ASSOCIATE PROFESSOR AWODOYIN OF TASFUED IS 40

RESILIENCE: It’s Okay Not to Be Okay, But It’s Not Okay to Quit. (Long Post Alert)

DEDICATION

To the three little ones I never got to hold, you taught me that life is fragile.

To my two boys, my husband and my family, you give me the strength to protect it.

And to every young person reading this who feels like they are drowning:

Please, keep swimming. The shore is closer than you think.

INTRODUCTION: The View from Floor 40

I turn 40 today, huraaaay!

When you look at my profile, you see the highlights. You see the Associate Professor of Library and Information Science, past head of department, two-time recipient of Carnegie fellowship and now the Sub-Dean of Student Affairs, Tai Solarin Federal University of Education. You see the entrepreneur formulating preventive health products. You see the smiling wife of a fellow PhD holder and the mother of two energetic boys.

You see the results. You rarely see the process. Gbam!

If you could see the ‘deleted scenes’ of my life, you would see a woman in a hospital bed for eight weeks, staring at the ceiling, wondering if her body had failed her. You would see a researcher writing her thesis at this time, but all books and laptops had to be withdrawn because she was told that the reading and writing subconsciously was affecting the life that was trying to be formed in her womb. 

I wrote this short book not from the angle of perfection that you should castigate yourself, but because I see too many young, brilliant, talented students crumble when the first wave of life hits them. You think that I have always been strong. You think that resilience means you never get hurt.

That is a lie.

Resilience isn't about having a heart of stone. It’s about having a heart that breaks, heals, and keeps beating for its purpose.

This is my story at 40 years. It is a story of three losses, three major surgeries, and the stubborn refusal to stay down.

CHAPTER 1: The Fog and the Focus (The Academic Journey)

They told you that a PhD is a test of intelligence. It isn’t. A PhD is a test of endurance!

I completed my PhD in four years. In the academic world, that is fast. On paper, it looks like a straight line of success. But life does not move in straight lines.

During those four years, I was fighting a battle no one saw in the lecture hall. I was trying to bring life into the world while trying to birth a thesis. During the process, I had three miscarriages. For the sake of context, I started my PhD journey in 2013 and got married in 2014. I had our first child in 2016. After the third miscarriage, I had to undergo a major surgery. Before the last miscarriage, I was confined to a permanent bed rest, just sleeping and eating, for eight weeks because I was ‘disturbing’ the foetus with my reading and writing. Alas, after the eighth week, the life of the foetus was cut short, ops! another miscarriage. Post-surgery life meant six weeks without a steering wheel, which effectively turned my husband into my personal chauffeur. Huge shout-out to the “Odogwu” for holding it down and getting me everywhere I needed to be!

Imagine the setting: I was supposed to be analysing data, organising information, and contributing to the body of knowledge. Instead, I was lying in a hospital bed, facing the crushing reality of loss. The emotional pain was a fog so thick I couldn't see my future.

But here is the first lesson I want to teach you: Your work can be your anchor.

I didn't ignore the pain. I cried. I grieved. But I also opened my laptop. Even when I was ‘not okay, I did small things. I read an article. I wrote one paragraph. I organised one section of my bibliography. I had to forgo my sleep most times.

I discovered that discipline is not the absence of emotion. Discipline is the ability to act despite emotion.

If I had waited until I felt ‘very perfect’ to finish my PhD, I would probably still be writing it today. I finished in four years, not because I was a superwoman, but because I refused to let my grief become my identity. I was a grieving mother, yes. But I was also a researcher. I held onto that part of myself to keep from drowning (Thanks to my ever-supportive husband, my supervisor and family members)

The Lesson: You do not have to ‘get over it’ to keep going. You can carry your sadness and your textbooks in the same bag.

CHAPTER 2: The Passenger Seat (Surrender & Support)

I am a doer. I am an entrepreneur. I make things happen. So, when I had to undergo major surgery that left me unable to drive for eight weeks, I felt like I had lost my superpowers.

For eight weeks, I was grounded. I couldn't rush to campus. I couldn't run errands for our business and family. I was physically vulnerable and dependent on my hubby

For a young person, dependency feels like failure. We are taught to be independent. But independence has a limit.

This is where my husband stepped in. We are a house of two PhDs, but in that season, titles didn't matter. He became my hands and feet. He drove me. He cared for me. He carried the load I physically couldn't.

I learned that resilience is a team sport.

There is a toxicity in thinking you must do it all alone. That is not strength; that is ego. Real resilience is having the humility to say, “I am broken right now. Can you help me?”

Because I allowed myself to rest, because I allowed my husband to take the wheel, I healed. If I had tried to push through the pain too early, I probably would have caused permanent damage.

The Lesson: Sometimes, the strongest thing you can do is sit in the passenger seat and let someone else drive while you heal.

CHAPTER 3: The Formulation of Life (Turning Pain into Purpose)

Why does an Information Professional formulate health products?

It seems like a strange pivot.

I realised that we spend too much time treating sickness and not enough time building immunity. I became obsessed with preventive health. I didn't want others to go through the physical struggles of ill health if they could avoid it by being informed.

So, I became an entrepreneur. Our business wasn't born out of a desire for money; it was born out of a desire for solutions.

This is the secret to resilience: Alchemy.

Alchemy is the process of turning lead into gold. Resilience is the process of turning pain into purpose. I took the ‘lead’ of the heavy, dark experiences of my battles, and I turned them into ‘golden products’ that help people live healthier lives.

The Lesson: Don't just suffer. Use your suffering. Let your struggles inform your career. If you struggled with math, become the best math teacher who understands the confusion. If you struggled with health, build the solution.

CHAPTER 4: The Leadership Charge (A Letter to the younger generation, especially my students)

Now, I sit in the office of the Sub-Dean of Student Affairs/ Postgraduate coordinator. I see you walk in.

I see you when you fail a course.

I see you when you are broke and tired.

I see you when you are heartbroken by a failed relationship. 

I see you wanting to quit.

You look at me and think, she doesn't understand. “She is an Associate Professor.”

But I do understand. I look at you, and I see the three babies I lost. I see the scars on my body from surgeries. I see the nights I studied while my heart was bleeding.

And because I love you, I will tell you the truth: You are allowed to fall apart.

Come to my office. Tell me, “It’s unfair.” I will listen. I will validate your pain. It is okay not to be okay.

But you cannot stay there.

You have a degree to finish. You have a business to build. You have a destiny to fulfil.

Life may knock you down at 20, at 30, and at 40. If you quit now because of a failed grade or a hard season, you are practising how to quit for the rest of your life.

I want you to practice how to stand.

CONCLUSION: The Permission Slip

I am 40 years old today. I am happy. I have a husband who is my partner. I have two handsome boys who call me “Mummy”. I have a career that fulfils me.

But I earned this view. I climbed up here with a heavy backpack.

So, here is your permission slip for your 20s and 30s:

 Permission to Cry: Granted.

 Permission to Rest: Granted.

 Permission to Fail: Granted.

 Permission to Quit: DENIED.

Happy Birthday to me. And a Happy Future to you.

Now, get back to work.