MMXXII: Polarity — A love letter

Prologue

‘the most useful thing one can do with empty hands is to hold on’ — Ocean Vuong

Sometime in June, he wrote:

“It’s been a weary six months or thereabout. It’s a miracle I made it so far without slipping body and soul into full-blown depression. On most days, I keep a cavalier air about me, and it’s like nothing’s happening to me. Then I wonder if I’ve grown numb that my travails hardly bother me. On other days, it hits me like waves crashing against rock piers at sea. The latter comes on days when I hop on Twitter, the famed abode of vawulence, gender wars, and what nots.

What’s on there that evokes such? Well, it’s the wins, such as creatives landing dream roles or gigs, copping new gadgets, and when they put out great work. Seeing all of these has me awash with a feeling. Is it envy? I’m not exactly sure. It could easily have been me. But alas, here I am. Seated. In this depressing ambience of a room. In this lonesome house. Where I slowly waste away as if afflicted with dystrophy.

It comes on days when I need to pack some pecuniary punch to get stuff done, but you can’t draw much from a mostly empty well. Someone with abilities like mine isn’t deserving of a lot such as this! Yes, I’m better compared to the previous year, but it is nought if it doesn’t glint off my standard of living. I don’t know how long my bulwark of resilience will hold out against further battering.

I’m putting so much in, but there is only so much you can get with what you have. Unless Lady Luck, who seems to ever frown at me, smiles at you. Or some benevolent spirit who appears to tarry in coming to my aid cracks the proverbial palm kernels for you. I am holding on to hope even though it reeks mostly of futility. Because what else have I got to do than hope?”

Starting the year, I was aflame with bright-eyed and maybe naïve optimism. Only to get doused with frigid splashes of harsh realities. I went from gunning for a second degree and 23x-ing as a creative to pulling out of my master’s programme and forfeiting job prospects, amongst other troubles. It was nowhere near ‘to the moon and beyond.’

The travails that beset me were wrenches in the gears of my aspirations for progress. It had me rattled. I felt hedged in, and my existence took on a muted hue. In the second half of the year, I introspected and had an epiphany —that I was trying too hard to control the narrative. Grasping a promise I had lost sight of, I realized there was to be a yielding.

‘For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the LORD, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.’ — Jeremiah 29:11

‭‭Bereft of proper resources, I couldn’t design as much as I wanted. However, I found solace in reading and writing, the latter especially. Sometime in July, in a fell swoop of serendipity, I came into the acquaintance of Victor Fatanmi. Working with him changed my trajectory and lent pace to my motion for the rest of the year.

As my pen glides across the stark white of paper, in this moment, I am content. I’ve been party to impactful work, earned in dollars via writing, and succoured my mother. I survived, and that is enough.

The year was not as cruel as to leave me without connections and bonds. In no particular order, I’m grateful for every one of them.

Felix

A little confession here. I can’t help but think you somewhat aloof, but that is beside the fact. If my discoveries this year were to be a chain, you are the link to which others are tethered. It all started from your tweet about Techpoint Africa’s event, and it’s been strokes of serendipities ever since. Your MO as a creative is resonant of audacity—not the faux, empty kind, but one melded with intention. It is something to which I aspire.

Abigail (Ms. Abby)

My biggest fan and famed sponsor (*winks). It is said that “the best things come when you’re not looking.” You’re the very embodiment of that. You’ve got a modus vivendi that whispers to me of beauty—the immense beauty of little things, the seeming nothings that colours life. From you, I’ve cued in to be mindful and truly live. Thank you for rooting for me always. For the book recommendations. For showing me the light about cats. And for the tweets and Instagram reels that leave me aching with laughter. I’d love to tour C-town and Lagos with you sometime.

Victor (Fá)

You took a chance on me when no one else would, hoisting me to a plane of relevance and newfound confidence. Working alongside you on your book is arguably the highlight of my year that shines brightest. Here’s to devouring leagues with strides of transformational work (*imaginary glass clink).

Simi (Loml)

Some days, we are like mortal enemies. On other days, we get mistaken for twins. You sacrificed a lot—from paying for my tickets whenever I’m cash-strapped to throwing your weight behind me in awkward situations. I don’t take any of these for granted. Despite how messy our bickering can get, I wouldn’t trade a sibling like you for another.

Grace (Momma)

Often, I’m roused from sleep by your calls which are sure to feature prayers uttered from the depths of maternal love and affection. Iya Simi, your earnest supplications weren’t in vain, given how the year panned out. Thank you for being my mainstay and for believing in my non-academic pursuits.

Theola

It’s funny how I can still hear you say, “are you pondering what I’m pondering?” in your characteristic lilt. As kids, you nurtured me with such tenderness and shaped the bulk of who I went on to be. After missing out on over a decade of each other’s lives, then reconnecting, you still do so. Your walk with God inspires me. In some way, it has strengthened my commune with Him. Thank you for giving audience to my rants and for the gift of your words. I really can’t wait to see you.

Favour (Sunflower)

Ma chérie, you’ve held me down over the years. Through the ups, downs, and everything in between. This is the longest we’ve been apart, and it’s been a testing of our bond. Ours is one that runs deep. Anchored in a togetherness time or the miles that lay between us can’t threaten. A soul such as yours is a gift. One I don’t want to give up. Thank you for always giving. All I pray for us both as the years go by is warmth. The kind that never wanes.

Feranmi

With you, I found kinship—being the first motion designer I met upon my return to the +234. Despite not toggling as many keyframes this year as I had intended, we were formidable in our collaborations. Working in tandem with you to convene the first motion design hangout in Ìfẹ is something that fills me with pride till this moment. We should blaze more trails come 2023.

Epilogue

‘Celebrate your survival. Take joy in your journey. Give thanks for your sturdy neck, how it lifts your head to see the sun, everyday’ — Mofiyinfoluwa Okupe

It’s been a year of polarity in its ebb and flow and my growing pains. I didn’t achieve most of the goals I set for the year, but in hindsight, I couldn’t be bothered. I’ve learned to embrace chaos as it comes and to stop beating myself up for things that could have been better. Basking in the knowledge that I am enough, I will live for me, unfurl my sails and ride the wind. Wherever I stand, I know that I am blessed enough.