In a world torn by war, inequality, and despair, legacy often feels like a distant dream. But every so often, a story breaks through the noise — a story that reminds us of what it means to live for others, to give beyond our time on earth, and to love without borders.
One such story is that of Pope Francis and his surprising final wish: to transform the popemobile — the iconic vehicle from which he once waved to throngs of faithful — into a mobile health clinic for the children of Gaza. At a time when the world is fractured and the headlines feel relentless, this act of compassion and foresight offers a roadmap to what legacy could truly mean.
It is more than symbolism. It is a substance in service. And it echoes something I hold close to my heart: the belief that our purpose must outlive our pulse. Though May is not my birthday month, it is a month I have chosen to adopt this year with new intentionality, anchoring it to an affirmation I now declare boldly:
“Manifesting Abundant Yield” is my mantra, my meditation, and my movement — not just for me, but for everyone on this planet.
From this posture, I offer four legacy reflections worth remembering. May they ignite your own purpose, and inspire a new kind of generosity of spirit.
1. Legacy: Not what you rode, but who you reached
We live in a world that often idolizes material things: the car you drive, the watch you wear, the house you own. But Pope Francis’ posthumous request reframes that narrative. The very car he was most known for — the popemobile — is now being repurposed into a lifeline. Outfitted with vaccines, diagnostic equipment, infection test kits, and staffed with medical personnel, it will soon reach children in Gaza’s most neglected zones, where hunger, trauma, and illness have become everyday realities.
This is not just a mobile clinic. It is a mobile message:
Legacy should be measured in lives touched, not luxuries owned.
2. Every child deserves a future, not just a hashtag
Pope Francis once said: “Children are not numbers. They are faces. Names. Stories. And each one is sacred.” That truth is both beautiful and heartbreaking in light of Gaza’s humanitarian catastrophe, where over a million children face starvation, displacement, and trauma, while the world scrolls on.
As a mental health advocate and founder of the African Institute of Mind, I know all too well how malnutrition impacts not only physical health but mental and emotional development — especially in children. Trauma left untreated becomes generational pain. Let this month be a global call to do more than care — we must act. Gaza’s children are not statistics. They are the soul of tomorrow. And they must be protected today.
3. Your milestones can become movements
Though May is not my birthday month, it marks a significant turning point in my spirit and strategy. Since the pandemic, I’ve repurposed my own birthday annually as a vehicle for mental health awareness and fundraising — particularly toward a dream that is growing clearer by the day: To launch Africa’s first Mobile Mental Health Clinic by 2026.
We envision a clinic that moves — because healing must be mobile when pain has no address. It’s not just about mental health advocacy; it’s about access, dignity, and justice. And it’s my invitation to others to turn their milestones — birthdays, anniversaries, retirements — into movements.
Just like the popemobile, your personal celebrations can become communal healing stations.
4. Repurpose pain into purpose
Perhaps the most powerful legacy reflection of all is this: transformation is possible. A symbol of status can become a sanctuary. A life marred by hardship can become a mission. Pain can be retooled into purpose.
In my own life, I have encountered moments of burnout, moments of loss, and seasons of invisibility. But they were not the end of my story — they were the forging ground. The African Institute of Mind was birthed out of both passion and pain. Today, we support communities with tools for healing, self-awareness, leadership, and joy.
Pope Francis’ final gift to the world teaches us that we don’t need to start over — we need to start where we are, with what we have, and make it count.
Conclusion
A call to manifest an abundant yield
We are standing at a crossroads globally: wars rage, economies falter, mental health declines. And yet — there is still hope. There is hope in compassion, in community, and in legacy.
This May, I stand in alignment with a simple but potent declaration: Manifesting Abundant Yield.
Not just financially. Not just professionally. But spiritually, emotionally, and communally. I declare this not only over my own life, but over yours — and over the lives of the children in Gaza, who may yet be saved by a moving vehicle once used to bless crowds and now redesigned to heal the forgotten.
So I ask you:
• What will your legacy be?
• How will you turn your resources — your time, talent, platform — into healing?
• What vehicle in your life might be repurposed to serve others?
