Faithfulness in the Face of Pain

In a world often dominated by headlines of despair and disconnection, it’s easy to forget that the soil beneath our feet is rich with stories of resilience. We are not short of people whose lives have defied the circumstances of their birth. Across continents and generations, countless individuals have risen from the dust of poverty and pain, propelled not by privilege but by purpose.

In every village, every crowded city, every quiet home, there are lives lived with such grace and quiet strength that they deserve to be remembered, even if no statue is ever built in their honor. These are the men and women who carry in their hearts a flame: a vision for something better, something kinder, even if they may never get to meet the recipients of their kindness.

Africa is not short of people who, against all odds, stood their ground to fight for the liberation and empowerment of their people. And they did these things simply from faithfulness to the call and the deep cries in their hearts to stand among those worthy of being called heroes.

But, heroism, we must remember, does not always announce itself with grandeur. Heroes do not always fly through the air or wear capes. Sometimes, they are the ones who quietly step aside at the supermarket to let an elder pass. They are the parents who set aside personal ambitions to raise their children with love and intention. They are teachers in forgotten classrooms, farmers who protect ancestral seeds, nurses in remote clinics, and neighbors who show up when no one else does. They are government officials who defy popular practices and stand their ground against corruption. We have these heroes everywhere; we just need to allow ourselves to see them.

This particular article was inspired by a post on LinkedIn. It was posted by a gentleman named Chinonso Fidelis (Aproko Doctor) Egemba. He wrote:

I didn’t enjoy my childhood.

And no, it wasn’t because I didn’t want to, but because poverty gave me no room to.

The childhood I dreamed of was not the one I lived.

There were no vacations.

No fancy toys.

And often, not enough food.

But there were books.

Books that let me leave our cramped home and walk the streets of cities I’d never seen.

Books that helped me sit with characters from places I couldn’t pronounce.

Books that helped me build empathy… when I was surrounded by lack.

Those pages didn’t just help me imagine a better life.

They made me believe one was possible.

They made me curious.

And they made me human.

That same empathy now sits at the heart of everything we do at Aproko Doctor.

Whether we’re teaching someone how to manage hypertension in simple, local terms…

Or helping them catch early signs of disease through a video that feels more like gist than a lecture.

And when we built AwaDoc, that same childhood empathy followed us into product design.

Because we didn’t just want to build “a smart AI health assistant.”

We wanted to build something that felt human.

Something that didn’t just diagnose, but listened.

That didn’t ask you to type perfect grammar before you could be taken seriously.

Something that understood where you were coming from, because we’d come from there too.

So yes, my childhood was hard.

But maybe that’s what gave me the heart for this work.

Because sometimes, what looks like survival…ends up being the first step in service.

In conclusion

I was particularly captivated by the last statement, which says: what looks like survival…ends up being the first step in service.

Africa does not need more aid from sneaky foreign governments and spy agencies called NGOs. Africa needs more people with genuine hearts, passion, and faithfulness to what they have been blessed with. Within all of our pains and poverty are pathways and opportunities to help us remember what it means to be human and what it means to stand for the community that we have been blessed with.

Africa does not need more certificates, more degrees, or more false narratives about how mighty and grandiose Western or European civilization is. Africans need MEMORIES.

We need to remember what it means to be Africans and then be faithful to that meaning. And for every true and faithful hero out there, we see you. May your good seeds bear great harvests in due time.