Deadlines, Dreams, Dearly Departed & more...

Two truths, our dreams are valid and we'll all die.

Hey Royal, what's good?

This piece is coming to you one day late due to foreseen circumstances. Yes, foreseen.

I will try not to do that again!

For a couple of days, power supply has been the most erratic I've ever experienced since I moved here and it just reminded me of how terrible the light issue was, back at the Purple Room. But that's not the major issue as I also had a work event that had been in the works since November to cater to.

But the good news is that, the event is done and dusted, and despite the challenges, I love how it challenged me too.

Another reason why this is coming late is because I wanted to share a different story (that is ready) about the work I did for money in the Purple Room but a few days ago, I decided against it and now you'd have to be on the lookout for it because I'd still share it.

Snippet of that future post.

Can you guess what work that was? Please don't say stripper.

Deadlines

One day at the Purple Room, I had just accepted a writing gig of eight thousand words to be delivered in twenty-four hours and as I was getting off the phone, our transformer exploded.

I mean, my village people got on a bus from Ogun state and found their way to my street in Agbowo, Oyo state, aiye mi, temi ba mi!*

Calling back to return the job was not an option because I had finished spending the money that I had not been paid. You know what I mean?

So, I hurried off to a friend's place where a little above 24 hours later after switching between sitting, standing, and lying positions and gulping several bottles of Five Alive Pulpy to keep my sugar up and eyes open, I submitted the job.

When the alert came in and I confirmed that the money was indeed there, I headed back to the Purple Room and cried my eyes out.

I was just a girl who made a living from writing and I was going through so much to deliver my work because of electricity

The tears made no sense but I was stressed and that was the only way I could let it out.

Dearly Departed… 🕊️

Back in the Purple Room, one of my friends, Pilot, and I had developed a routine of talking late at night. We'd sing Maverick City songs together, talk about our dreams and goals, and just thank God for every thing. And, I was always fascinated by the kind of dreams he had.

One Saturday night, I had to race over to my friend, Lu's place because I was in another "no electricity" situation and I had a deadline to meet. The next morning as I was preparing to return to the Purple Room, I learned that Pilot's dad had passed. I was numb.

The suddenness of death and the inevitability plus finality of it had questions racing through my head.

I asked myself:

• What would I do if this was me?

• What does one do in times like this?

• What would this mean for the family? And so on and so on.

Permit me to digress a little, in 2018, my mum stopped breathing for close to six hours after suffering a stroke.

In those hours, everybody went crazy in prayers and I even watched my grandfather have a fight with God over the promises of life he'd been promised.

It was scary to watch the doctors trying to revive her for hours and when she eventually had a pulse and heartbeat again, I knew I'd never wish those moments on an enemy.

So, when I heard of his dad's passing, I felt it deeply and even forgot about the frustration I had just suffered due to electricity.

Dreams

Fast forward to a few weeks ago and Pilot shared some good news with me about one of his dreams. As we got on a call later, he mentioned his dad and I could only imagine him being here to see his son's dreams come to pass and celebrate this moment with him.

He mentioned that some people he had shared the dream with long ago must have forgotten about it and dismissed it as wishful thinking and he was right.

But in that moment, I learned again that our dreams are valid, if we don't give up on them.

Photo of me working from home in 2024 - a dream fulfilled.

Nigeria and Nigerian Civil Servants will frustrate you.

To celebrate the good news which was once just a dream we had talked about inside the Purple Room, I planned to meet up with my friend for a quick celebration during the week but Nigeria and her civil servants said no.

Tell me how I ended up spending over eight hours at a government agency for something that eventually took barely fifteen minutes? How?

My take is, if you have something important to do, don't have an appointment at a Nigerian government agency, they will waste your time.

If you don't believe me, check out the crazy experiences that my friend, Oriade, shared here and let me know what you think.

Everybody has Japa'd

With the way everything is going in this country, I might wake up one day and be all alone in this country and you can't blame them when the country continues to fail us.

A lot of people that I know are now only available via WhatsApp because they've left the country and you probably can relate with this.

As the immigration trend continues, keeping up with folks is a real struggle, especially if you're like me and you don't like to come off as bothering.

But if we don't reach out to one another, we'd be losing meaningful relationships based on assumptions.

So, I challenge you to reach out to someone you've not heard from in a while, whether home or abroad and let them know you still care about them. Sometimes, all we need is a conversation.

Till the next chronicle,

Stay Royal!

*a yoruba exclamation with multi-usability

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