Two nights ago, my youngest daughter walked into my room and announced she was ready to sleep. For the eight years she’s been on this earth, this has been a familiar ritual. As someone who now struggles with sleep, I can’t help but admire the effortless way she lies down, her eyelids gently closing in perfect serenity.

As she slept, I had the sudden urge to take snapshots of her face. I filmed a brief video, just a few seconds long. She looked so radiant, so angelic.

I found myself lost in the familiar daydream once more—the idea of rewinding time, returning to any age we wish, reliving cherished moments at will. My mind drifted to the playful antics of my first son, how he used to dart around the church with boundless energy, blissfully unaware of the mild chaos his laughter and noise stirred. Those precious days have slipped away, leaving only memories. Now, at 12, he’s quickly catching up to my height, a constant reminder of how fleeting time truly is.

Aging brings its share of changes. My chin now spots lots of greys. My skin carries a scattering of freckles. As much as I’ve dreamed of playing in a European football club, that feels like a far-off fantasy. LOL.

As I grow older, I’ve come to realize it’s about more than just the physical.

I find myself yearning for quiet moments more than ever. On Sundays, I visit my office, relishing the stillness that comes with the absence of staff. After completing my work, I take solitary walks along the rows of tall trees lining the grand buildings scattered throughout the area. The idea of inviting groups of people to my hotel room, a habit I embraced in my early thirties, now feels distant and unappealing.

Aging has tempered my raging passion to force change on people. I’ve always had this saviour’s complex. I’ve always carried this savior complex, a relentless urge to push change onto people, whether they were ready for it or not. Time, however, has softened that intensity. These days, instead of diving into heated debates, I find myself typing “OK Sah”  in response to comments I once would have fiercely contested. I’ll confess, though—there’s a quiet satisfaction in those sarcastic replies, and they still bring me a little joy. 😀

Aging in modern times has prompted a reevaluation of nutrition. As urbanization consumes increasing amounts of land, contemporary lifestyles have encouraged sedentary behavior. In my home, we no longer cook with seed oils. We never knew that stew cooked with palm oil could be so sweet. Thankfully, our kids are embracing the newness, sort of. I am extremely glad. We no longer use tinned tomatoes. We’re gradually shifting away from the use of MSGs in stews and soups. My wife and I are age mates and I wake everyday to see her read a lot. We follow similar Facebook accounts that teach nutrition and we exchange thoughts. Something must kill a man, but it’s foolishness to drink engine oil.

I cannot predict what tomorrow holds as the precious breaths granted to me by God are steadily whittled away with the passage of time—whether it marches or races forward. Yet, one thing remains certain: I am committed to cherishing and capturing the moments that unfold within these fleeting gifts.

And so should you.