Some people leave quietly, but deeply.

Uncle Kolapo. Mr Elekuru. They did not make grand speeches. They simply showed up — consistently, quietly — and planted something that grew long after I understood what it was.

Then came voices through books. Voices I never met, but learned from. Over time, they gave me a language for what I was already feeling.

My environment did not change immediately. But my thinking did. Slowly. Then all at once.

This is simply a continuation — ensuring what was poured into me does not stop with me.