their wins, but by how they recover when they fall.” — Serena Williams.

If you’re carrying the weight of failure right now, remember this:

Keep going. Keep moving. Keep trying. A champion is resilient.

Learn. Adapt. Let failure sharpen you, not silence you. Leverage every opportunity. Give your best strike.

I’m rooting for you.

I have faith in you, the same way my father has faith in me, the same way I’m learning to have faith in myself.

Place a bet on you, as I am learning to place a bet on myself too.

Don’t lose your spark, champion.

See you at the top.

One line hit me and stayed:

Lean completely into your story. Own your story and find the beauty in it.

So here I am, leaning in.

My story doesn’t begin with me. It started with my parents.

It started with my dad, and my mum, and the people that came before them. I think that each generation represents a layer, building on that which has been laid before.

Both of my parents almost didn’t go to school. They fought their way into education.

My mum dreamed of becoming a doctor, but her parents couldn’t afford it. She went hungry, was punished for unpaid fees, and watched her siblings drop out before completing secondary school. But she refused to let her story end there. Today, she’s a school administrator pursuing her Master’s at UNILAG — a testament to dreams deferred, but never defeated.

My dad grew up in a relatively more comfortable environment than my mum did. As the first son, he was expected to support his Father by tending to his farm. However, he subverted every expectation by demanding to go to school and sponsoring himself through. I often think he’d have been a titan in Finance if someone had just shown him the door.

Then came me — this babe from Agbado.

Agbado is a border town in the outskirts of both Lagos and Ogun state. The roads are broken, the lights go out often, and network service is unreliable at best.

At the heart of the town is the rail line. It is the umbilical cord connecting us to central Lagos, but it’s also a site of regular tragedy. It’s a gathering point for beggars and a constant, looming danger especially in the night.

Almost every month, there’s a gory story of somebody being pulverized or mangled by the train, another life claimed by the iron tracks. So, in Agbado, you learn to keep your ears alert for the train; the same way I keep my eyes alert for the opportunities my parents never had.

Agbado is an environment designed to keep you small. It doesn’t offer much. No access, little exposure, a horizon that feels boxed in. Yet, I am the product of people who refused to let my imagination be gray. I am the daughter of parents who fight a tireless, invisible war to give us more, and teachers who arrived with enough color to paint over the limitations of our surroundings.

My story is not complete, my journey is still evolving, but Tunde helped me realize that my background isn't a disadvantage to overcome; it is a prerequisite for my purpose. I realize that by not acknowledging my background, I am leaving my most valuable asset: my perspective, off the balance sheet.

Tunde spoke about the need for people who can stand in the middle. Those who carry the empathy of where they’re from, but understand the language of where they are going.

So, I’m stepping into that gap. We’ll see where the journey takes me.

And someday, just maybe, another girl from the “small places” will read this and think:

If she can — I can too.

Watch Tunde talk here:

It’s been a little over two years since I started this Substack.

I named it Mercy’s stack because I wanted a place where I could spill my thoughts, give a glimpse into my mind and document life as I experienced it.

In some way, I wanted it to be a way of documenting the different versions of myself that showed up in and experienced different seasons. But, I have gone on to share less than five posts. lol. So much for documenting life.

And it wasn’t that there weren’t things to talk about. Of course, there’s always stuff to talk about. But, I’m not sure why i didn’t write you. Maybe I wanted everything to sound perfect. Maybe life was too loud and I couldn’t sit long enough to put the noise into words. I dunno.

Sitting in my drafts is a post I wanted to make on turning 21 last year. I wanted to share that 21 felt different, not in the most spectacular sense, but in a quiet sense. I remember I made a promise to myself to take care of myself. To leave dynamics that drained me. To stop hurting myself by staying where I shouldn’t. To eat well and to chase the things I actually wanted.

Then 22 came.

By 22, I had walked away from a dynamic with a boy that hurt me deeply. I still talk to him (lol), but that dynamic will never repeat itself again.

