It Begins With The End.

Interesting isn’t it? (Credit: Twitter)


I love writing. It’s therapy for my constantly overworked mind and I want to write more. I want to stop being afraid of myself, being afraid of the world and live while I can with what I have. I realize now that I don’t need to analyse the method in my madness — I just need to acknowledge it! So here goes nothing …


Often times, I find myself advising my friends on moving on — from relationships, to other friendships, jobs, churches and so on. Usually, those bits of advice tend to revolve around one theme: happiness.

“If it doesn’t make you happy, then just leave,” I often say.

The thing with giving advice — a lot of the time — is you most likely never take the ones you give out. Other times, your situation is just different from that of other people you have given advice to.

However, that last part is almost never entirely the same in any two cases — your situation can only be ‘similar’ to someone else’s, at best. Similar, but never ever the same.


I have been in paid employment for the better part of the last three years — up until a week ago. For that period of time, I have been creating content and telling stories around Nigeria’s tech ecosystem, amongst other things.

Obviously, this is something I love doing (why else would I do it for almost three years?) and something I would like to continue doing. But I have never been here before. I’ve never worked anywhere for that long. Being a tech journalist and creating content across spectra is all I know.

For the first few days, I reveled in my freedom and tried to do “all the things I have wanted to do but couldn’t” because work. Thing with this is I am clueless about what “I have always wanted to do.” Even the things I thought I always wanted to do, I either got through them in a couple days or my bank account put a dead stop to those dreams.

So what do I do with myself? How do I take the next step? How do I go from where I was to where I need to be? How to transition from someone that worked almost 100 hours per week to someone who had all the free time in the world?

My friends said I should’ve already known what I wanted to do after my last job — and I did know. But making that kind of switch is easier said than done. Especially in this Nigeria where everything is set up to frustrate you. I knew where I wanted my career to go and what I wanted to do with my life but getting to that point was another story entirely.

I started to get bored — something that is basically Kryptonite for a curious, effervescent person like me. That soon transitioned into a feeling of constant failure and ultimately led to mild bouts of depression. Then, I felt overwhelmingly unhappy.


I started writing this story in August, 2017. I usually can’t write in bits so this is more like a progressive collection of my thoughts over time.

I just hope I don’t regret it. Maybe I’ll share the rest. Maybe.