Giving Back to Those Who Gave First: Reflections from the Lucky fo K’arugbo Jeun Initiative

By Hon Rotimi Wemimo Akinsola

There are moments in life that cut through the noise, moments that strip away the business of everyday living and bring you face to face with what truly matters.

Yesterday was one of those moments for me. I had the privilege of being present at the Lucky fo K’arugbo Jeun charity initiative, held at the iconic Akure Town Hall, Ondo State. The name itself carries weight and warmth a declaration of care, of remembrance, of a community choosing not to forget its roots.

This was not just an event. It was a movement. A deliberate, heartfelt effort dedicated to putting smiles on the faces of our elderly community members through the donation and sharing of essential materials. And from the moment I arrived, it was clear that something meaningful was taking place within those walls.

A Room Full of Living History

Walking into that hall, what struck me most wasn’t the organisation of the event, the crowd, or even the donations laid out in careful rows. It was the faces.

The faces of men and women who had seen decades pass. Who had raised children, buried loved ones, worked land, built businesses, navigated hardship, and emerged,still standing, still present, still full of stories that most of us will never fully know.

There was a quiet dignity in that room that demanded reverence. These were not people to be pitied. They were people to be honoured. And the Lucky fo K’arugbo Jeun initiative understood that distinction completely.

Too often, the elderly members of our communities are treated as afterthoughts, visited during festive seasons, remembered occasionally, but rarely placed at the centre of our attention and resources in a sustained, meaningful way.

What made yesterday different was the intentionality behind it. This was not a one-off gesture. It was a statement of values. A community standing up and saying: we see you, we remember what you gave, and we are here.

Beyond Presence
I am deeply humbled to have been recognised as a key facilitator and supporter of this cause. It is not a role I take lightly. But I want to be clear, recognition was never the motivation.

Showing up was never going to be enough, not when the need in front of us was tangible and our capacity to respond was real.

Beyond presence, we contributed crates of eggs and financial support to ensure that more of our elders could be catered for. It was a small offering in the grand scheme of what these individuals deserve, but it was given with a full heart. Because when you stand in a room with people who sacrificed silently for years, who gave without asking, who built without always seeing the results of their labour, you don’t calculate your contribution.

You Simply Give What You Can, And You Give it Gladly
That is the spirit the Lucky fo K’arugbo Jeun initiative embodies. It calls everyone who participates to move beyond passive sympathy into active, tangible support. And yesterday, I witnessed that call being answered beautifully by individuals, sponsors, and volunteers alike.

The Foundations We Stand On

There is a conversation our generation needs to have more honestly and more often,about the debt we owe to those who came before us.

We celebrate innovation, hustle, and individual achievement. We build careers, accumulate accolades, and speak fluently about legacy and impact.

But legacy is not only what we leave ahead of us. It is also how we honour what was left behind for us. The elders in that hall yesterday did not just age gracefully. They laboured. They endured. They held families together through economic instability, social upheaval, and personal loss. They passed down values, traditions, and wisdom that form the invisible scaffolding of who we are today, whether we acknowledge it or not.

Giving back to them is not charity in the transactional sense of the word. It is not a performance of generosity for public admiration. It is a debt being repaid, however partially. It is an acknowledgment that none of us arrived where we are entirely on our own. Someone prayed for us. Someone sacrificed for us. Someone stayed up late, went without, and pushed forward so that we could have a softer landing than they did.

To sit in that awareness and then to act from it is one of the most grounding things a person can do.

What Community Looks Like
Yesterday reminded me that community is not just a word we use to describe a geographic location or a shared identity. Community is a practice. It is a daily, active choice to show up for one another,especially for those who can no longer show up as forcefully for themselves.

The Lucky fo K’arugbo Jeun initiative is a model for what that practice looks like in action. It is organised, intentional, and rooted in genuine love for people. It does not wait for government intervention or institutional programmes to fill the gap. It rises, gathers resources, and moves,because the need is now, and the people who matter are here.

To every individual who contributed their time, resources, and energy to make this initiative a reality thank you.

To every sponsor who understood the assignment and gave generously, thank you. To the volunteers who showed up with their hands and their hearts thank you. You are the proof that our communities still have the capacity for profound, selfless love.

And to our elders, the ones who filled that hall yesterday with their presence and their dignity, you are not invisible. You are not forgotten. You are the reason many of us are who we are, and you deserve every celebration, every provision, and every act of care that comes your way.

Giving back to those who built the foundations we stand on is not just a responsibility.
It is an honour. And yesterday, it was my honour.