A Reflection on 2025, and an Audacious Step into 2026

Today is the beginning of 2026, and I find myself feeling both empty and deeply grateful.

Empty—not because of what I failed to achieve, but because of what I did. There is a peculiar hollowness that sometimes follows growth, being rid of those extra weight when the version of you that struggled is no longer who you are, yet the future has not fully taken shape.

If I were asked to summarise 2025 in a single phrase, I would call it my year of confidence—a culmination of something that quietly began in late 2024. Throughout 2025, I grew in confidence in ways I never imagined: confidence in my skills, my decisions (especially my gut), my appearance, my beliefs, and my ability to endure.

That is not to say the year was a smooth sail. On the contrary, 2025 tested my faith repeatedly, and each time, confidence carried me through.

In mid-2024, I landed what felt like a dream job at the time—an undeniable upgrade from where I had been. I leapt at the opportunity without hesitation. I disrupted my life and moved to a different town far far away from family and friends and what I knew as home and comfort. Less than three months later, it was gone. I lost the job the very week of my 30th birthday.

As a young man approaching his thirties and suddenly unemployed, one might expect panic. Surprisingly, I was calm. I resolved to place my faith fully in Him—the One I trusted to make a way where none was visible. That does not mean doubt never crept in; it did. But faith remained louder.

Around that time, life offered me a moment of quiet affirmation. I met a young woman—a youth corps member who had just completed her NYSC—during a chance encounter on a vehicle. We spoke about life. She shared her fears about the uncertainty ahead, her longing for her mother, and her desire to return home. I shared my own reality: that I had just lost my job that very Monday.

We were different in many ways, yet alike in one crucial sense—we both believed in something bigger than ourselves. That belief gave us the confidence not to fear the future.

That season of unemployment did not last long, but it left its mark. It was a learning curve. Then, in early 2025, I secured another role—one that would again test my faith and almost destroy my confidence.

It was one of those opportunities that felt too good to be true. And it was. It came like chaffs, too light to hold onto and just as swiftly, it was gone with the winds. I was devastated. For the first time in a long while, I felt as though my life was going nowhere, as though time, people and chance were moving forward without me.

In quiet moments, I fixated on everything that was not working, everything I had not achieved. I cried. As I often do, I tried to hide the pain and simply push through it. But eventually, I found the courage to share my struggles. In doing so, I found clarity.

The lesson that anchored me was simple yet profound: do not live in the gap—live in the gain. Something I picked up from a pastor.

Living in the gap steals your joy. It forces you to focus solely on what is missing, while ignoring what has been achieved. For example, imagine a man who enrols in a gym to lose belly fat. After 30 days, he looks at his stomach in a mirror and concludes the gym is a waste of time and money, forgetting that he has gained something far more important—a habit sustained for 30 days. With consistency, that habit can compound into the very result he desires and could lose if he doesn’t recognise it.

That is what living in the gap robs you of: joy. And without joy, progress is lost, confidence erodes, faith weakens, and hope fades.

I lived in that gap for a while, until I chose to step out of it.

That realisation became one of the defining moments of my 2025. It reshaped how I measured progress and success. From that place of renewed confidence, I achieved many things—some small and ordinary, others deeply significant—across my social life, love life, spirituality, academics, and professional journey.

When I look back at the notebook containing my plans for 2025, I can only smile. Many goals remain unchecked. But life is not about flawless execution; it is about showing up. Failure only truly occurs when we stop trying.

As I step into 2026, I see this year as my year of audacity.

Audacity rooted in confidence built in the previous year. Audacity that dares boldly, loves deeply, and reaches unapologetically. I have laid the foundation; now it is time to build with courage. I feel, deeply and quietly, that this year will be a good one.

So I am traipsing into 2026 high on audacity and determination, committed to pursuing the desires placed in my heart.

My primary goal this year is simple: to be happy, to remain grateful for life’s small gifts, and to find someone with whom I can share them—and love fully. To do this, I must be intentional: prioritising what matters, building micro-habits, and shaping the character required for the life I want.

Here’s to audacity.
Here’s to growth.
Here’s to becoming.