Sunday Reflections: On Labor, Insight, and Knowing Your Place

“I returned, and saw, under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all.” Ecclesiastes 9:11 (KJV)

For years, the book of Ecclesiastes has been read to me twice by John Obidi, once by Olakunle Soriyan. But it never truly sank in until today. The message finally hit home:

That verse shook something in me. The only constant is change. Everything else fades. And the man who refuses to evolve, who insists the world must adapt to him, soon becomes a relic of a past era.

It’s okay to work hard, but it’s not okay to labour endlessly without direction. There's a thin line between diligence and futility. Intentionally put yourself where the probability of success is highest, then apply effort with precision. Don't sit around praying for acceleration while you're working backward in reverse gear. That’s not faith, it’s self sabotage disguised as hustle.

A lot of people blame money for their lack of success. But here's the truth: even with all the money in the world, if you’re armed with the wrong insight, you’ll burn through it and end up worse off. Others blame the absence of connections. But what good is a powerful network if you bring no value? You’ll still be treated like dead weight.

Yes, it’s okay to ask for help getting through the door. But what you do once you're inside, that’s entirely up to you: your values, your substance, and your character.

Recently, I made a personal resolution. I no longer take people's numbers at events for the sake of networking unless there's a clear value exchange. If I can't offer something tangible or vice versa. I keep my distance and just observe. Presence without relevance is pointless.

I’ve watched wealthy and influential people position themselves deliberately in physical spaces, spiritual spaces, and economic circles. They don’t just live in certain neighborhoods by chance. They don’t attend certain churches, mosques, or communities. Not only that, but they intentionally place themselves where success is most likely, because they understand something crucial: People like us do things like this. It’s more than behaviour, it’s culture. And culture compounds.

Seeing this has reshaped my thinking. It recalibrated my lens and reminded me that not everything that’s accessible is valuable. The lowest hanging fruit is often the most contested. You might get there first, but you won’t be alone. The real game lies in rising higher, going where others aren't yet bold enough to climb.

So I made another resolution:

I’m a king. I don’t twerk for the world, they twerk for me instead. I don’t clean up for acceptance, they align for me. I may not have everything I need yet, but I know who I am. I’m working on my mindset, on my posture, on my vision. Because when I arrive, I won’t just survive. I’ll thrive.

So no, I will not belittle myself. I carry a power greater than most can imagine, and it’s only a matter of time before the world begins to recognize it.