For most of my life, I've felt like things have been relatively easy for me, especially when I compare it to the lives of others. My life is like a rollercoaster of ups and downs, much like a chicken with a five-minute attention span, it is unable to pick a struggle and stick with it. There are moments when everything feels incredibly tough, only to be followed by periods where life seems inexplicably smooth. Other times, a difficult phase just leads to an even tougher one. However, I never dwell on my own hardships, because I tend to reflect on how my struggles compare when stacked up against others.
I remember a time during my undergraduate years when I would angrily call my mother, upset because she only sent me 5,000 weekly. I thought she was being unfair, even cruel. But this perspective shifted dramatically when one of my best friends, hearing my complaints, revealed with a look of disbelief that he only received 5,000 monthly, and that was in a good month. That was a moment of awakening for me. From then on, every time I received money from my mom, I made sure to send her a heartfelt thank you message.
Last year, I joined a program designed for budding "Tech Bros," aimed at sharpening skills and building a stronger personal brand for career success. Often, surrounded by these incredibly talented individuals, I would question what I was doing there. It's a habit of mine, questioning my place in settings I've worked hard to reach. Initially, I entered the program with an interest in product design, but by the end, I had pivoted to a sales representative role at the company.
The company's boss saw potential in me that I had only faintly recognized in myself. Part of me was excited to invest a few months in this new direction, fueled by his belief in me and my belief in myself - in part. Or perhaps I was just relieved to step away from product design. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed my creativity and competence in design, but it wasn't my calling. It didn't feel like something I wanted to dedicate my time to, even if it promised substantial financial rewards. So, accepting the sales position felt right despite the modest pay. When someone places their faith in you and offers you an opportunity, the logical response is to seize it and not disappoint them. I see myself as a logical person. So, I committed fully to the job, pouring my best efforts into it. Fortunately, my dedication began to show results.
That same year, a friend landed a job at a prominent tech company overseas known for creating "How to" videos. As is his nature to look out for his friends, he offered me and a few others an opportunity: for every high-quality video I produced, he'd pay me a dollar. While I'd love to give more details on this, I don’t want that brother losing his job on my account. The prospect of earning a substantial amount was incredibly motivating. I imagined churning out a thousand videos daily, but reality was a different story. Once I joined the team, I found myself struggling to make even ten videos a day. It became clear that this venture wasn't going to make me wealthy or push me closer to my baby boy dreams, so I shifted my focus. I decided to concentrate on maintaining a balance between quality and quantity.
I dedicated my time and energy to this project, but, as fate would have it, they had to let some people on the team go and they were basing their decision on who would be cut by who created the least quality videos. Let’s just say I returned to my regular job, moving on from this brief, eventful chapter. Don’t get it twisted, none of the things I have spoken about so far are things that I want to be known for or make a life out of but as I get older, I find myself more convinced in the things I don't want to become than by the things I wish to achieve.
Throughout my university years, my greatest hope was to become a filmmaker. My love for films is deep, and I'm confident that I have enough creative ideas to make something truly remarkable. I mean i cant be going through so many tough times for any other reason than for it to serve as inspiration to an Oscar-winning biopic. People often tell me I'm a great writer, and when you hear that from enough people, you start to believe it. It is also pressure because you also begin to fear letting them down. I mean i have tried to make a life out of it, I've been involved in nearly every aspect of writing – outlining, drafting, writing, rewriting, editing, even selling scripts. The only thing I haven't done is make my own film. I've even trued collaborating with others, believing in their potential and skill and that, but these partnerships have either fallen through due to circumstances beyond anyone's control or because they didn't share my level of belief in the project. A significant barrier to realizing my filmmaking dream, i believe is my tendency to rely too heavily on others. I sincerely believe in the power of collaboration and commit myself fully to it, yet I haven't seen much personal gain from these joint efforts. This sometimes makes me wonder if I might be part of the problem.
Earlier this year, I landed an incredible opportunity with a YouTube channel, focused on writing about rap and rappers. The stories i write for them centered around the peculiar hobbies of rappers – it turns out there's a whole audience eager to read about rappers' earnings, diets, feuds, romantic entanglements, and other personal details that humans should definitely not know about each other. The job paid in dollars, and for a while, life was looking up. I quickly moved up within the organization, and my salary grew accordingly. It felt like my life was transforming, a change I attributed largely to God and partly to my writing talent. But again, things began to shift when the channel owner started battling depression and sought help from an online therapist. The situation took a wild turn when it turned out that this therapist was a 'catfish' – the western word for ‘Yahoo boy’. Initially, the therapist seemed helpful, but soon began manipulating the owner, influencing him to distance himself from his friends, his faith, and eventually, impacting our salaries. Typically, I wouldn't involve myself in such personal matters, but this affected my income, and that's where I draw the line. In less than a month, I found myself jobless again, back to being a freelancer with just my day job to fall back on.
As a freelancer for several years, I've come to realize that the gains of freelance income is deceptive – it's as fleeting as the jobs themselves. One can toil for years and, in the end, only have the money to show for it. if that even comes. As i grow older, I crave more than just financial rewards. I yearn for recognition in my field, to be seen as an expert whose work carries weight and necessity.
Despite exploring various avenues, nothing has matched the sense of stability and peace of a traditional job. At one point, I even toyed with the idea of working in a bank, but I quickly dismissed it. I doubted my ability to handle the proximity to so much money without being overwhelmed by a sense of longing for what isn't mine. This thought alone detered me.
The year 2023 was painted with so many similar experiences – writing for different YouTube channels, a cycle of hiring and firing, finalizing drafts that were either discarded, used, or rewritten, and undertaking numerous business trips. Despite these varied engagements, deep down, I still consider myself a writer, first and foremost. This is true even though a significant portion of my writing seems to have been for no one in particular. My identity as a writer remains solid, not swayed by the disappointments of my professional journey. I've moved beyond the naive belief that a single significant piece of writing could be a life-changer. Living in Nigeria has harshly dispelled that fantasy. However, my passion for writing remains unshaken because there is nothing that compares to the sense of accomplishment and pride in the final product. Yet, I can't help but wish that, just once, writing would reciprocate the love and effort I've poured into it. Maybe in 2024.