On my mind - April 2026

4 min read

Whatever is strange, whatever is quirky, whatever is deeply fascinating, whatever is completely obscure, if there is any curiosity, if there is any rabbit hole worth falling down, think on these things.

Here is what occupied my mind in April:

  • Artemis II. Space is mind-blowing, and I hope I get to go in my lifetime. I cannot imagine what the astronauts felt seeing the vastness of space, and it made me reflect on how helpless we are as a species. We burned over 700,000 gallons of fuel to send four people around the Moon, and they still could not simply step out of the capsule while in orbit. It is humbling to realise we may not advance fast enough, in my lifetime, to explore the galaxy in any serious way. How can any of this be random?

  • The divinity of music. I submit that music is a pointer to the divine. I used to be in the choir as a teenager and, even though I probably did more harm than good to the congregation’s ears, I still cannot help being moved by a mass choir. There is something about polyphonic music that reaches beyond merely being “nice” to listen to. Time will not permit me to say much about the beauty of Sanctus by the Libera boys, or choral renditions of Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing, or Pachelbel’s Canon in D. These are not just pleasing to hear; they move the soul toward awe, longing, and unity. They seem to launch us beyond something merely material, and that raises the question: are these experiences simply psychological, or glimpses of a deeper, possibly divine order?

  • Slavery in the Old Testament. There are many things in the Old Testament that leave a lump in the throat. Slavery is already a hard pill to swallow, even before the more disturbing accounts of war. I have a digital copy of Paul Copan’s Is God a Moral Monster? to help me make sense of these texts. I just hope it does not end up in reading purgatory. And the question that keeps pressing me is this: is progressive revelation just a theological cop-out, especially when idolatry appears to be confronted far more directly?

  • The humanities. I find myself more drawn to the humanities with each passing month than to the sciences. By “sciences,” I mean STEM, which makes up most of my background. The shift makes sense to me now. The humanities feel closer to home: they wrestle with pain, meaning, guilt, hope, and the burden of being human. They ask not only what is happening, but why it is happening to us. Nietzsche says, “He who has a why can endure any how.” Job asks why. Even the sirens tempt Odysseus with knowledge. It seems our deepest hunger is not just to know facts, but to find meaning we can survive on.

  • The falsehood in music videos. I was recently cast in a music video, and it was my first time seeing the machinery up close. Fascinating. We all know lip-syncing is part of the deal, but watching the takes, timing, and rehearsed spontaneity made me wonder why we accept the illusion so easily. Is it pure aesthetic efficiency, or have we learned to prefer the feeling of authenticity to the fact of it?

  • The limitation of writing. As powerful as writing can be, I still find it limiting as a medium for the experience I want my reader to have. I have been thinking about pairing essays with a soundtrack that rises and falls with the intensity of the text. In Part 4 of my Inversion of Values essay, starting from “I look at his terrifying, impossible standard. I look at my own life. I look at my own pride. I look at my own ambition,” the cadence is meant to accelerate, almost like a breakdown. Then, right before “I am human. All too human,” everything should slow down: dark, quiet, then a solemn violin. I worry it is too much to demand that the reader construct all of that internally from text alone. That is one reason I love theatre: it does that emotional choreography for you. It builds intensity to a climax and then drops you into silence, grief, or collapse. I cannot get enough of it.

  • AI, music, and the Bible. We live in absurdly creative times, so it was only a matter of time before the Bible got reeled in too. I did not think Colossians could slap over a jazz beat, but here we are: listen here. The question I am asking now is whether this could genuinely help people read Scripture more. The ancient world was heavily oral; maybe rhythm and recitation are not a gimmick but a return.

  • Political identity. In trying to form my own political views, I have been paying attention to both the Nigerian presidential landscape and the mayoral politics in my local council. Politics is a touchy subject, and these conversations escalate quickly for understandable reasons. Politics has real-life consequences, and I have learned that the brain can register threats to political identity almost like physical danger. I am not exempt from that. I have made comments in the past with very little skin in the game, but talk is cheap. What I am really trying to understand is how you, yes you, make political choices. How much of that process is reason, and how much is identity?


Share what is on your mind. I read everything. No promises I will reply to all of them, but if something hooks me, I will reach out.

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