Before I begin making a recap on how my year has been, I have to shout out to my hippocampus for dutifully retaining memories. When I started the year, I told myself I wasn’t going to give it a theme, which is very unlike me. I wasn’t going to do ‘my year of this’ or ‘my year of that.’ I was just going to let the year unfold and theme it afterward. The most important thing was to live an intentional life. I was doing that until ASUU went on strike. If the touchpad of your phone ever went bad, you can attest to how infuriating it is to not have control over your keyboard. My five-year plan was being trampled upon by the education system, I had no control and all I was optioned to do was wait.
In February, a few days after the warning strike, I received a mail concerning a writing contest I had applied for. I had won. I took pride not in the recognition or financial reward attached to the contest but in the confidence that my work was found worthy. Later during the month, I began working on a personal project: a book. Everyone who knew about it didn’t see it as a good way to spend the unwanted break from school. My mates were either working or learning a skill. If I decide to do the former, I would raise double my school fees or triple them, depending on how long the strike lasts. Amidst my indecision, a family friend presented a job opportunity, a very succulent one. I was tempted.
Before I continue making a recap on how my year has been, I have to shout out to my hippocampus again, this time for recalling promises I made to myself. It is my goal to live an intentional life and nothing will be as fulfilling as doing what I truly want to do. I continued working on my novel and a few months later, I had my first draft. My joy was boundless. In all twenty two years of my existence, I had not felt that proud of myself. It meant a lot that I finally wrote an epilogue despite how many unfinished works I had on my laptop. I had defeated procrastination, impostor syndrome, and writer’s block. I took a month’s break to let the joy of the milestone sink in.
In August, I started working on my second draft. The more I wrote, the more I realised that my first draft was only ten percent as good as the second. It excited me that I got better with each draft. The excitement was short-lived as something depressing happened.
I lent my laptop to a relative who wanted to practice what he had learned in coding. Unknowingly, he introduced corrupted files into the laptop which caused it to malfunction and then go blank. Days after days, I kept rebooting the laptop, praying and hoping that my wallpaper relieves me of all the worst-case scenarios I was thinking of. Every effort proved futile as the blank screen still mocked me. Some weekends later, I took it to Computer Village. I didn’t mind what kind of surgery the repairer would perform or how much it would cost, I wanted my files intact. Every hour I spent waiting felt like a day, and a week later the repairer walked through the door and shattered my fragile heart. My laptop was diagnosed with hard disk problems and I had no option but to wipe its memory. I was sad, and it was not the type of sad I was when ASUU trampled on my five-year plan. This was worse. I had the laptop repaired and went back home soaked in tears.
My first draft was recovered, I had earlier sent a copy to my best friend. As for the second draft, a blank screen still mocks me, not one indicating a faulty gadget but one sponsored by my lack of courage to input anything into a blank page. How do I start all over? Where do I start?
Now, I no longer beat myself up with ‘had I known, I would have backed up my files.’ I have picked lessons from my experience and I shall go again in 2023. Today, I celebrate myself for picking up my laptop to write again.
Like a merry-go-round ride, this year has been filled with phases that were both a new beginning and an end. It all depended on my perspective of it. By this time next year, I hope I write positive summaries on my writing journey and all-round experiences.
2022 had its ups and downs but las las, I run am.
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