Sometimes I derail…

Even as I write this, am already derailing. Am supposed to be exhuming my short story project and making it a novel, yet I seem incapable of doing that. In Busting my Nephew, I apologized for writing in late with a thoughtful promise of updating this blog regularly. But it took me longer than I perceived to put up something here after that. To write no be yam o, let alone writing a novel! I really don’t envy Achebe as a person. Not even his fame matters to me. I only envy all the prize monies the old man has garnered for himself all over the years. You see? Am derailing big time here. Why talk about Achebe?

Ok, first one. I seriously think am in the wrong profession. Or as my friends would tell me, in the wrong job. Writing. How can I be getting unrestricted pleasures from the fact that anybody who seemed to have read my write-ups calls me (if they do get to me or have my digits) to tell me they get literary satisfaction with my choice of grammatical leverage and appropriate language usage. That’s all? Nice write-ups but wey the money na?

No money in journalism. I agree. But shouldn’t I ve worked enough to buy myself a car at this stage of my career? Don’t answer, not your question. That’s the question I always ask myself. I have been in the mix for 5yrs now. Again, shouldn’t I’ve listened to friends and gone into banking, at least corporate affairs. They said there were openings but I chose to ignore them for the love of the pen. I love writing. It gives me power of creation. But now, I dey think twice o!

I derailed when I left the sciences for arts. Then I derailed again at the university when I was asked to choose between Mass Comm and English Language. Ok, I went for… see them, they want to know abi? Forget it! Ok, I will tell you. But not now.

However, I think the biggest derailment is going to school. Yes, forget your shock about what I just said. How many rich people are educated? Calculate the ratio na. If I had realized one didn’t need to be educated to be rich, I should’ve dropped out of school at JSS3 when the in-thing was to learn a trade as at then. Am sure, at this age I would’ve been controlling 4 shops and apprentices calling me oga. I th ink the sound of oga sounds appealing. Money wouldn’t have been an object the way it is now for me.

Y’all know I probably wouldn’t know how to read and write well. Right know, I can’t even remember any damn thing I was taught in junior secondary school. But from primary school, I can remember stuff. Never mind, who needs to know how to read and write when you can get the services of graduates and pay them with jokes? Isn’t that what salaries are worth? Jokes! They never seem enough no matter how much.

As I think all these things out and the steps I shouldn’t have taken, my mind flickers with nostalgia to the inevitable. Am about to get married soon, though I don’t have a serious relationship going. But when the time comes to walk the isle, won’t I derail again and marry someone not meant for me? Fear dey catch me o!