Uchechukwu, my most annoying and most beloved (except Dede Udoka sha) cousin sent me a post yesterday and commanded me to share it on my blog. Even though he’s barely four months older than me, he likes to bully me. Anyway here’s Uche with his hilarious post, I’ll look for the last picture we took together and put it up too.
For the record, I must confess that nobody send me any message. As we are won’t to do in this part of the world whenever we are not willing to admit our failings- I blame Buhari. I was on my own, jejely, enjoying the recession when the foolish thought of writing came to my mind. Being the bored busy-body that I am and having never learnt to resist my more foolish urges, I quickly grabbed pen and paper. That was Friday morning. This is Monday morning and I have not written anything that WAEC would not see and demand that I return the certificate.
I wasn’t always this clumsy at writing. I used to be pretty darn good. I was even the apple of Mrs.Odaba, my English teacher in senior secondary because of my prowess with pen and paper. She once ‘seized’ my essay script because she felt it was too good it ought to be kept and re-used by more matured minds. You see, dumb as the idea of myself writing might have seen to me, it wasn’t entirely foolish. The thing there was that, aside school work, I had never sat down before to write anything more reasonable that my occasional Akpos jokes for which I get quite a few polite likes and comments on face book.
So here I am, stuck in this bog. My head feels like a blackboard that has been wiped clean. Nothing I have written remotely makes sense my baby Ezeada’s write-ups, nor witty and brilliant as Yvonne Chinyere’s hilarious stories. Even my attempt at word play like Denning does spectacularly back-fired. I am like a Wayne Rooney, desperately craving for some relevance while doing something that I enjoyed doing. Like Rooney wouldn’t retire (and leave my darling Manchester United alone) I too won’t give up. Unlike Rooney, however, I’m absolutely certain I would emerge from this ‘writers’ block’. I have faced worse challenges before.
Back on secondary school, I always felt that the class was my. Being one of the principal noise-maker and the son of the principal to boot, lent credence to my belief. The only thing that could have made my position more secure was to be the best student in the class. Bad-belle Notey refused to give up that honour though. No matter! Everything was rosy …until the politicians struck.
It was the norm for students to elect their prefect. The politicking back then would put this present struggle between PDP and APC to shame with its ingenuity. Someone came up with the idea of drawing campaign posters and suddenly artists were in hot demand. My class had two such persons. One was Abdul Razaq of blessed memory. The other wasn’t yours truly, it was a guy named Barnabas (Surname Forgotten). They got to draw posters and were PAID for it. As if that wasn’t enough, at Christmas, they took to making Xmas cards and people were buying. PEOPLE WERE MAKING MONEY IN MY CLASS AND I WAS NOT A PART OF IT. Boy! I was jealous.
What did I do? I just got home one day and went to get myself a drawing book and started learning how to draw. My initial attempts still gives me nightmare, I try not to think about them at nights. But I plunged on. I sketched and drew until my figures started having near human features. I never got to half the level of Razii and Barnabas but I did improve. In my home where nobody had time for such ‘foolishness’, I was unique. My mum probably thought she had given birth to the next Da Vinci-Sorry to disappoint ma
So while I have not gotten the surge of brain power that results in beautiful and inspirational write ups that would blow readers off their minds, I would continue to serve up my drivel. Any credits that come from them is mine. Any negatives, however, goes to Ezenwa Ezeada (through whose blog I intend to publish), as well as Onyedimmakachukwu Denning Obiukwu and Yvonne Chinyere Anoruo (for writing so lustily that even I am tempted to try). Akpotive Notey gets part of the negative credit as well for never giving up that 1st position all those years.
So, good luck to me. But even more to those who attempt to read anything I write. They sure would need it.
I drop pen.