As a man raising a 3-year-old son in my twilight years, I find myself more resolved than ever: Entrenching the right beliefs in him is the most secure way to gift the world the legacy of a child grounded to become an immense blessing.
On May 16, the world marked the International Day of the Boy Child. For many, it passed with little fanfare. But for me, it stirred a sacred nudge, a call not just to speak as an advocate, but to pause and reflect deeply as a father.
I watched my son at play that day, his laughter filling the room, his imagination stretching boundaries I could barely predict. But beneath the innocence and joy, I saw more than a child. I saw a man in the making. That realization was not romantic; it was sobering. Because what we build into our boys today, they will build into the world tomorrow.
Societies do not spontaneously emerge. They are constructed, deliberately or negligently, block by block, belief by belief, generation by generation. The world we raise our boys in is the blueprint for the world they will eventually inhabit as men. If we want a world of integrity, compassion, courage, and purpose, we must raise boys who reflect those values long before they carry titles or inherit influence.
“As a man thinks in his heart, so is he.” (Proverbs 23:7)
We often say that habits shape destiny. That may be true, but it’s incomplete. Before habit comes belief. And belief is quietly formed in the crucible of childhood, through what boys see, hear, and absorb from parents, teachers, media, and culture. It is not simply what we say to them, but how we live before them that carves belief into their souls.
Too often, our approach to parenting, especially within faith communities, is transactional. We teach boys to pray for good grades, safety, or favor. But faith is not a divine vending machine. It is a lifelong journey of knowing God, not using Him.
The apostle Paul captured the essence of this relationship in his letter to the Ephesians: “That you may receive the spirit of wisdom and revelation in the knowledge of Him.” (Ephesians 1:17–18)
That is what I desire for my son. Not blind ambition, but anchored identity. Not comparison, but conviction. Not religious performance, but personal revelation.
“Lo, I come, in the volume of the book it is written of me, to do Your will, O God.” (Psalm 40:7)
Every child, every boy, has a “volume of the book” written about him. Our task as parents, mentors, and nation-builders is not to write that book for them, but to help them discover it. To raise boys who don’t merely inherit society, but reform it.
This will require a recalibration of our parenting goals:
From success to purpose
From performance to preparation
From reward to responsibility
Our boys must learn that true strength is not in domination, but in restraint. That leadership is not about titles, but about service. That their worth is not defined by applause, but by obedience to the God who authored their lives.
The International Day of the Boy Child must become more than a symbolic date. It must become a collective conviction, a rallying cry for homes, schools, places of worship, and governments to take seriously the formation of boyhood.
Because if we fail to raise anchored boys, we risk unleashing unmoored men into a world already groaning under the weight of leadership without character and power without purpose.
To my son, Tieriayooluwa, and to every boy carrying a divine blueprint:
You matter.
Your purpose is sacred.
And the world desperately needs the man you are becoming.
May you grow not just in size, but in wisdom.
Not just in strength, but in surrender.
Not just in knowledge, but in the fear of the Lord.
We owe our boys more than survival.
We owe them substance.
