It’s Monday morning.
My playlist is on. My laptop is warming up. Lagos is already noisy, generators humming, horns honking, WhatsApp buzzing with “Happy new month ” messages from people I haven’t spoken to in a while
And here I am, staring at a blinking cursor, asking myself the same question I’ve asked a hundred times:
“What’s the point of posting again today? Haven’t they heard it all already?”
In a world where everyone has something to say, it’s easy to believe that your voice doesn’t matter.
That maybe you should just keep quiet.
Maybe what you’re trying to build is too small.
Maybe your thoughts don’t sound as polished or profound as the next person’s.
But I’ve learned something:
It’s not the loudest voices that matter most. It’s the ones that carry truth, heart, and help.
Sometimes, the message someone needs isn’t wrapped in deep metaphors or viral buzz.
Sometimes, it’s the simple way you said it.
The way you told the story.
The way you made it human.
The way you sounded like them, not like someone performing for applause.
Even Jesus told parables.
He didn’t just drop prophecies or power plays. He used farm stories, the bride and groom , seeds, and coins.
Because connection matters more than complexity.
And that’s why I keep showing up.
Not because I always feel wise.
But because I know someone out there needs permission to speak, too.
Your voice matters,
Even if you’re still figuring it out.
Even if your sentences aren’t perfect.
Even if only two people clap today.
Even if you’re whispering in a noisy world. Because you’re not just speaking to be heard.
You’re speaking to help.
