If you earn £3000 in Nigeria , you’re better than anyone who earns £2000 in the UK 🇬🇧 —- This is what you need to know and no one is saying it. 👇🏻

Day 30: there is no difference between a pessimist who says, “Oh, it’s hopeless, so don’t bother doing anything,” and an optimist who says, “Don’t bother doing anything, it’s going to turn out fine anyway.” Either way, nothing happens. __YVON CHOUINARD, founder of Patagonia

Day 29: that you deserve it doesn’t mean you’d get it.

Day 28: we can spend our lives searching for the perfect man or woman and end up largely alone. Perfection itself is a convenient excuse to avoid commitment and the problem is not that people fall short; our problem is the quiet belief that love should arrive without friction.

Day 27: be yourself.

Day 26: “…an old woman is always uneasy when dry bones are mentioned in a proverb.” At first glance, it sounds like just another cultural saying, sharp, witty, and easy to dismiss. But proverbs endure because they carry uncomfortable truths. This one, in particular, points directly to the quiet relationship between what unsettles us and what we are trying to hide from ourselves. Triggers are rarely random. When a statement, joke, proverb, or idea provokes a disproportionate reaction in us, it is usually brushing against something unresolved. The old woman is not disturbed by the proverb because of its cleverness; she is uneasy because it touches a reality too close to home. The mention of dry bones awakens fear, memory, or vulnerability she would rather not confront. This is how triggers work in all of us. We often believe that what offends or irritates us says something profound about the world, about people being insensitive, rude, or wrong. Sometimes that is true. But more often, the intensity of our reaction reveals something internal. A sore spot. An insecurity. A truth we have not fully made peace with. The louder the emotional response, the more likely it is that the issue runs deeper than the surface. Watch what provokes defensiveness in you. Watch what makes you instantly angry, overly sarcastic, or eager to shut down a conversation. Watch the topics you avoid, the jokes you cannot laugh at, the criticisms you interpret as personal attacks. They sometimes show you where you are fragile, not necessarily where others are cruel. This does not mean every trigger is a flaw or something to be ashamed of. Some triggers are scars from real pain. Some are reminders of losses, failures, or fears that still matter. But ignoring them, or constantly blaming others for activating them, keeps you stuck. Awareness is the first step toward freedom. The wiser response is not immediate reaction, but reflection. Why did this bother me so much? What exactly did I hear? What fear or memory did it awaken? When you ask these questions honestly, you begin to separate the message from the emotion. You stop fighting shadows and start addressing substance. In this sense, triggers become teachers. They point you toward areas that need strengthening, healing, or deeper understanding. What irritates you today may be highlighting what you need to grow out of, grow through, or grow beyond. So yes, watch what triggers you. Not with judgment, but with curiosity. Because very often, your reaction is telling a more accurate story about your inner world than the event itself ever could. In Things Fall Apart, the context of this proverb deepens its meaning. The elders are discussing Obiako, whose visit to the oracle exposed a bitter truth about his father. Obiako sought guidance on why his sacrifices brought no prosperity, only to be told that the problem did not begin with him; it began with his father. The oracle’s words stripped away any comforting illusion and forced Obiako to confront an inherited failure. In Igbo cosmology, this is no small matter. A man’s life is not isolated from his lineage. The shadow of the father stretches long over the son. It is in this moment that Okonkwo lets out an uneasy laugh. The joke touches something he has spent his entire life running from. The mention of failed fathers, inherited weakness, and ancestral burden reminds him of Unoka, the father whose memory he despises and fears. Okonkwo’s laughter is not amusement; it is exposure. Like the old woman unsettled by talk of dry bones, he reacts because the proverb points directly at what he cannot bear to face. This reminds us that what disturbs us most is often what we recognize in ourselves. And when an event, a comment or someone’s attitude makes us uneasy, it is worth asking not what it means, but why it irritates us.