Back To The Basics

Some of my readers have quizzed me about when my books will be released. I’ve been so busy establishing my online and print presence (by sending out articles to Websites and Magazines) that I kinda slacked off for a while *covers face in shame*. If you haven’t been following me online on other web pages, visit http://bit.ly/SC8aM4, http://bit.ly/TIRHne, http://bit.ly/TPzbj7 and http://bit.ly/TCb550 .

So I’ve resolved to go back to the original plan for 2012; that way when I look back at this year in retrospect, I won’t have any regrets. Till my next blog piece, I leave you with this story I wrote two years ago. Why put it up now? Well, that’s because it has become a testimony to me about the power of words. Someone read it then and today he has gone on to fulfill his musical aspirations, even becoming a nominee in the best gospel category in the 2012 South-South Music Awards in honor of artistes in the Niger-Delta region of Nigeria. I hope it inspires you as well.

ANY LAST WORDS?
“I loved to write… it was my pride and joy. The one thing I could sit in a corner and do for hours when I was eight. Dreaming of all my imaginary friends… listening to how they talked and playing in wonderland, a world I created. Then I fell in-love with movies as I entered my teens, because they gave expressions to thoughts put on paper. I tried to write stories and picture them as movies. In my mind they flowed just fine but on paper … I’d rather not say. So I proposed to study on writing, how to share my world and life with the world. I got books my friends’ parents used in England when studying journalism. I ravaged the books and thought I was an expert until I got multiple criticisms on my lexical abilities. I read up key points on English language in a bid to improve my command of English. I was told by well-meaning friends I had grown and my goal was fulfilled. I tried to get out stories based on the examples I saw in books – fiction and nonfiction – that I read in the university. Friends commended my tenacity in writing and encouraged me to take the writing beyond my bedroom. I tried but got slammed by series of rejections from publishers and editors.

Despondent I gave up on writing. My husband noticed without my ‘little green place’ I became a pain to live with so he urged me to go online and get knowledge from free online-courses and degrees, to help teach me what I lacked. I did. I spent my life gaining knowledge, trying out for writing competitions to know if I’d become better while working in my mundane job and raising kids that made my house a home I couldn’t get away from. I’m not saying getting knowledge is bad, but a little tryout in the world of practicals won’t hurt. Besides, what have you got to lose? Here I am, writing my last words almost nine decades later. I wish I dared the world and followed my heart, I won’t be here watching everyone around my coffin in black saying goodbye to my body lying in rest while my heart wrestles with eternity knowing the thing I loved the most I never excelled at it. Dear ones, follow your dreams and never let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Mercy raised her head to establish eye contact with her audience before she proceeded, “These were the words of my mother, Mrs. Grace Arile. And these are my words to you who hear me today. Life is too short to spend it in fear of not being perfect. Do your best and know you lived a fulfilled life in the end. Thank you.” Mercy said and exited the stage, leaving the crowd of secondary school children who looked upon her in utter silence.