ME AS A WRITER

ME AS A WRITER - a personal content II

A writer, that is the person I have come to be, but did I begin as that?

Humans they say become who they are as a result of past experiences and encounters. I used to be someone who had the problem of expression. Either in words (spoken or written) or actions, I didn’t know how to express my feelings, thoughts and ideas. This gave people a very wrong impression about me. Many people saw me as ‘cold and stone-hearted’ while some just perceived me to be naturally ‘inexpressive’. I couldn’t find the courage to speak out when I was supposed to and I suffered greatly for it. I thought I was cool like that and anyone who wanted to be with me either as a friend or otherwise would have to understand. Little did I know that that was the beginning of my problem. It got so bad that whenever people offended me, I would rather keep quiet and lament silently than talk (speak out). All of these changed when I gave my first trial at writing; a scandalous one if I might say. 

A group of girls got on my wrong side in senior secondary school and because I couldn’t face them to speak up about my dissatisfaction of their actions, I wrote a scandalous article titled ‘The Four of Them’. It didn’t start well not to talk of it ending well. I was so pissed and naïve that I wrote it (the article) with my handwriting (which most people in my class could easily identify) and kept it in the locker of one of these girls. This article was ‘published’ and ‘publicised’ by these girls and I became agitated. Several people confronted me on it but I denied knowing anything about it even it was obvious that I wrote it. My first attempt at writing was one filled with rage, anger, hate and so many other negative emotions that I didn’t feel good after writing it. It took a while before the whole scandal died down because this article went round the school. I was always moving around the school with my head down. The rest of that story is one I don’t like to think about.

Irrespective of the failures of first attempts, man must always learn to ‘try again’ or ‘try harder’. I stopped writing for a while until I left secondary school and got admitted into the university. I was to study English language and Education. It doesn’t come easy, does it? As a language student, you had to read more and write as much as you have read. Since I wasn’t the expressive type, I was mostly indoors and always caught up in thoughts. Thoughts of things; diverse things of different nature. Staying indoors made me ruminate about things in the box and ‘out of the box’ so I developed a behavioural psychology kind of mindset, what people call being ‘opinionated’. I had opinions and views about everything I came in contact or ‘in thought’ with. I began jotting down ideas I had in my head. Most of these ideas about things were vague and not concrete. After a while, I started narrowing down these ideas into writeable topics.

Few months into my first semester in school, something changed about me. I had to talk as a language student (speaking being one of the skills of language), I needed to be expressive and vocal at least sometimes if not at all times. So I started talking, somehow, anyhow, I just wanted to talk and be expressive. I began to learn how to interact with people and I ended up becoming playful surprisingly. I was not totally cool with this new side of me because I didn’t feel the whole interactive process completely. This was because apparently, something was missing, something needed to be added to the interactions I was engaging in at that point in time. I decided to write poems about things, people and life. The first few ones were hard to compose because it was a new task for me even if most of my course mates were already ‘Wole Soyinka’ in poetry. As time went on, I enjoyed writing these poems; they became another medium of expression. I thought this was going to be the saving grace for me but after a few attempts, it felt like something was missing. For several months, I did not write any poems but I was consistent with the jotting down of ideas. 

At times in life, your hobby becomes your job while for some people, their job has to be their hobby and the same time their means of livelihood. In my case, it was neither. I was just writing because I wanted to express myself. The urge to write longer materials other than poems began with articles of few paragraphs. I never really gave it much thought because it seemed as though I was too busy to write. The world works in mysterious ways because I started getting credits for the small pieces I wrote that I was eager to embark on longer writing exercises. I began writing at least three to four articles in a week and at times. At times, I wrote two in a day and none throughout the remaining days of the week.

Initially, I was making use of a jotter (notepad) to write these articles but when I exhausted this jotter, I decided to get a notebook; it seemed as though I was beginning to enjoy writing these longer pieces. Days and weeks went by and I continued writing four articles per week or five per month. In a few months, I had written over thirty (30) articles. It became obvious that I enjoyed the art and act of writing so I delved into commentaries and other forms of writing. I was writing almost every day of the week that I became ‘known’ for my writings and I got the ‘writer’ tag from close friends. Writing was so much fun that I started sharing my works on different platforms. I wanted to know how far I had gone in the art and act of writing so I gave my write-ups to people to read, digest, criticise and comment. I found a new hobby, a new bride and finally, a medium of expression. 

People brought their poems, articles, short stories and commentaries to me for editing, proofreading and criticism. I became known in my own little way by just doing what I found interesting. On some days, I would have several ideas on topics to write on but I either got lazy or had a clouded head which is known as ‘writer’s block’. At times, I had to force myself to complete a writing exercise especially on days I did not feel like doing anything or had clouded thoughts. I started getting recognition from students in my department. I was beginning to receive editing jobs; I edited speeches, announcements, publications and several write ups. It felt like the only way I would gain much admiration was through my writings so I studied more on it; read a lot, reached out to a few people who I knew were well-grounded in the art and act of writing.

Writing became synonymous to good vibes for me. Appraisals kept coming in and little stipends followed suits. I got recognition and money for my prowess in writing. Finally, I was communicating and expressing myself to not just a few people but a wide range of people. I choose blogging as an entrepreneurial skill in my 300 level. I opened a blog courtesy of a recommendation from one of my language Professors, Professor Mahfouz Adedimeji who was in-charge of the blogging class. I found a broader platform to showcase my writing. I was charged up to do so well in the blogging class. I had to write several new contents for my new blog and at the same time I needed to impress the lecturer-in-charge of the course. By the grace of God, I had a distinction in the course and I was so happy. 

Embarking on this journey of self-discovery came as a result of several things ranging from heartbreak to disappointments, pain, depression, problem of acceptance by family and friends and at the early stage, self-esteem issues. I have been able to tackle most of these with/in my writings and found solace so to say in the art and act of writing. Writing is life, words are golden. Instead of using words to hurt people, why don’t you make use of them to tackle real life issues and bring smiles to faces of people? 

I am Quadri AbdulQudus Bolaji and I am a writer. Thank you and God bless you.