25/06/2025
To break out of a pattern, you must first understand it.
Some families don’t need curses to stay small — they have patterns doing the job silently. Patterns of fear, of abandoning education halfway, of mocking ambition and glorifying survival. Patterns where dreams are passed over in favour of excuses, where nobody asks questions, and children grow up learning how to hustle but never how to build.
But the truth is this: patterns are not prophecies. They are habits passed down like old furniture — kept, defended, and repeated — until someone decides to break the cycle. Until someone opens their eyes and says, “Enough.”
And maybe that someone is you.
You’re not here just to exist. You’re here to evolve, to question what you’ve inherited, and to build something stronger. "When the family eats bitter kola without spitting, the children will grow up thinking it is sweet." You break the pattern by first noticing what keeps repeating. What is it in your family that holds people back? Is it the belief that education is for others? That rich people are evil? That small thinking is safe?
Then, you arm yourself with truth. You read what nobody read. You watch with intention. You take that free course. You ask questions. You grow your mind because the future you want can’t be built with the mindset that failed the past.
You also start choosing your company differently. You move from gossip rooms to growth rooms. You stop asking those without vision for permission to fly. Because "the lizard that falls from the tall tree and nods its head knows what it has survived." Elevation requires exposure, not excuses.
And then, you start to speak differently. You challenge family sayings like “we’ve never been the book type” or “people like us don’t make it.” You reject those silent agreements that make mediocrity feel normal. You speak life, until your tongue teaches your soul what’s possible.
You build new habits, no matter how small. Maybe no one ever saved in your house — you start with ₦1000. Maybe no one ever read at night — you start with one page. The goal is not perfection; it’s motion. Progress. Proof that it can be done differently. "A river that forgets its source will soon dry up" — but you, you're returning to build a new source for generations to drink from.
And finally, you raise the next generation with purpose. You let your children see you fight back, learn new things, speak with vision, and dream with action. Let your ceiling be their floor. Let your breakthrough be their normal. Because “a child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth” — but a child who is guided will carry the village forward.
You’re not dishonouring your family by rising — you are redeeming them. You are refusing to keep passing down the pain. You are proof that the story can change.
Break the pattern.
Build a new legacy.
Still here. Still becoming.
