Loveleaf

We have all heard the phrase: “Relationships are hard work.” We hear it in podcast episodes, read it in self-help books, and repeat it to ourselves when things get rocky. And to a large degree, it’s true. Bringing two distinct lives together under one shared narrative is no small feat. Yet, somewhere along the line, we seem to have conflated "hard work" with "unnecessary complexity." We have started treating everyday interactions like high-stakes tactical chess matches, dissecting every text, tone, and pause for hidden meaning. I’ve been pondering this a lot lately. About a week ago, I stumbled upon a Facebook page called Collectively Married . Out of curiosity, I started watching the reels and scrolling through the feed. Despite its simple bio, the page quickly proved to be a goldmine of wisdom—a refreshingly grounded space for anyone who wants to approach love with genuine intentionality. Immersing myself in that content served as a gentle, much-needed wake-up cal...

Sometimes I come back from work and, the moment I open the gate, a few little juniors are already waiting for me. "Uncle!" "Uncle, umerudi?" Over time, I made it a habit to carry a few sweets or treats in my backpack because I know they'll be waiting. Some run toward me. Some jump on me. Some want me to carry them. Some are simply waiting for a hug. In those moments, a thought quietly creeps into my mind: "I think I'll make a great dad." But that's the expectation trap. It is easy to conclude that I'd be an amazing father because I enjoy the beautiful moments. Yet I haven't walked through sleepless nights, changing diapers, paying school fees, disciplining children, praying through their mistakes, sacrificing personal dreams, or carrying the emotional weight that comes with raising another human being. The smiles are real. The affection is real. But they are only a tiny part of fatherhood. The full picture is much bigger tha...