22 was also the year I led sponsorship for the largest student-led conference at the University of Lagos: TECX.

You see, if I had written during that period, I would have talked about the pressure, the disappointment of failing my final ICAN paper again, how we raised 90% of our budget just days before the conference, how exhausted I was, and how weirdly happy I was too. I’d have told you about the valleys of anxiety and the peaks of joy I experienced. And if you ask me today how well I think I did, I’d probably shrug and say, could’ve been better.

Now 22 is stretching me again. I can feel it. I’m evolving. I’m becoming someone I don’t fully recognize yet. I’m curious to meet her, but I’m also aware that “becoming” never ends. There is no final form. I think seasons change us. They mold us, break us, tear from us, add to us… Every milestone, and loss, and mistake, and win leaves a mark. And when I think about it, I am reminded that God doesn’t change, even when we do. And that thought grounds me.

As 2025 draws to a close, I realize that I didn’t achieve either of my biggest goals for the year: Finish ICAN and graduate with a first class.

With my convo in a few weeks, graduating with a 4.44 stings, especially considering the fact that I had maintained a first-class CGPA till my last semester.

Last year, I didn’t hit my goals either.

And yet, somehow the year still delivered unexpected plot twists, surprises and little pockets of miracles.

If there’s one word I’d use to define this year, it’s curveballs.

I’ll rest here.

For now.

Till I write to you again, keep living❤️.

Ps:

Music that caught my fancy this week — Con La Brisa from Black Panther: Wakanda Forever. You should totally check it out:

PPs.

You can share this. Or not.

See you on the next page❤️

Have you ever squeezed into the backseat of a small car or tricycle with two plus-size aunties? Exactly. Before you can even settle in, you’ve been compressed into the door like a folded piece of paper. And no, shifting doesn’t help. They just adjust, reclaim their space, and suddenly, you’re questioning whether you even exist.

If you’re slim, you already know—public transport is a battlefield. There’s always that one person who thinks, Oh, you’re small, so you don’t need this much space. Excuse me? I may be small, but I, too, have bones, lungs, and a basic need for comfort.

Let’s not even talk about those moments in tight spaces (crowded cars, packed elevators, shoulder-to-shoulder queues). My plus-size sisters? Sitting, standing, existing in full glory. Me? Wedged in some awkward, barely-there corner, looking like I was edited into the scene last-minute😂

What about the arm-rest battle? The unspoken rule: the biggest person wins. You? You will fold. You will adjust. You will squeeze.

Being small is a scam. A big, well-orchestrated scam. You think it means elegance, grace, fitting into tiny dresses? Please. It means being squeezed out of every shared space like an unnecessary footnote.

I admire how plus-size women command a room. They take up space, they move with confidence, they don’t shrink themselves to fit.

Now, let’s be real. The curves are calling me, too. A little more hip, a little more chest? Just enough to fill out that gown? The dream. But even beyond aesthetics, I want the presence that comes with it. I want to feel seen. I want to sit and have my own rightful space.

One day, just one day, I would take up space, sit down, and spread out my arms; oppressing slender girls the way Dahun used to oppress me. I’ll get my revenge. But until then, I’ll be over here—scrambling for armrest rights, dodging elbows, and rethinking my life choices in every packed car ride.

But until then, my plus-size babes, I see you, and I’m lowkey jealous. Fellow slender people, do you feel my pain?

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Earlier last week, I found myself in a comparison rut.

You know that feeling that other people have what you don't have and all that. That other people have better, that you do not have enough, you're not enough. That other people get good things but "not you'' because somehow, they're better and they deserve it and you don't.

One of my earliest memory of life was when I was maybe 5. We had been told to dress up in school in the colour red. I was expecting my parents to take it as a big deal, get me new clothes in the colour red and all that. But guyy, was I disappointed 😅😂.

