Yeepy, it’s day two and we are counting babe! #WinterABC2021 continues.
One question people will never get tired of asking. How did you become a writer?
To be frank, I don’t know.
For real, I don’t. I’m all blank and void when it comes to this question. Look, it’s not like becoming a doctor that I wished to be a writer when I grow up. I believe it was embedded within me
I didn’t know it as a kid that I am a writer. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t even written on my forehead when I slipped into the world. I’m neither saying I just woke up one day and I was a writer.
Writing is an art to be embraced, but the ability to ve creative is like a cancer. Sometimes you will carry it for years not knowing what is within you. Until one day it chooses to emanate from within.
I remember at one point writing a lot of small stuff inconsistently. I would write today and then leave it there. Only to write again next month, or maybe after three months. I always had this desire to tell a story, but I didn’t know how.
In 2014 I bought myself a small notebook that I kept to myself. I started imitating poems we analysed in school. Slowly, I developed a couple of poems. I never showed them to anyone.
With the insane bunch of friends I had, one of them sneaked into my bag and found the notebook. Before I knew it, everyone knew I was a poet. Imagine the confusion of being praised knowing you have not done anything.
I felt undressed when I realized people have read my stuff.
Rule 1. Don’t take a look at a creative’s content if they didn’t show you.
It was a complete violation of private space. Anyway, I had to live with it now. Everyone knew and wanted more. I started writing more and they loved it. Then yeah, I became a writer.
I have with time gradually evolved into a better writer. Today I woke up better than I was yesterday, but it is what it is.
Don’t you dare think it’s as easy as I make it. I’ll tell you tomorrow the greater story about my writing trip. I’ll go grab a cup of coffee. It’s winter here in Africa and I surely need lots of it (it’s just an excuse).
Have you connected with me yet?