In a world that often glorifies competition and aggression, it’s easy to forget just how powerful kindness can be. Even in our closest relationships, the urge to be “right” or to “win” can sometimes take precedence over compassion and understanding. Sadly, empathy seems to be becoming a lost art in our society.
You’ve probably heard the saying, “Be kind—you never know what someone else is going through.” While that’s true, I’ve come to believe that we shouldn’t need a reason to be kind. Kindness shouldn’t be reserved for moments when we’re aware of someone’s pain. It should be our default mode of living—an instinct, not a reaction. A lifestyle, not a strategy.
A friend once asked me why I continued to be gracious toward someone who had treated both of us unfairly. My answer was simple: because it was the right thing to do. But I didn’t come to that conclusion easily—it was born from a painful lesson.
Back in March 2018, my elder brother’s wife had just given birth, and my mother was preparing to travel from Lagos to Kigali to help take care of her and the baby. In the months leading up to that moment, she had been experiencing health issues and had visited the hospital multiple times, but doctors couldn’t identify the cause. On the day of her flight, her condition seemed to worsen. At the airport, she struggled to keep her clothing in place, and I remember frowning at her, feeling frustrated by what I perceived as careless behavior. In my mind, I was embarrassed and thought she should be more composed in public.
What I didn’t know then was that it would be the last time I would ever see her in person. Not long after that day, she was diagnosed with stage 3 colon cancer. She had been trying to stay strong for all of us, even while her body was failing. I didn’t see it—not because it wasn’t visible, but because I was too focused on appearances instead of her well-being.
This is someone who had stood by me through my darkest hours—through illness, depression, and loss. She believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. She taught me what it means to love unconditionally. And yet, in a moment that should have called for tenderness, I chose judgment instead.
If I could relive that day, I would choose differently. I would choose grace. I would choose kindness. But I can’t change the past. I’ve since forgiven myself, but the weight of that moment—the regret—still lingers.
That experience has shaped the way I relate to others ever since. It taught me a hard but necessary truth: you don’t need to understand someone’s pain to treat them with kindness. You don’t need to see the whole picture to respond with empathy. Being kind isn’t about deserving—it’s about deciding.
The world becomes a little more livable when we lead with compassion. That’s why I now choose to extend to others the same grace God has extended to me. I choose to be slow to take offense. I choose kindness—not because others always earn it, but because it’s who I want to be.