They dressed me up in one of my old tops that was not even red!😂 It was orange. I remember how I could not enjoy the whole activity during that red day. I was stuck in the feeling of disappointment. I remember assessing every girl's dress. Victory is dressed in red. This other girl is wearing a red gown. I'm the only one in old orange top.

I shared this story because I look back now and I find it funny. I don't think my parents remember this story. I thought those girls were better than I was because they wore beautiful red clothings and I was stuck in an old orange top + pinafore. And that was not even true.

Their red dresses didn't make them better than me for goodness sake!

Comparing is enslaving because you begin to covet and to strive which makes you do stuff that is un-natural to you.

You begin to copy in the hopes of "being better". That's not what God wants for us. God created us as different individuals each unique from the other. There's only one you. And comparing yourself with another person would only stifle you and hinder you from expressing the fullness of who you really are.

And comparing yourself with others is a never ending circle. I noticed that the people I compared myself with changed with every season. One time it was this babe, the next time, it was this guy....

Looking back now, as I grow and mature, I wonder why I compared myself with these people because some of the things I envied them for, I already had. I just did not see them.

So, earlier last week when I felt not enough because so and so has this and I don't have it, I wrote to God, expressed all I felt. I grumbled, complained.

And you know what?

I got convicted.

I saw how truly messed up that was.

I compared because I was not grateful for my own blessings. I was not even recognising them! That's pretty messed up. I found out I compared because I wanted what someone else had, I was coveting my neighbours blessings. Turns out I coveted because I did not even recognise what I had.

That's the thing about comparing, envying, coveting.

You're holding your own stuff (blessings), but you're not watching them, you're not recognising them, but your eyes are focused on somebody else's stuff.

Guess what happens when you're focused on something else other than your own stuff? You lose them.

It all boiled down to ungratefulness. I picked a moment to thank God for everything I had in my own life. It forced me to recognise Gods blessings and His hands in my own life.

Ultimately, recognising my own blessings is forcing me to not just acknowledge them, but also focus on them, work with them.

There are so many ways to look at this. For instance, another thing I found out that I would like to emphasize is that comparing yourself with another person makes you feel like they're better than you somehow and that you are not enough for those blessings.

You are enough. You are God's child and God is for you. God is pro - Mercy, God is pro- (insert your name here).

God wants to bless you, increase you and He is taking you on a journey to the expected end He has for you.

Sometimes, you're in a lack season, but it doesn't mean that somebody living in abundance is better than you. Resist the temptation to measure yourself or others by what you have, what you possess, what you've done.

Sometimes, you're in an abundance season, it doesn't make you better than someone suffering lack at the moment.

I mean, situations come and go, circumstances change. Highs and lows come. Sometimes, our journey would take us through valleys and horrible pits and shadows of death. Other times, our journey would be beside still waters and green pastures. But either way it goes, let's be assured that God is with us, and our meaning and definition should come from Him.

Let's not define ourselves by ever changing phenomenons like our achievements, our possessions and so on when we can plant ourselves in the firm rock of God's unchanging-ness and faithfulness.

God is faithful. And He is faithful to even you, even me. His desire is to bless us and to prosper us in all areas of life.

Even when our situations scream hopeless and not good. God is good. That's who He is. When you pass through the waters, He is with you, and through the rivers, they will not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned and the flame will not kindle upon you.

I know firsthand this place is definitely not talking about making difficult situations easy for you like you're not really going through it. It won't be easy. You'd cry. You'd grief. You might shake your fists at God and question him. You might even keep malice with God and forget that God is good, there is beauty in pain and that God plants seeds among ashes.

I think what God is saying here is that you'd go through all these and your soul would come out unscathed. That instead, eventually, if you let him, that you'd not look like what you went through. That instead of scars would be trophies, instead of ruins, would be beauty. Instead of grief would be wisdom and joy.

That you're not a victim, but a Victor.

