By Young-Itiye Abiye Samuel
The way things are going, we can’t keep drifting. Too many of you are trapped in an academic storm right now, confusion dragging you one way, pressure crushing you from the other, and that quiet ache in your chest telling you something isn’t right. You feel it, don’t you?
So let me ask you plainly: Why has your fire gone dim? Why have we gotten so comfortable with “let it be” when our generation’s destiny is screaming “wake up”?
Pause for a second and think. Think about every sleepless night your parents endured for you. Every sacrifice they made so your today could exist. You’re not just living for yourself. You’re carrying more than your own dreams you’re carrying a name, a legacy, the hope of a whole generation on your back.
There’s a call on your life for leadership. Some of you are firstborns, some of you are the ones your family is counting on when nobody else can.Thats why you can’t fail.
That weight you feel isn’t random. It means something. It means you were chosen to lead, chosen to break cycles, chosen to be the answer to prayers that were prayed long before you were born.
Yes, life is hard. Yes, the pressure feels like it will crush your chest. And yes, some days it feels like you’re falling behind while you’re just trying to hold yourself together. But pain is not a reason to quit. Nobody promised you an easy road. If every great youth before us had stopped when the storm hit, none of them would have risen.
So endure. Stand tall even when your knees shake. Lift your head even when your mind is scattered.
Look at those who walked through fire before you and came out gold. Look at young people who carried heavier burdens and still found a way to rise. If they could, you can too.
And there’s one more thing you’ve been avoiding the shame, the guilt, the distance you’ve put between yourself and God. You keep running because you feel too broken to come back. But He’s not standing at the door with stones in His hand. He’s standing with open arms.
Come back. Cry if you have to. Tell Him everything. He doesn’t condemn the broken who return home. He forgives, He cleans, He restores, He leads you again.
Because even in your mess, even in your silence… He’s still your Shepherd.
Sit up, youths. He’s calling your name.
