Do it Afraid!

Dear Bata,

I hope you have not discarded the thoughts, the questions, and the rumblings my letters to you have evoked. Or shall I say, invoked—because it should be more than an evocation. These questions shouldn’t be fleeting ephemeral stirs that are easily quenched, easily extinguished. The kind the birds pick at. The kind you push to the corner of your mind after the Deliveroo driver arrives with that pepperoni pizza. The kind that dissolves with the trembling of your mobile phone, or the thundering of a quad bike down those narrow South London roads.

I hope, indeed, that it is an invocation: a calling upon—a forceful calling to mind of the words in this letter. I hope you return to the letters again and again. invoking it, as a lawyer would, a lasting power of attorney, or the Fifth Amendment. Or as you would a higher power. Summon those thoughts, feed on them. Grow them.

You will need them to strengthen you, particularly at this time, as you go off to secondary school.

Your Ma says that, like some young people before you, you have asked to stay back in primary school.

You’re afraid no one will like you.
That you will not have any friends.
That the school will be too big, and you’ll get lost.

Firstly, you are speaking in hyperbole. Someone will like you.

Secondly, the fear of moving to a new, unploughed space is a universal fear—it doesn’t discriminate against adolescents. It is not ageist.

I remember a twenty-something-year-old ex student who had a long-held dream of working in healthcare (radiology), but needed to resit her Maths GCSE. She forever felt incapacitated by that one barrier. She often dreamed of working in a Radiology or Imaging Department; a quiet, darkened room, viewing scans: CT, MRIs, X-rays.

But what she needed to do was this:
A one-year Level 3 diploma that would prepare her for medical school as she missed the traditional A-level route.
She needed to pick up the phone or type “entry requirements” into Google.
She needed to register for the GCSE resits—held in May/June or November.
She needed to study independently or join classes at a local college or adult learning centre.
She needed to aim for at least a Grade 5 or 6 for competitiveness.

Most times, what you need to take you to that next level is simply to put one leg in front of the other.
Walk to the post office to send off that parcel, that document.
Get up from bed and sit by the desk. Send that email.
Click "send" on that message. Open the school gate and step through it.

And sometimes, Bata, that’s all you need to win. Just do it!

Fear is often a protective mechanism—it wants to keep you safe.
But not everything that keeps you safe helps you grow.

So, be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid... for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go Joshua 1:8

Courage is about showing up.
It’s about pushing through the fog of fear and saying, Here I am.
It’s about acting as if you’re on a mission from God—because you are.
Until you move like a warrior with a sword in the Spirit, you will suffer the heavy ache of unfulfilled potential.
Not because you lack ability—but because you listened too long to fear.

So, move, Bata. Move even with trembling knees.
As Joyce Meyer says: Do it afraid.
I say: do it with faith.

And don’t worry—you won’t get lost. You’ll find your way, one brave step at a time.

Cogito, ergo sum—yes—but also: ambulo, ergo vivo.
I walk; therefore, I live.

Small steps, Bata, creates a rhythm of movement. And Sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is simply get up and walk toward the thing that terrifies you.

Greet your Ma.

With love, always,
Your Auntie, Bassey

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A Thought to Leave You With

The bravest steps are often the smallest ones.
Across the room. Through the school gate. Toward the life you’re meant to live. Start small. Start scared. Just start.

Try the “Do It Afraid” challenge: Pick one thing this week that scares you a little and do it anyway. Tell me how it goes. Goodluck!