So, my dearly beloved, resist the temptation to compare your season with somebody else's. Guyy, you're on a completely different journey going through an entirely different season. Don't be foolish.

Finally, a little word from Paul, our favourite Apostle:

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"Now Samuel did not yet know the LORD, neither was the word of the LORD yet revealed unto him"

That verse was or is very striking to me because:

1. Samuel was one of the greatest prophet/judge that Israel ever had.

2. However, there was a time that he didn't even know God! Twice, he confused God's voice for Eli's voice. He didn't even recognise God's voice. It was foreign to him. He didn't even discern that it was God speaking to Him.

3. Even Samuel had to be taught. He did not even know how to respond to God's call. Eli, being far more mature, older and wiser, perceived that God had called the child, gave Samuel his very first lesson in walking with God.

"If he calls you, you shall say, Speak, LORD; for thy servant heareth"

My Takeaways:

1. Everyone starts out as a novice in their walk with God.

2. Everyone who teaches a subject once started with zero knowledge like nada. They had to learn.

2. Nobody comes into God with unfair advantage. We all start from ground zero.

4. Everyone who is first in line first started out back of the line.

In short, even OGs were once JJCs too.

One time, I drew a graph of my relationship with God. 😂 (talk about being an economics student without actually saying you're one)

My graph went something like this:

When I drew it, I was frustrated.

My graph went high for the times I felt really close to God, and it went low for the times I felt at my lowest and God seemed far away.

But my graph didn’t tell the complete truth. It missed some things out.

Over time, I realized what my graph truly meant. It was a representation of my feelings. It went high when I felt close to God, and went low when He seemed far away.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

I have come to realize that God is always there whether I can feel him or not, whether his hands are visible or not in my life.

I have come to learn that as God’s children, every situation, and every challenge, regardless of how enjoyable it is or not, is to reveal God to us and bring us to a deeper understanding of who He is.

The whole experience of my highs and lows (as I like to call by one of my favorite Hillsong music) has made me realize that God is faithful. He keeps His promise of never deserting us.

He said He’d never leave us. We might feel like He isn’t there like He has forsaken us and we’re alone and He has forgotten us. I felt that way, but the truth is those are just feelings. What we feel or see might feel like the truth but it’s still just our feelings.

God is with us regardless of how lonely we feel, or how hopeless or pathetic our situations might look, God keeps His promises and He’s right there. He did not bring us this far to forsake us.

He is there. Always there whether we see Him or not, whether we feel Him or not and He is working all things out for our good and according to His purpose.

Highs and lows are normal occurrences in anybody’s life, I believe.

I think there are times when we feel lonely and sometimes deserted, but let’s remind ourselves that God is there either way life goes whether high or low.

If I were to relive my low moments in the past, Here’s what I’d do:

• Read The Word and not trust my feelings as truth. To get through lows, I would constantly remind myself of what God has said, what He has told me in the place of intimacy. I think this is why journaling our walk with God is important, because sometimes, we humans are forgetful. Reading through our journals can remind us of what God has told us. You’ve got to constantly remind yourself of what God says.

• I would not rely on my own strength, because during lows, im at my weakest and very vulnerable. Reaching out to the right people like spiritual mentors, being vulnerable with them, and plugging yourself to a community would provide a support system to your faith. These people can speak The Word over you, pray with you and just generally make sure that your faith is strong and alive.

• Confess. Speak. Durin lows, the temptation is there to wallow in grief and negativity but you have to seak Gods Word to your situations and to your future. You have to lean in to God’s Word and what it says about you and your future. Resist the temptation to lean into what your mind or your feelings is telling you. You have to lean in to the knowledge you have of God. What has he revealed to you from the scripyures about himself, about you?

God is always present. And its not like He’s just watching with arms folded. He is actively working in you and through you, drawing you closer to Him.

This music sums everything up.

You can listen here:

https://spotify.link/BDrVxbYVHDb

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Listen to Highs & Lows here:

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